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Title: The History of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
Volume 2
Author: Edward Gibbon
Commentator: H. H. Milman
Release Date: November, 1996 [EBook #732]
[Most recently updated: November 21, 2020]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE ***
Produced by David Reed and David Widger
HISTORY OF THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE
Edward Gibbon, Esq.
With notes by the Rev. H. H. Milman
Vol. 2
1782 (Written), 1845 (Revised)
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part I.
The Conduct Of The Roman Government Towards The Christians,
From The Reign Of Nero To That Of Constantine.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part II.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part III.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part IV.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part V.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part VI.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part VII.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians,
From Nero To Constantine.—Part VIII.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
I.
Foundation Of Constantinople.—Political System Constantine,
And His Successors.—Military Discipline.—The Palace.—The
Finances.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
II.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
III.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
IV.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
V.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part
VI.
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And
His Sons.—Part I.
Character Of Constantine.—Gothic War.—Death Of
Constantine.—Division Of The Empire Among His Three Sons.—
Persian War.—Tragic Deaths Of Constantine The Younger And
Constans.—Usurpation Of Magnentius.—Civil War.—Victory Of
Constantius.
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And
His Sons.—Part II.
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And
His Sons.—Part III.
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And
His Sons.—Part IV.
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part
I.
Constantius Sole Emperor.—Elevation And Death Of Gallus.—
Danger And Elevation Of Julian.—Sarmatian And Persian
Wars.—Victories Of Julian In Gaul.
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part
II.
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part
III.
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part
IV.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part
I.
The Motives, Progress, And Effects Of The Conversion Of
Constantine.—Legal Establishment And Constitution Of The
Christian Or Catholic Church.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part
II.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part
III.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part
IV.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part I.
Persecution Of Heresy.—The Schism Of The Donatists.—The
Arian Controversy.—Athanasius.—Distracted State Of The
Church And Empire Under Constantine And His Sons.—
Toleration Of Paganism.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part II.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part III.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part IV.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part V.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part VI.
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of
The Church.—Part VII.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part
I.
Julian Is Declared Emperor By The Legions Of Gaul.—His
March And Success.—The Death Of Constantius.—Civil
Administration Of Julian.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part
II.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part
III.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part
IV.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part I.
The Religion Of Julian.—Universal Toleration.—He Attempts
To Restore And Reform The Pagan Worship—To Rebuild The
Temple Of Jerusalem—His Artful Persecution Of The
Christians.—Mutual Zeal And Injustice.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part
II.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part
III.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part
IV.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part V.
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of
Julian.—Part I.
Residence Of Julian At Antioch.—His Successful Expedition
Against The Persians.—Passage Of The Tigris—The Retreat
And Death Of Julian.—Election Of Jovian.—He Saves The
Roman Army By A Disgraceful Treaty.
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of
Julian.—Part II.
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of
Julian.—Part III.
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of
Julian.—Part IV.
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of
Julian.—Part V.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part I.
The Government And Death Of Jovian.—Election Of
Valentinian, Who Associates His Brother Valens, And Makes
The Final Division Of The Eastern And Western Empires.—
Revolt Of Procopius.—Civil And Ecclesiastical
Administration.—Germany.—Britain.—Africa.—The East.—
The Danube.—Death Of Valentinian.—His Two Sons, Gratian
And Valentinian II., Succeed To The Western Empire.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part II.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part III.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part IV.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part V.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part VI.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And
Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part VII.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part
I.
Manners Of The Pastoral Nations.—Progress Of The Huns, From
China To Europe.—Flight Of The Goths.—They Pass The
Danube.—Gothic War.—Defeat And Death Of Valens.—Gratian
Invests Theodosius With The Eastern Empire.—His Character
And Success.—Peace And Settlement Of The Goths.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part
II.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part
III.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part
IV.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part
V.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
I.
The Conduct Of The Roman Government Towards The Christians,
From The Reign Of Nero To That Of Constantine. 1111
If we seriously consider the purity of the Christian religion, the
sanctity of its moral precepts, and the innocent as well as austere lives
of the greater number of those who during the first ages embraced the
faith of the gospel, we should naturally suppose, that so benevolent a
doctrine would have been received with due reverence, even by the
unbelieving world; that the learned and the polite, however they may
deride the miracles, would have esteemed the virtues, of the new sect; and
that the magistrates, instead of persecuting, would have protected an
order of men who yielded the most passive obedience to the laws, though
they declined the active cares of war and government. If, on the other
hand, we recollect the universal toleration of Polytheism, as it was
invariably maintained by the faith of the people, the incredulity of
philosophers, and the policy of the Roman senate and emperors, we are at a
loss to discover what new offence the Christians had committed, what new
provocation could exasperate the mild indifference of antiquity, and what
new motives could urge the Roman princes, who beheld without concern a
thousand forms of religion subsisting in peace under their gentle sway, to
inflict a severe punishment on any part of their subjects, who had chosen
for themselves a singular but an inoffensive mode of faith and worship.
The religious policy of the ancient world seems to have assumed a more
stern and intolerant character, to oppose the progress of Christianity.
About fourscore years after the death of Christ, his innocent disciples
were punished with death by the sentence of a proconsul of the most
amiable and philosophic character, and according to the laws of an emperor
distinguished by the wisdom and justice of his general administration. The
apologies which were repeatedly addressed to the successors of Trajan are
filled with the most pathetic complaints, that the Christians, who obeyed
the dictates, and solicited the liberty, of conscience, were alone, among
all the subjects of the Roman empire, excluded from the common benefits of
their auspicious government. The deaths of a few eminent martyrs have been
recorded with care; and from the time that Christianity was invested with
the supreme power, the governors of the church have been no less
diligently employed in displaying the cruelty, than in imitating the
conduct, of their Pagan adversaries. To separate (if it be possible) a few
authentic as well as interesting facts from an undigested mass of fiction
and error, and to relate, in a clear and rational manner, the causes, the
extent, the duration, and the most important circumstances of the
persecutions to which the first Christians were exposed, is the design of
the present chapter. 1222
The sectaries of a persecuted religion, depressed by fear animated with
resentment, and perhaps heated by enthusiasm, are seldom in a proper
temper of mind calmly to investigate, or candidly to appreciate, the
motives of their enemies, which often escape the impartial and discerning
view even of those who are placed at a secure distance from the flames of
persecution. A reason has been assigned for the conduct of the emperors
towards the primitive Christians, which may appear the more specious and
probable as it is drawn from the acknowledged genius of Polytheism. It has
already been observed, that the religious concord of the world was
principally supported by the implicit assent and reverence which the
nations of antiquity expressed for their respective traditions and
ceremonies. It might therefore be expected, that they would unite with
indignation against any sect or people which should separate itself from
the communion of mankind, and claiming the exclusive possession of divine
knowledge, should disdain every form of worship, except its own, as
impious and idolatrous. The rights of toleration were held by mutual
indulgence: they were justly forfeited by a refusal of the accustomed
tribute. As the payment of this tribute was inflexibly refused by the
Jews, and by them alone, the consideration of the treatment which they
experienced from the Roman magistrates, will serve to explain how far
these speculations are justified by facts, and will lead us to discover
the true causes of the persecution of Christianity.
Without repeating what has already been mentioned of the reverence of the
Roman princes and governors for the temple of Jerusalem, we shall only
observe, that the destruction of the temple and city was accompanied and
followed by every circumstance that could exasperate the minds of the
conquerors, and authorize religious persecution by the most specious
arguments of political justice and the public safety. From the reign of
Nero to that of Antoninus Pius, the Jews discovered a fierce impatience of
the dominion of Rome, which repeatedly broke out in the most furious
massacres and insurrections. Humanity is shocked at the recital of the
horrid cruelties which they committed in the cities of Egypt, of Cyprus,
and of Cyrene, where they dwelt in treacherous friendship with the
unsuspecting natives; 1 and we are tempted to applaud the severe
retaliation which was exercised by the arms of the legions against a race
of fanatics, whose dire and credulous superstition seemed to render them
the implacable enemies not only of the Roman government, but of human
kind. 2
The enthusiasm of the Jews was supported by the opinion, that it was
unlawful for them to pay taxes to an idolatrous master; and by the
flattering promise which they derived from their ancient oracles, that a
conquering Messiah would soon arise, destined to break their fetters, and
to invest the favorites of heaven with the empire of the earth. It was by
announcing himself as their long-expected deliverer, and by calling on all
the descendants of Abraham to assert the hope of Israel, that the famous
Barchochebas collected a formidable army, with which he resisted during
two years the power of the emperor Hadrian. 3
Notwithstanding these repeated provocations, the resentment of the Roman
princes expired after the victory; nor were their apprehensions continued
beyond the period of war and danger. By the general indulgence of
polytheism, and by the mild temper of Antoninus Pius, the Jews were
restored to their ancient privileges, and once more obtained the
permission of circumcising their children, with the easy restraint, that
they should never confer on any foreign proselyte that distinguishing mark
of the Hebrew race. 4 The numerous remains of that people, though they
were still excluded from the precincts of Jerusalem, were permitted to
form and to maintain considerable establishments both in Italy and in the
provinces, to acquire the freedom of Rome, to enjoy municipal honors, and
to obtain at the same time an exemption from the burdensome and expensive
offices of society. The moderation or the contempt of the Romans gave a
legal sanction to the form of ecclesiastical police which was instituted
by the vanquished sect. The patriarch, who had fixed his residence at
Tiberias, was empowered to appoint his subordinate ministers and apostles,
to exercise a domestic jurisdiction, and to receive from his dispersed
brethren an annual contribution. 5 New synagogues were frequently erected in the
principal cities of the empire; and the sabbaths, the fasts, and the
festivals, which were either commanded by the Mosaic law, or enjoined by
the traditions of the Rabbis, were celebrated in the most solemn and
public manner. 6 Such gentle treatment insensibly assuaged the
stern temper of the Jews. Awakened from their dream of prophecy and
conquest, they assumed the behavior of peaceable and industrious subjects.
Their irreconcilable hatred of mankind, instead of flaming out in acts of
blood and violence, evaporated in less dangerous gratifications. They
embraced every opportunity of overreaching the idolaters in trade; and
they pronounced secret and ambiguous imprecations against the haughty
kingdom of Edom. 7
Since the Jews, who rejected with abhorrence the deities adored by their
sovereign and by their fellow-subjects, enjoyed, however, the free
exercise of their unsocial religion, there must have existed some other
cause, which exposed the disciples of Christ to those severities from
which the posterity of Abraham was exempt. The difference between them is
simple and obvious; but, according to the sentiments of antiquity, it was
of the highest importance. The Jews were a nation; the Christians were a
sect: and if it was natural for every community to respect the sacred
institutions of their neighbors, it was incumbent on them to persevere in
those of their ancestors. The voice of oracles, the precepts of
philosophers, and the authority of the laws, unanimously enforced this
national obligation. By their lofty claim of superior sanctity the Jews
might provoke the Polytheists to consider them as an odious and impure
race. By disdaining the intercourse of other nations, they might deserve
their contempt. The laws of Moses might be for the most part frivolous or
absurd; yet, since they had been received during many ages by a large
society, his followers were justified by the example of mankind; and it
was universally acknowledged, that they had a right to practise what it
would have been criminal in them to neglect. But this principle, which
protected the Jewish synagogue, afforded not any favor or security to the
primitive church. By embracing the faith of the gospel, the Christians
incurred the supposed guilt of an unnatural and unpardonable offence. They
dissolved the sacred ties of custom and education, violated the religious
institutions of their country, and presumptuously despised whatever their
fathers had believed as true, or had reverenced as sacred. Nor was this
apostasy (if we may use the expression) merely of a partial or local kind;
since the pious deserter who withdrew himself from the temples of Egypt or
Syria, would equally disdain to seek an asylum in those of Athens or
Carthage. Every Christian rejected with contempt the superstitions of his
family, his city, and his province. The whole body of Christians
unanimously refused to hold any communion with the gods of Rome, of the
empire, and of mankind. It was in vain that the oppressed believer
asserted the inalienable rights of conscience and private judgment. Though
his situation might excite the pity, his arguments could never reach the
understanding, either of the philosophic or of the believing part of the
Pagan world. To their apprehensions, it was no less a matter of surprise,
that any individuals should entertain scruples against complying with the
established mode of worship, than if they had conceived a sudden
abhorrence to the manners, the dress, 8111 or the language of
their native country. 8
The surprise of the Pagans was soon succeeded by resentment; and the most
pious of men were exposed to the unjust but dangerous imputation of
impiety. Malice and prejudice concurred in representing the Christians as
a society of atheists, who, by the most daring attack on the religious
constitution of the empire, had merited the severest animadversion of the
civil magistrate. They had separated themselves (they gloried in the
confession) from every mode of superstition which was received in any part
of the globe by the various temper of polytheism: but it was not
altogether so evident what deity, or what form of worship, they had
substituted to the gods and temples of antiquity. The pure and sublime
idea which they entertained of the Supreme Being escaped the gross
conception of the Pagan multitude, who were at a loss to discover a
spiritual and solitary God, that was neither represented under any
corporeal figure or visible symbol, nor was adored with the accustomed
pomp of libations and festivals, of altars and sacrifices. 9 The sages
of Greece and Rome, who had elevated their minds to the contemplation of
the existence and attributes of the First Cause, were induced by reason or
by vanity to reserve for themselves and their chosen disciples the
privilege of this philosophical devotion. 10 They were far from
admitting the prejudices of mankind as the standard of truth, but they
considered them as flowing from the original disposition of human nature;
and they supposed that any popular mode of faith and worship which
presumed to disclaim the assistance of the senses, would, in proportion as
it receded from superstition, find itself incapable of restraining the
wanderings of the fancy, and the visions of fanaticism. The careless
glance which men of wit and learning condescended to cast on the Christian
revelation, served only to confirm their hasty opinion, and to persuade
them that the principle, which they might have revered, of the Divine
Unity, was defaced by the wild enthusiasm, and annihilated by the airy
speculations, of the new sectaries. The author of a celebrated dialogue,
which has been attributed to Lucian, whilst he affects to treat the
mysterious subject of the Trinity in a style of ridicule and contempt,
betrays his own ignorance of the weakness of human reason, and of the
inscrutable nature of the divine perfections. 11
It might appear less surprising, that the founder of Christianity should
not only be revered by his disciples as a sage and a prophet, but that he
should be adored as a God. The Polytheists were disposed to adopt every
article of faith, which seemed to offer any resemblance, however distant
or imperfect, with the popular mythology; and the legends of Bacchus, of
Hercules, and of Æsculapius, had, in some measure, prepared their
imagination for the appearance of the Son of God under a human form. 12 But
they were astonished that the Christians should abandon the temples of
those ancient heroes, who, in the infancy of the world, had invented arts,
instituted laws, and vanquished the tyrants or monsters who infested the
earth, in order to choose for the exclusive object of their religious
worship an obscure teacher, who, in a recent age, and among a barbarous
people, had fallen a sacrifice either to the malice of his own countrymen,
or to the jealousy of the Roman government. The Pagan multitude, reserving
their gratitude for temporal benefits alone, rejected the inestimable
present of life and immortality, which was offered to mankind by Jesus of
Nazareth. His mild constancy in the midst of cruel and voluntary
sufferings, his universal benevolence, and the sublime simplicity of his
actions and character, were insufficient, in the opinion of those carnal
men, to compensate for the want of fame, of empire, and of success; and
whilst they refused to acknowledge his stupendous triumph over the powers
of darkness and of the grave, they misrepresented, or they insulted, the
equivocal birth, wandering life, and ignominious death, of the divine
Author of Christianity. 13
The personal guilt which every Christian had contracted, in thus
preferring his private sentiment to the national religion, was aggravated
in a very high degree by the number and union of the criminals. It is well
known, and has been already observed, that Roman policy viewed with the
utmost jealousy and distrust any association among its subjects; and that
the privileges of private corporations, though formed for the most
harmless or beneficial purposes, were bestowed with a very sparing hand.
14
The religious assemblies of the Christians who had separated themselves
from the public worship, appeared of a much less innocent nature; they
were illegal in their principle, and in their consequences might become
dangerous; nor were the emperors conscious that they violated the laws of
justice, when, for the peace of society, they prohibited those secret and
sometimes nocturnal meetings. 15 The pious disobedience of the Christians made
their conduct, or perhaps their designs, appear in a much more serious and
criminal light; and the Roman princes, who might perhaps have suffered
themselves to be disarmed by a ready submission, deeming their honor
concerned in the execution of their commands, sometimes attempted, by
rigorous punishments, to subdue this independent spirit, which boldly
acknowledged an authority superior to that of the magistrate. The extent
and duration of this spiritual conspiracy seemed to render it everyday
more deserving of his animadversion. We have already seen that the active
and successful zeal of the Christians had insensibly diffused them through
every province and almost every city of the empire. The new converts
seemed to renounce their family and country, that they might connect
themselves in an indissoluble band of union with a peculiar society, which
every where assumed a different character from the rest of mankind. Their
gloomy and austere aspect, their abhorrence of the common business and
pleasures of life, and their frequent predictions of impending calamities,
16
inspired the Pagans with the apprehension of some danger, which would
arise from the new sect, the more alarming as it was the more obscure.
“Whatever,” says Pliny, “may be the principle of their conduct, their
inflexible obstinacy appeared deserving of punishment.” 17
The precautions with which the disciples of Christ performed the offices
of religion were at first dictated by fear and necessity; but they were
continued from choice. By imitating the awful secrecy which reigned in the
Eleusinian mysteries, the Christians had flattered themselves that they
should render their sacred institutions more respectable in the eyes of
the Pagan world. 18 But the event, as it often happens to the
operations of subtile policy, deceived their wishes and their
expectations. It was concluded, that they only concealed what they would
have blushed to disclose. Their mistaken prudence afforded an opportunity
for malice to invent, and for suspicious credulity to believe, the horrid
tales which described the Christians as the most wicked of human kind, who
practised in their dark recesses every abomination that a depraved fancy
could suggest, and who solicited the favor of their unknown God by the
sacrifice of every moral virtue. There were many who pretended to confess
or to relate the ceremonies of this abhorred society. It was asserted,
“that a new-born infant, entirely covered over with flour, was presented,
like some mystic symbol of initiation, to the knife of the proselyte, who
unknowingly inflicted many a secret and mortal wound on the innocent
victim of his error; that as soon as the cruel deed was perpetrated, the
sectaries drank up the blood, greedily tore asunder the quivering members,
and pledged themselves to eternal secrecy, by a mutual consciousness of
guilt. It was as confidently affirmed, that this inhuman sacrifice was
succeeded by a suitable entertainment, in which intemperance served as a
provocative to brutal lust; till, at the appointed moment, the lights were
suddenly extinguished, shame was banished, nature was forgotten; and, as
accident might direct, the darkness of the night was polluted by the
incestuous commerce of sisters and brothers, of sons and of mothers.” 19
But the perusal of the ancient apologies was sufficient to remove even the
slightest suspicion from the mind of a candid adversary. The Christians,
with the intrepid security of innocence, appeal from the voice of rumor to
the equity of the magistrates. They acknowledge, that if any proof can be
produced of the crimes which calumny has imputed to them, they are worthy
of the most severe punishment. They provoke the punishment, and they
challenge the proof. At the same time they urge, with equal truth and
propriety, that the charge is not less devoid of probability, than it is
destitute of evidence; they ask, whether any one can seriously believe
that the pure and holy precepts of the gospel, which so frequently
restrain the use of the most lawful enjoyments, should inculcate the
practice of the most abominable crimes; that a large society should
resolve to dishonor itself in the eyes of its own members; and that a
great number of persons of either sex, and every age and character,
insensible to the fear of death or infamy, should consent to violate those
principles which nature and education had imprinted most deeply in their
minds. 20
Nothing, it should seem, could weaken the force or destroy the effect of
so unanswerable a justification, unless it were the injudicious conduct of
the apologists themselves, who betrayed the common cause of religion, to
gratify their devout hatred to the domestic enemies of the church. It was
sometimes faintly insinuated, and sometimes boldly asserted, that the same
bloody sacrifices, and the same incestuous festivals, which were so
falsely ascribed to the orthodox believers, were in reality celebrated by
the Marcionites, by the Carpocratians, and by several other sects of the
Gnostics, who, notwithstanding they might deviate into the paths of
heresy, were still actuated by the sentiments of men, and still governed
by the precepts of Christianity. 21 Accusations of a similar
kind were retorted upon the church by the schismatics who had departed
from its communion, 22 and it was confessed on all sides, that the
most scandalous licentiousness of manners prevailed among great numbers of
those who affected the name of Christians. A Pagan magistrate, who
possessed neither leisure nor abilities to discern the almost
imperceptible line which divides the orthodox faith from heretical
pravity, might easily have imagined that their mutual animosity had
extorted the discovery of their common guilt. It was fortunate for the
repose, or at least for the reputation, of the first Christians, that the
magistrates sometimes proceeded with more temper and moderation than is
usually consistent with religious zeal, and that they reported, as the
impartial result of their judicial inquiry, that the sectaries, who had
deserted the established worship, appeared to them sincere in their
professions, and blameless in their manners; however they might incur, by
their absurd and excessive superstition, the censure of the laws. 23
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
II.
History, which undertakes to record the transactions of the past, for the
instruction of future ages, would ill deserve that honorable office, if
she condescended to plead the cause of tyrants, or to justify the maxims
of persecution. It must, however, be acknowledged, that the conduct of the
emperors who appeared the least favorable to the primitive church, is by
no means so criminal as that of modern sovereigns, who have employed the
arm of violence and terror against the religious opinions of any part of
their subjects. From their reflections, or even from their own feelings, a
Charles V. or a Lewis XIV. might have acquired a just knowledge of the
rights of conscience, of the obligation of faith, and of the innocence of
error. But the princes and magistrates of ancient Rome were strangers to
those principles which inspired and authorized the inflexible obstinacy of
the Christians in the cause of truth, nor could they themselves discover
in their own breasts any motive which would have prompted them to refuse a
legal, and as it were a natural, submission to the sacred institutions of
their country. The same reason which contributes to alleviate the guilt,
must have tended to abate the vigor, of their persecutions. As they were
actuated, not by the furious zeal of bigots, but by the temperate policy
of legislators, contempt must often have relaxed, and humanity must
frequently have suspended, the execution of those laws which they enacted
against the humble and obscure followers of Christ. From the general view
of their character and motives we might naturally conclude: I. That a
considerable time elapsed before they considered the new sectaries as an
object deserving of the attention of government. II. That in the
conviction of any of their subjects who were accused of so very singular a
crime, they proceeded with caution and reluctance. III. That they were
moderate in the use of punishments; and, IV. That the afflicted church
enjoyed many intervals of peace and tranquility. Notwithstanding the
careless indifference which the most copious and the most minute of the
Pagan writers have shown to the affairs of the Christians, 24 it
may still be in our power to confirm each of these probable suppositions,
by the evidence of authentic facts.
1. By the wise dispensation of Providence, a mysterious veil was cast over
the infancy of the church, which, till the faith of the Christians was
matured, and their numbers were multiplied, served to protect them not
only from the malice but even from the knowledge of the Pagan world. The
slow and gradual abolition of the Mosaic ceremonies afforded a safe and
innocent disguise to the more early proselytes of the gospel. As they
were, for the greater part, of the race of Abraham, they were
distinguished by the peculiar mark of circumcision, offered up their
devotions in the Temple of Jerusalem till its final destruction, and
received both the Law and the Prophets as the genuine inspirations of the
Deity. The Gentile converts, who by a spiritual adoption had been
associated to the hope of Israel, were likewise confounded under the garb
and appearance of Jews, 25 and as the Polytheists paid less regard to
articles of faith than to the external worship, the new sect, which
carefully concealed, or faintly announced, its future greatness and
ambition, was permitted to shelter itself under the general toleration
which was granted to an ancient and celebrated people in the Roman empire.
It was not long, perhaps, before the Jews themselves, animated with a
fiercer zeal and a more jealous faith, perceived the gradual separation of
their Nazarene brethren from the doctrine of the synagogue; and they would
gladly have extinguished the dangerous heresy in the blood of its
adherents. But the decrees of Heaven had already disarmed their malice;
and though they might sometimes exert the licentious privilege of
sedition, they no longer possessed the administration of criminal justice;
nor did they find it easy to infuse into the calm breast of a Roman
magistrate the rancor of their own zeal and prejudice. The provincial
governors declared themselves ready to listen to any accusation that might
affect the public safety; but as soon as they were informed that it was a
question not of facts but of words, a dispute relating only to the
interpretation of the Jewish laws and prophecies, they deemed it unworthy
of the majesty of Rome seriously to discuss the obscure differences which
might arise among a barbarous and superstitious people. The innocence of
the first Christians was protected by ignorance and contempt; and the
tribunal of the Pagan magistrate often proved their most assured refuge
against the fury of the synagogue. 26 If indeed we were
disposed to adopt the traditions of a too credulous antiquity, we might
relate the distant peregrinations, the wonderful achievements, and the
various deaths of the twelve apostles: but a more accurate inquiry will
induce us to doubt, whether any of those persons who had been witnesses to
the miracles of Christ were permitted, beyond the limits of Palestine, to
seal with their blood the truth of their testimony. 27 From the ordinary term of
human life, it may very naturally be presumed that most of them were
deceased before the discontent of the Jews broke out into that furious
war, which was terminated only by the ruin of Jerusalem. During a long
period, from the death of Christ to that memorable rebellion, we cannot
discover any traces of Roman intolerance, unless they are to be found in
the sudden, the transient, but the cruel persecution, which was exercised
by Nero against the Christians of the capital, thirty-five years after the
former, and only two years before the latter, of those great events. The
character of the philosophic historian, to whom we are principally
indebted for the knowledge of this singular transaction, would alone be
sufficient to recommend it to our most attentive consideration.
In the tenth year of the reign of Nero, the capital of the empire was
afflicted by a fire which raged beyond the memory or example of former
ages. 28
The monuments of Grecian art and of Roman virtue, the trophies of the
Punic and Gallic wars, the most holy temples, and the most splendid
palaces, were involved in one common destruction. Of the fourteen regions
or quarters into which Rome was divided, four only subsisted entire, three
were levelled with the ground, and the remaining seven, which had
experienced the fury of the flames, displayed a melancholy prospect of
ruin and desolation. The vigilance of government appears not to have
neglected any of the precautions which might alleviate the sense of so
dreadful a calamity. The Imperial gardens were thrown open to the
distressed multitude, temporary buildings were erected for their
accommodation, and a plentiful supply of corn and provisions was
distributed at a very moderate price. 29 The most generous policy
seemed to have dictated the edicts which regulated the disposition of the
streets and the construction of private houses; and as it usually happens,
in an age of prosperity, the conflagration of Rome, in the course of a few
years, produced a new city, more regular and more beautiful than the
former. But all the prudence and humanity affected by Nero on this
occasion were insufficient to preserve him from the popular suspicion.
Every crime might be imputed to the assassin of his wife and mother; nor
could the prince who prostituted his person and dignity on the theatre be
deemed incapable of the most extravagant folly. The voice of rumor accused
the emperor as the incendiary of his own capital; and as the most
incredible stories are the best adapted to the genius of an enraged
people, it was gravely reported, and firmly believed, that Nero, enjoying
the calamity which he had occasioned, amused himself with singing to his
lyre the destruction of ancient Troy. 30 To divert a suspicion,
which the power of despotism was unable to suppress, the emperor resolved
to substitute in his own place some fictitious criminals. “With this
view,” continues Tacitus, “he inflicted the most exquisite tortures on
those men, who, under the vulgar appellation of Christians, were already
branded with deserved infamy. They derived their name and origin from
Christ, who in the reign of Tiberius had suffered death by the sentence of
the procurator Pontius Pilate. 31 For a while this dire superstition was checked;
but it again burst forth; 3111 and not only spread itself over Judæa, the
first seat of this mischievous sect, but was even introduced into Rome,
the common asylum which receives and protects whatever is impure, whatever
is atrocious. The confessions of those who were seized discovered a great
multitude of their accomplices, and they were all convicted, not so much
for the crime of setting fire to the city, as for their hatred of human
kind. 32
They died in torments, and their torments were imbittered by insult and
derision. Some were nailed on crosses; others sewn up in the skins of wild
beasts, and exposed to the fury of dogs; others again, smeared over with
combustible materials, were used as torches to illuminate the darkness of
the night. The gardens of Nero were destined for the melancholy spectacle,
which was accompanied with a horse-race and honored with the presence of
the emperor, who mingled with the populace in the dress and attitude of a
charioteer. The guilt of the Christians deserved indeed the most exemplary
punishment, but the public abhorrence was changed into commiseration, from
the opinion that those unhappy wretches were sacrificed, not so much to
the public welfare, as to the cruelty of a jealous tyrant.” 33 Those
who survey with a curious eye the revolutions of mankind, may observe,
that the gardens and circus of Nero on the Vatican, which were polluted
with the blood of the first Christians, have been rendered still more
famous by the triumph and by the abuse of the persecuted religion. On the
same spot, 34
a temple, which far surpasses the ancient glories of the Capitol, has been
since erected by the Christian Pontiffs, who, deriving their claim of
universal dominion from an humble fisherman of Galilee, have succeeded to
the throne of the Cæsars, given laws to the barbarian conquerors of Rome,
and extended their spiritual jurisdiction from the coast of the Baltic to
the shores of the Pacific Ocean.
But it would be improper to dismiss this account of Nero’s persecution,
till we have made some observations that may serve to remove the
difficulties with which it is perplexed, and to throw some light on the
subsequent history of the church.
1. The most sceptical criticism is obliged to respect the truth of this
extraordinary fact, and the integrity of this celebrated passage of
Tacitus. The former is confirmed by the diligent and accurate Suetonius,
who mentions the punishment which Nero inflicted on the Christians, a sect
of men who had embraced a new and criminal superstition. 35 The
latter may be proved by the consent of the most ancient manuscripts; by
the inimitable character of the style of Tacitus by his reputation, which
guarded his text from the interpolations of pious fraud; and by the
purport of his narration, which accused the first Christians of the most
atrocious crimes, without insinuating that they possessed any miraculous
or even magical powers above the rest of mankind. 36 2. Notwithstanding it is
probable that Tacitus was born some years before the fire of Rome, 37 he
could derive only from reading and conversation the knowledge of an event
which happened during his infancy. Before he gave himself to the public,
he calmly waited till his genius had attained its full maturity, and he
was more than forty years of age, when a grateful regard for the memory of
the virtuous Agricola extorted from him the most early of those historical
compositions which will delight and instruct the most distant posterity.
After making a trial of his strength in the life of Agricola and the
description of Germany, he conceived, and at length executed, a more
arduous work; the history of Rome, in thirty books, from the fall of Nero
to the accession of Nerva. The administration of Nerva introduced an age
of justice and propriety, which Tacitus had destined for the occupation of
his old age; 38 but when he took a nearer view of his subject,
judging, perhaps, that it was a more honorable or a less invidious office
to record the vices of past tyrants, than to celebrate the virtues of a
reigning monarch, he chose rather to relate, under the form of annals, the
actions of the four immediate successors of Augustus. To collect, to
dispose, and to adorn a series of fourscore years, in an immortal work,
every sentence of which is pregnant with the deepest observations and the
most lively images, was an undertaking sufficient to exercise the genius
of Tacitus himself during the greatest part of his life. In the last years
of the reign of Trajan, whilst the victorious monarch extended the power
of Rome beyond its ancient limits, the historian was describing, in the
second and fourth books of his annals, the tyranny of Tiberius; 39 and
the emperor Hadrian must have succeeded to the throne, before Tacitus, in
the regular prosecution of his work, could relate the fire of the capital,
and the cruelty of Nero towards the unfortunate Christians. At the
distance of sixty years, it was the duty of the annalist to adopt the
narratives of contemporaries; but it was natural for the philosopher to
indulge himself in the description of the origin, the progress, and the
character of the new sect, not so much according to the knowledge or
prejudices of the age of Nero, as according to those of the time of
Hadrian. 3 Tacitus very frequently trusts to the curiosity or reflection
of his readers to supply those intermediate circumstances and ideas,
which, in his extreme conciseness, he has thought proper to suppress. We
may therefore presume to imagine some probable cause which could direct
the cruelty of Nero against the Christians of Rome, whose obscurity, as
well as innocence, should have shielded them from his indignation, and
even from his notice. The Jews, who were numerous in the capital, and
oppressed in their own country, were a much fitter object for the
suspicions of the emperor and of the people: nor did it seem unlikely that
a vanquished nation, who already discovered their abhorrence of the Roman
yoke, might have recourse to the most atrocious means of gratifying their
implacable revenge. But the Jews possessed very powerful advocates in the
palace, and even in the heart of the tyrant; his wife and mistress, the
beautiful Poppæa, and a favorite player of the race of Abraham, who had
already employed their intercession in behalf of the obnoxious people. 40 In
their room it was necessary to offer some other victims, and it might
easily be suggested that, although the genuine followers of Moses were
innocent of the fire of Rome, there had arisen among them a new and
pernicious sect of Galilæans, which was capable of the most horrid
crimes. Under the appellation of Galilæans, two distinctions of men were
confounded, the most opposite to each other in their manners and
principles; the disciples who had embraced the faith of Jesus of Nazareth,
41
and the zealots who had followed the standard of Judas the Gaulonite. 42 The
former were the friends, the latter were the enemies, of human kind; and
the only resemblance between them consisted in the same inflexible
constancy, which, in the defence of their cause, rendered them insensible
of death and tortures. The followers of Judas, who impelled their
countrymen into rebellion, were soon buried under the ruins of Jerusalem;
whilst those of Jesus, known by the more celebrated name of Christians,
diffused themselves over the Roman empire. How natural was it for Tacitus,
in the time of Hadrian, to appropriate to the Christians the guilt and the
sufferings, 4211 which he might, with far greater truth and
justice, have attributed to a sect whose odious memory was almost
extinguished! 4. Whatever opinion may be entertained of this conjecture,
(for it is no more than a conjecture,) it is evident that the effect, as
well as the cause, of Nero’s persecution, was confined to the walls of
Rome, 43
that the religious tenets of the Galilæans or Christians, 431
were never made a subject of punishment, or even of inquiry; and that, as
the idea of their sufferings was for a long time connected with the idea
of cruelty and injustice, the moderation of succeeding princes inclined
them to spare a sect, oppressed by a tyrant, whose rage had been usually
directed against virtue and innocence.
It is somewhat remarkable that the flames of war consumed, almost at the
same time, the temple of Jerusalem and the Capitol of Rome; 44 and
it appears no less singular, that the tribute which devotion had destined
to the former, should have been converted by the power of an assaulting
victor to restore and adorn the splendor of the latter. 45 The
emperors levied a general capitation tax on the Jewish people; and
although the sum assessed on the head of each individual was
inconsiderable, the use for which it was designed, and the severity with
which it was exacted, were considered as an intolerable grievance. 46 Since
the officers of the revenue extended their unjust claim to many persons
who were strangers to the blood or religion of the Jews, it was impossible
that the Christians, who had so often sheltered themselves under the shade
of the synagogue, should now escape this rapacious persecution. Anxious as
they were to avoid the slightest infection of idolatry, their conscience
forbade them to contribute to the honor of that dæmon who had assumed the
character of the Capitoline Jupiter. As a very numerous though declining
party among the Christians still adhered to the law of Moses, their
efforts to dissemble their Jewish origin were detected by the decisive
test of circumcision; 47 nor were the Roman magistrates at leisure to
inquire into the difference of their religious tenets. Among the
Christians who were brought before the tribunal of the emperor, or, as it
seems more probable, before that of the procurator of Judæa, two persons
are said to have appeared, distinguished by their extraction, which was
more truly noble than that of the greatest monarchs. These were the
grandsons of St. Jude the apostle, who himself was the brother of Jesus
Christ. 48
Their natural pretensions to the throne of David might perhaps attract the
respect of the people, and excite the jealousy of the governor; but the
meanness of their garb, and the simplicity of their answers, soon
convinced him that they were neither desirous nor capable of disturbing
the peace of the Roman empire. They frankly confessed their royal origin,
and their near relation to the Messiah; but they disclaimed any temporal
views, and professed that his kingdom, which they devoutly expected, was
purely of a spiritual and angelic nature. When they were examined
concerning their fortune and occupation, they showed their hands, hardened
with daily labor, and declared that they derived their whole subsistence
from the cultivation of a farm near the village of Cocaba, of the extent
of about twenty-four English acres, 49 and of the value of nine
thousand drachms, or three hundred pounds sterling. The grandsons of St.
Jude were dismissed with compassion and contempt. 50
But although the obscurity of the house of David might protect them from
the suspicions of a tyrant, the present greatness of his own family
alarmed the pusillanimous temper of Domitian, which could only be appeased
by the blood of those Romans whom he either feared, or hated, or esteemed.
Of the two sons of his uncle Flavius Sabinus, 51 the elder was soon
convicted of treasonable intentions, and the younger, who bore the name of
Flavius Clemens, was indebted for his safety to his want of courage and
ability. 52
The emperor for a long time, distinguished so harmless a kinsman by his
favor and protection, bestowed on him his own niece Domitilla, adopted the
children of that marriage to the hope of the succession, and invested
their father with the honors of the consulship.
But he had scarcely finished the term of his annual magistracy, when, on a
slight pretence, he was condemned and executed; Domitilla was banished to
a desolate island on the coast of Campania; 53 and sentences either of
death or of confiscation were pronounced against a great number of who
were involved in the same accusation. The guilt imputed to their charge
was that of Atheism and Jewish manners; 54 a singular association of
ideas, which cannot with any propriety be applied except to the
Christians, as they were obscurely and imperfectly viewed by the
magistrates and by the writers of that period. On the strength of so
probable an interpretation, and too eagerly admitting the suspicions of a
tyrant as an evidence of their honorable crime, the church has placed both
Clemens and Domitilla among its first martyrs, and has branded the cruelty
of Domitian with the name of the second persecution. But this persecution
(if it deserves that epithet) was of no long duration. A few months after
the death of Clemens, and the banishment of Domitilla, Stephen, a freedman
belonging to the latter, who had enjoyed the favor, but who had not surely
embraced the faith, of his mistress, 5411 assassinated the
emperor in his palace. 55 The memory of Domitian was condemned by the
senate; his acts were rescinded; his exiles recalled; and under the gentle
administration of Nerva, while the innocent were restored to their rank
and fortunes, even the most guilty either obtained pardon or escaped
punishment. 56
II. About ten years afterwards, under the reign of Trajan, the younger
Pliny was intrusted by his friend and master with the government of
Bithynia and Pontus. He soon found himself at a loss to determine by what
rule of justice or of law he should direct his conduct in the execution of
an office the most repugnant to his humanity. Pliny had never assisted at
any judicial proceedings against the Christians, with whose name alone he
seems to be acquainted; and he was totally uninformed with regard to the
nature of their guilt, the method of their conviction, and the degree of
their punishment. In this perplexity he had recourse to his usual
expedient, of submitting to the wisdom of Trajan an impartial, and, in
some respects, a favorable account of the new superstition, requesting the
emperor, that he would condescend to resolve his doubts, and to instruct
his ignorance. 57 The life of Pliny had been employed in the
acquisition of learning, and in the business of the world.
Since the age of nineteen he had pleaded with distinction in the tribunals
of Rome, 58
filled a place in the senate, had been invested with the honors of the
consulship, and had formed very numerous connections with every order of
men, both in Italy and in the provinces. From his ignorance therefore we
may derive some useful information. We may assure ourselves, that when he
accepted the government of Bithynia, there were no general laws or decrees
of the senate in force against the Christians; that neither Trajan nor any
of his virtuous predecessors, whose edicts were received into the civil
and criminal jurisprudence, had publicly declared their intentions
concerning the new sect; and that whatever proceedings had been carried on
against the Christians, there were none of sufficient weight and authority
to establish a precedent for the conduct of a Roman magistrate.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
III.
The answer of Trajan, to which the Christians of the succeeding age have
frequently appealed, discovers as much regard for justice and humanity as
could be reconciled with his mistaken notions of religious policy. 59
Instead of displaying the implacable zeal of an inquisitor, anxious to
discover the most minute particles of heresy, and exulting in the number
of his victims, the emperor expresses much more solicitude to protect the
security of the innocent, than to prevent the escape of the guilty. He
acknowledged the difficulty of fixing any general plan; but he lays down
two salutary rules, which often afforded relief and support to the
distressed Christians. Though he directs the magistrates to punish such
persons as are legally convicted, he prohibits them, with a very humane
inconsistency, from making any inquiries concerning the supposed
criminals. Nor was the magistrate allowed to proceed on every kind of
information. Anonymous charges the emperor rejects, as too repugnant to
the equity of his government; and he strictly requires, for the conviction
of those to whom the guilt of Christianity is imputed, the positive
evidence of a fair and open accuser. It is likewise probable, that the
persons who assumed so invidiuous an office, were obliged to declare the
grounds of their suspicions, to specify (both in respect to time and
place) the secret assemblies, which their Christian adversary had
frequented, and to disclose a great number of circumstances, which were
concealed with the most vigilant jealousy from the eye of the profane. If
they succeeded in their prosecution, they were exposed to the resentment
of a considerable and active party, to the censure of the more liberal
portion of mankind, and to the ignominy which, in every age and country,
has attended the character of an informer. If, on the contrary, they
failed in their proofs, they incurred the severe and perhaps capital
penalty, which, according to a law published by the emperor Hadrian, was
inflicted on those who falsely attributed to their fellow-citizens the
crime of Christianity. The violence of personal or superstitious animosity
might sometimes prevail over the most natural apprehensions of disgrace
and danger but it cannot surely be imagined, 60 that accusations of so
unpromising an appearance were either lightly or frequently undertaken by
the Pagan subjects of the Roman empire. 6011
The expedient which was employed to elude the prudence of the laws,
affords a sufficient proof how effectually they disappointed the
mischievous designs of private malice or superstitious zeal. In a large
and tumultuous assembly, the restraints of fear and shame, so forcible on
the minds of individuals, are deprived of the greatest part of their
influence. The pious Christian, as he was desirous to obtain, or to
escape, the glory of martyrdom, expected, either with impatience or with
terror, the stated returns of the public games and festivals. On those
occasions the inhabitants of the great cities of the empire were collected
in the circus or the theatre, where every circumstance of the place, as
well as of the ceremony, contributed to kindle their devotion, and to
extinguish their humanity. Whilst the numerous spectators, crowned with
garlands, perfumed with incense, purified with the blood of victims, and
surrounded with the altars and statues of their tutelar deities, resigned
themselves to the enjoyment of pleasures, which they considered as an
essential part of their religious worship, they recollected, that the
Christians alone abhorred the gods of mankind, and by their absence and
melancholy on these solemn festivals, seemed to insult or to lament the
public felicity. If the empire had been afflicted by any recent calamity,
by a plague, a famine, or an unsuccessful war; if the Tyber had, or if the
Nile had not, risen beyond its banks; if the earth had shaken, or if the
temperate order of the seasons had been interrupted, the superstitious
Pagans were convinced that the crimes and the impiety of the Christians,
who were spared by the excessive lenity of the government, had at length
provoked the divine justice. It was not among a licentious and exasperated
populace, that the forms of legal proceedings could be observed; it was
not in an amphitheatre, stained with the blood of wild beasts and
gladiators, that the voice of compassion could be heard. The impatient
clamors of the multitude denounced the Christians as the enemies of gods
and men, doomed them to the severest tortures, and venturing to accuse by
name some of the most distinguished of the new sectaries, required with
irresistible vehemence that they should be instantly apprehended and cast
to the lions. 61 The provincial governors and magistrates who
presided in the public spectacles were usually inclined to gratify the
inclinations, and to appease the rage, of the people, by the sacrifice of
a few obnoxious victims. But the wisdom of the emperors protected the
church from the danger of these tumultuous clamors and irregular
accusations, which they justly censured as repugnant both to the firmness
and to the equity of their administration. The edicts of Hadrian and of
Antoninus Pius expressly declared, that the voice of the multitude should
never be admitted as legal evidence to convict or to punish those
unfortunate persons who had embraced the enthusiasm of the Christians. 62
III. Punishment was not the inevitable consequence of conviction, and the
Christians, whose guilt was the most clearly proved by the testimony of
witnesses, or even by their voluntary confession, still retained in their
own power the alternative of life or death. It was not so much the past
offence, as the actual resistance, which excited the indignation of the
magistrate. He was persuaded that he offered them an easy pardon, since,
if they consented to cast a few grains of incense upon the altar, they
were dismissed from the tribunal in safety and with applause. It was
esteemed the duty of a humane judge to endeavor to reclaim, rather than to
punish, those deluded enthusiasts. Varying his tone according to the age,
the sex, or the situation of the prisoners, he frequently condescended to
set before their eyes every circumstance which could render life more
pleasing, or death more terrible; and to solicit, nay, to entreat, them,
that they would show some compassion to themselves, to their families, and
to their friends. 63 If threats and persuasions proved ineffectual,
he had often recourse to violence; the scourge and the rack were called in
to supply the deficiency of argument, and every art of cruelty was
employed to subdue such inflexible, and, as it appeared to the Pagans,
such criminal, obstinacy. The ancient apologists of Christianity have
censured, with equal truth and severity, the irregular conduct of their
persecutors who, contrary to every principle of judicial proceeding,
admitted the use of torture, in order to obtain, not a confession, but a
denial, of the crime which was the object of their inquiry. 64 The
monks of succeeding ages, who, in their peaceful solitudes, entertained
themselves with diversifying the deaths and sufferings of the primitive
martyrs, have frequently invented torments of a much more refined and
ingenious nature. In particular, it has pleased them to suppose, that the
zeal of the Roman magistrates, disdaining every consideration of moral
virtue or public decency, endeavored to seduce those whom they were unable
to vanquish, and that by their orders the most brutal violence was offered
to those whom they found it impossible to seduce. It is related, that
females, who were prepared to despise death, were sometimes condemned to a
more severe trial, 6411 and called upon to determine whether they
set a higher value on their religion or on their chastity. The youths to
whose licentious embraces they were abandoned, received a solemn
exhortation from the judge, to exert their most strenuous efforts to
maintain the honor of Venus against the impious virgin who refused to burn
incense on her altars. Their violence, however, was commonly disappointed,
and the seasonable interposition of some miraculous power preserved the
chaste spouses of Christ from the dishonor even of an involuntary defeat.
We should not indeed neglect to remark, that the more ancient as well as
authentic memorials of the church are seldom polluted with these
extravagant and indecent fictions. 65
The total disregard of truth and probability in the representation of
these primitive martyrdoms was occasioned by a very natural mistake. The
ecclesiastical writers of the fourth or fifth centuries ascribed to the
magistrates of Rome the same degree of implacable and unrelenting zeal
which filled their own breasts against the heretics or the idolaters of
their own times.
It is not improbable that some of those persons who were raised to the
dignities of the empire, might have imbibed the prejudices of the
populace, and that the cruel disposition of others might occasionally be
stimulated by motives of avarice or of personal resentment. 66 But
it is certain, and we may appeal to the grateful confessions of the first
Christians, that the greatest part of those magistrates who exercised in
the provinces the authority of the emperor, or of the senate, and to whose
hands alone the jurisdiction of life and death was intrusted, behaved like
men of polished manners and liberal education, who respected the rules of
justice, and who were conversant with the precepts of philosophy. They
frequently declined the odious task of persecution, dismissed the charge
with contempt, or suggested to the accused Christian some legal evasion,
by which he might elude the severity of the laws. 67 Whenever they were
invested with a discretionary power, 68 they used it much less
for the oppression, than for the relief and benefit of the afflicted
church. They were far from condemning all the Christians who were accused
before their tribunal, and very far from punishing with death all those
who were convicted of an obstinate adherence to the new superstition.
Contenting themselves, for the most part, with the milder chastisements of
imprisonment, exile, or slavery in the mines, 69 they left the unhappy
victims of their justice some reason to hope, that a prosperous event, the
accession, the marriage, or the triumph of an emperor, might speedily
restore them, by a general pardon, to their former state. The martyrs,
devoted to immediate execution by the Roman magistrates, appear to have
been selected from the most opposite extremes. They were either bishops
and presbyters, the persons the most distinguished among the Christians by
their rank and influence, and whose example might strike terror into the
whole sect; 70 or else they were the meanest and most abject
among them, particularly those of the servile condition, whose lives were
esteemed of little value, and whose sufferings were viewed by the ancients
with too careless an indifference. 71 The learned Origen, who,
from his experience as well as reading, was intimately acquainted with the
history of the Christians, declares, in the most express terms, that the
number of martyrs was very inconsiderable. 72 His authority would alone
be sufficient to annihilate that formidable army of martyrs, whose relics,
drawn for the most part from the catacombs of Rome, have replenished so
many churches, 73 and whose marvellous achievements have been the
subject of so many volumes of Holy Romance. 74 But the general assertion
of Origen may be explained and confirmed by the particular testimony of
his friend Dionysius, who, in the immense city of Alexandria, and under
the rigorous persecution of Decius, reckons only ten men and seven women
who suffered for the profession of the Christian name. 75
During the same period of persecution, the zealous, the eloquent, the
ambitious Cyprian governed the church, not only of Carthage, but even of
Africa. He possessed every quality which could engage the reverence of the
faithful, or provoke the suspicions and resentment of the Pagan
magistrates. His character as well as his station seemed to mark out that
holy prelate as the most distinguished object of envy and danger. 76 The
experience, however, of the life of Cyprian, is sufficient to prove that
our fancy has exaggerated the perilous situation of a Christian bishop;
and the dangers to which he was exposed were less imminent than those
which temporal ambition is always prepared to encounter in the pursuit of
honors. Four Roman emperors, with their families, their favorites, and
their adherents, perished by the sword in the space of ten years, during
which the bishop of Carthage guided by his authority and eloquence the
councils of the African church. It was only in the third year of his
administration, that he had reason, during a few months, to apprehend the
severe edicts of Decius, the vigilance of the magistrate and the clamors
of the multitude, who loudly demanded, that Cyprian, the leader of the
Christians, should be thrown to the lions. Prudence suggested the
necessity of a temporary retreat, and the voice of prudence was obeyed. He
withdrew himself into an obscure solitude, from whence he could maintain a
constant correspondence with the clergy and people of Carthage; and,
concealing himself till the tempest was past, he preserved his life,
without relinquishing either his power or his reputation. His extreme
caution did not, however, escape the censure of the more rigid Christians,
who lamented, or the reproaches of his personal enemies, who insulted, a
conduct which they considered as a pusillanimous and criminal desertion of
the most sacred duty. 77 The propriety of reserving himself for the
future exigencies of the church, the example of several holy bishops, 78 and
the divine admonitions, which, as he declares himself, he frequently
received in visions and ecstacies, were the reasons alleged in his
justification. 79 But his best apology may be found in the
cheerful resolution, with which, about eight years afterwards, he suffered
death in the cause of religion. The authentic history of his martyrdom has
been recorded with unusual candor and impartiality. A short abstract,
therefore, of its most important circumstances, will convey the clearest
information of the spirit, and of the forms, of the Roman persecutions. 80
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
IV.
When Valerian was consul for the third, and Gallienus for the fourth time,
Paternus, proconsul of Africa, summoned Cyprian to appear in his private
council-chamber. He there acquainted him with the Imperial mandate which
he had just received, 81 that those who had abandoned the Roman religion
should immediately return to the practice of the ceremonies of their
ancestors. Cyprian replied without hesitation, that he was a Christian and
a bishop, devoted to the worship of the true and only Deity, to whom he
offered up his daily supplications for the safety and prosperity of the
two emperors, his lawful sovereigns.
With modest confidence he pleaded the privilege of a citizen, in refusing
to give any answer to some invidious and indeed illegal questions which
the proconsul had proposed. A sentence of banishment was pronounced as the
penalty of Cyprian’s disobedience; and he was conducted without delay to
Curubis, a free and maritime city of Zeugitania, in a pleasant situation,
a fertile territory, and at the distance of about forty miles from
Carthage. 82
The exiled bishop enjoyed the conveniences of life and the consciousness
of virtue. His reputation was diffused over Africa and Italy; an account
of his behavior was published for the edification of the Christian world;
83
and his solitude was frequently interrupted by the letters, the visits,
and the congratulations of the faithful. On the arrival of a new proconsul
in the province the fortune of Cyprian appeared for some time to wear a
still more favorable aspect. He was recalled from banishment; and though
not yet permitted to return to Carthage, his own gardens in the
neighborhood of the capital were assigned for the place of his residence.
84
At length, exactly one year 85 after Cyprian was first apprehended, Galerius
Maximus, proconsul of Africa, received the Imperial warrant for the
execution of the Christian teachers. The bishop of Carthage was sensible
that he should be singled out for one of the first victims; and the
frailty of nature tempted him to withdraw himself, by a secret flight,
from the danger and the honor of martyrdom; 8511 but soon recovering
that fortitude which his character required, he returned to his gardens,
and patiently expected the ministers of death. Two officers of rank, who
were intrusted with that commission, placed Cyprian between them in a
chariot, and as the proconsul was not then at leisure, they conducted him,
not to a prison, but to a private house in Carthage, which belonged to one
of them. An elegant supper was provided for the entertainment of the
bishop, and his Christian friends were permitted for the last time to
enjoy his society, whilst the streets were filled with a multitude of the
faithful, anxious and alarmed at the approaching fate of their spiritual
father. 86
In the morning he appeared before the tribunal of the proconsul, who,
after informing himself of the name and situation of Cyprian, commanded
him to offer sacrifice, and pressed him to reflect on the consequences of
his disobedience. The refusal of Cyprian was firm and decisive; and the
magistrate, when he had taken the opinion of his council, pronounced with
some reluctance the sentence of death. It was conceived in the following
terms: “That Thascius Cyprianus should be immediately beheaded, as the
enemy of the gods of Rome, and as the chief and ringleader of a criminal
association, which he had seduced into an impious resistance against the
laws of the most holy emperors, Valerian and Gallienus.” 87 The
manner of his execution was the mildest and least painful that could be
inflicted on a person convicted of any capital offence; nor was the use of
torture admitted to obtain from the bishop of Carthage either the
recantation of his principles or the discovery of his accomplices.
As soon as the sentence was proclaimed, a general cry of “We will die with
him,” arose at once among the listening multitude of Christians who waited
before the palace gates. The generous effusions of their zeal and their
affection were neither serviceable to Cyprian nor dangerous to themselves.
He was led away under a guard of tribunes and centurions, without
resistance and without insult, to the place of his execution, a spacious
and level plain near the city, which was already filled with great numbers
of spectators. His faithful presbyters and deacons were permitted to
accompany their holy bishop. 8711 They assisted him
in laying aside his upper garment, spread linen on the ground to catch the
precious relics of his blood, and received his orders to bestow
five-and-twenty pieces of gold on the executioner. The martyr then covered
his face with his hands, and at one blow his head was separated from his
body. His corpse remained during some hours exposed to the curiosity of
the Gentiles: but in the night it was removed, and transported in a
triumphal procession, and with a splendid illumination, to the
burial-place of the Christians. The funeral of Cyprian was publicly
celebrated without receiving any interruption from the Roman magistrates;
and those among the faithful, who had performed the last offices to his
person and his memory, were secure from the danger of inquiry or of
punishment. It is remarkable, that of so great a multitude of bishops in
the province of Africa, Cyprian was the first who was esteemed worthy to
obtain the crown of martyrdom. 88
It was in the choice of Cyprian, either to die a martyr, or to live an
apostate; but on the choice depended the alternative of honor or infamy.
Could we suppose that the bishop of Carthage had employed the profession
of the Christian faith only as the instrument of his avarice or ambition,
it was still incumbent on him to support the character he had assumed; 89 and
if he possessed the smallest degree of manly fortitude, rather to expose
himself to the most cruel tortures, than by a single act to exchange the
reputation of a whole life, for the abhorrence of his Christian brethren,
and the contempt of the Gentile world. But if the zeal of Cyprian was
supported by the sincere conviction of the truth of those doctrines which
he preached, the crown of martyrdom must have appeared to him as an object
of desire rather than of terror. It is not easy to extract any distinct
ideas from the vague though eloquent declamations of the Fathers, or to
ascertain the degree of immortal glory and happiness which they
confidently promised to those who were so fortunate as to shed their blood
in the cause of religion. 90 They inculcated with becoming diligence, that
the fire of martyrdom supplied every defect and expiated every sin; that
while the souls of ordinary Christians were obliged to pass through a slow
and painful purification, the triumphant sufferers entered into the
immediate fruition of eternal bliss, where, in the society of the
patriarchs, the apostles, and the prophets, they reigned with Christ, and
acted as his assessors in the universal judgment of mankind. The assurance
of a lasting reputation upon earth, a motive so congenial to the vanity of
human nature, often served to animate the courage of the martyrs.
The honors which Rome or Athens bestowed on those citizens who had fallen
in the cause of their country, were cold and unmeaning demonstrations of
respect, when compared with the ardent gratitude and devotion which the
primitive church expressed towards the victorious champions of the faith.
The annual commemoration of their virtues and sufferings was observed as a
sacred ceremony, and at length terminated in religious worship. Among the
Christians who had publicly confessed their religious principles, those
who (as it very frequently happened) had been dismissed from the tribunal
or the prisons of the Pagan magistrates, obtained such honors as were
justly due to their imperfect martyrdom and their generous resolution. The
most pious females courted the permission of imprinting kisses on the
fetters which they had worn, and on the wounds which they had received.
Their persons were esteemed holy, their decisions were admitted with
deference, and they too often abused, by their spiritual pride and
licentious manners, the preëminence which their zeal and intrepidity had
acquired. 91
Distinctions like these, whilst they display the exalted merit, betray the
inconsiderable number of those who suffered, and of those who died, for
the profession of Christianity.
The sober discretion of the present age will more readily censure than
admire, but can more easily admire than imitate, the fervor of the first
Christians, who, according to the lively expressions of Sulpicius Severus,
desired martyrdom with more eagerness than his own contemporaries
solicited a bishopric. 92 The epistles which Ignatius composed as he was
carried in chains through the cities of Asia, breathe sentiments the most
repugnant to the ordinary feelings of human nature. He earnestly beseeches
the Romans, that when he should be exposed in the amphitheatre, they would
not, by their kind but unseasonable intercession, deprive him of the crown
of glory; and he declares his resolution to provoke and irritate the wild
beasts which might be employed as the instruments of his death. 93 Some
stories are related of the courage of martyrs, who actually performed what
Ignatius had intended; who exasperated the fury of the lions, pressed the
executioner to hasten his office, cheerfully leaped into the fires which
were kindled to consume them, and discovered a sensation of joy and
pleasure in the midst of the most exquisite tortures. Several examples
have been preserved of a zeal impatient of those restraints which the
emperors had provided for the security of the church. The Christians
sometimes supplied by their voluntary declaration the want of an accuser,
rudely disturbed the public service of paganism, 94 and rushing in crowds
round the tribunal of the magistrates, called upon them to pronounce and
to inflict the sentence of the law. The behavior of the Christians was too
remarkable to escape the notice of the ancient philosophers; but they seem
to have considered it with much less admiration than astonishment.
Incapable of conceiving the motives which sometimes transported the
fortitude of believers beyond the bounds of prudence or reason, they
treated such an eagerness to die as the strange result of obstinate
despair, of stupid insensibility, or of superstitious frenzy. 95
“Unhappy men!” exclaimed the proconsul Antoninus to the Christians of
Asia; “unhappy men! if you are thus weary of your lives, is it so
difficult for you to find ropes and precipices?” 96 He was extremely cautious
(as it is observed by a learned and picus historian) of punishing men who
had found no accusers but themselves, the Imperial laws not having made
any provision for so unexpected a case: condemning therefore a few as a
warning to their brethren, he dismissed the multitude with indignation and
contempt. 97
Notwithstanding this real or affected disdain, the intrepid constancy of
the faithful was productive of more salutary effects on those minds which
nature or grace had disposed for the easy reception of religious truth. On
these melancholy occasions, there were many among the Gentiles who pitied,
who admired, and who were converted. The generous enthusiasm was
communicated from the sufferer to the spectators; and the blood of
martyrs, according to a well-known observation, became the seed of the
church.
But although devotion had raised, and eloquence continued to inflame, this
fever of the mind, it insensibly gave way to the more natural hopes and
fears of the human heart, to the love of life, the apprehension of pain,
and the horror of dissolution. The more prudent rulers of the church found
themselves obliged to restrain the indiscreet ardor of their followers,
and to distrust a constancy which too often abandoned them in the hour of
trial. 98
As the lives of the faithful became less mortified and austere, they were
every day less ambitious of the honors of martyrdom; and the soldiers of
Christ, instead of distinguishing themselves by voluntary deeds of
heroism, frequently deserted their post, and fled in confusion before the
enemy whom it was their duty to resist. There were three methods, however,
of escaping the flames of persecution, which were not attended with an
equal degree of guilt: first, indeed, was generally allowed to be
innocent; the second was of a doubtful, or at least of a venial, nature;
but the third implied a direct and criminal apostasy from the Christian
faith.
I. A modern inquisitor would hear with surprise, that whenever an
information was given to a Roman magistrate of any person within his
jurisdiction who had embraced the sect of the Christians, the charge was
communicated to the party accused, and that a convenient time was allowed
him to settle his domestic concerns, and to prepare an answer to the crime
which was imputed to him. 99 If he entertained any doubt of his own
constancy, such a delay afforded him the opportunity of preserving his
life and honor by flight, of withdrawing himself into some obscure
retirement or some distant province, and of patiently expecting the return
of peace and security. A measure so consonant to reason was soon
authorized by the advice and example of the most holy prelates; and seems
to have been censured by few except by the Montanists, who deviated into
heresy by their strict and obstinate adherence to the rigor of ancient
discipline. 100
II.The provincial governors, whose zeal was less prevalent than their
avarice, had countenanced the practice of selling certificates, (or
libels, as they were called,) which attested, that the persons therein
mentioned had complied with the laws, and sacrificed to the Roman deities.
By producing these false declarations, the opulent and timid Christians
were enabled to silence the malice of an informer, and to reconcile in
some measure their safety with their religion.101 A slight penance
atoned for this profane dissimulation. 1011
III. In every persecution there were great numbers of unworthy Christians
who publicly disowned or renounced the faith which they had professed; and
who confirmed the sincerity of their abjuration, by the legal acts of
burning incense or of offering sacrifices. Some of these apostates had
yielded on the first menace or exhortation of the magistrate; whilst the
patience of others had been subdued by the length and repetition of
tortures. The affrighted countenances of some betrayed their inward
remorse, while others advanced with confidence and alacrity to the altars
of the gods. 102 But the disguise which fear had imposed,
subsisted no longer than the present danger. As soon as the severity of
the persecution was abated, the doors of the churches were assailed by the
returning multitude of penitents who detested their idolatrous submission,
and who solicited with equal ardor, but with various success, their
readmission into the society of Christians. 103 1031
IV. Notwithstanding the general rules established for the conviction and
punishment of the Christians, the fate of those sectaries, in an extensive
and arbitrary government, must still in a great measure, have depended on
their own behavior, the circumstances of the times, and the temper of
their supreme as well as subordinate rulers. Zeal might sometimes provoke,
and prudence might sometimes avert or assuage, the superstitious fury of
the Pagans. A variety of motives might dispose the provincial governors
either to enforce or to relax the execution of the laws; and of these
motives the most forcible was their regard not only for the public edicts,
but for the secret intentions of the emperor, a glance from whose eye was
sufficient to kindle or to extinguish the flames of persecution. As often
as any occasional severities were exercised in the different parts of the
empire, the primitive Christians lamented and perhaps magnified their own
sufferings; but the celebrated number of ten persecutions has been
determined by the ecclesiastical writers of the fifth century, who
possessed a more distinct view of the prosperous or adverse fortunes of
the church, from the age of Nero to that of Diocletian. The ingenious
parallels of the ten plagues of Egypt, and of the ten horns of the
Apocalypse, first suggested this calculation to their minds; and in their
application of the faith of prophecy to the truth of history, they were
careful to select those reigns which were indeed the most hostile to the
Christian cause. 104 But these transient persecutions served only
to revive the zeal and to restore the discipline of the faithful; and the
moments of extraordinary rigor were compensated by much longer intervals
of peace and security. The indifference of some princes, and the
indulgence of others, permitted the Christians to enjoy, though not
perhaps a legal, yet an actual and public, toleration of their religion.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
V.
The apology of Tertullian contains two very ancient, very singular, but at
the same time very suspicious, instances of Imperial clemency; the edicts
published by Tiberius, and by Marcus Antoninus, and designed not only to
protect the innocence of the Christians, but even to proclaim those
stupendous miracles which had attested the truth of their doctrine. The
first of these examples is attended with some difficulties which might
perplex a sceptical mind. 105 We are required to believe, that Pontius
Pilate informed the emperor of the unjust sentence of death which he had
pronounced against an innocent, and, as it appeared, a divine, person; and
that, without acquiring the merit, he exposed himself to the danger of
martyrdom; that Tiberius, who avowed his contempt for all religion,
immediately conceived the design of placing the Jewish Messiah among the
gods of Rome; that his servile senate ventured to disobey the commands of
their master; that Tiberius, instead of resenting their refusal, contented
himself with protecting the Christians from the severity of the laws, many
years before such laws were enacted, or before the church had assumed any
distinct name or existence; and lastly, that the memory of this
extraordinary transaction was preserved in the most public and authentic
records, which escaped the knowledge of the historians of Greece and Rome,
and were only visible to the eyes of an African Christian, who composed
his apology one hundred and sixty years after the death of Tiberius. The
edict of Marcus Antoninus is supposed to have been the effect of his
devotion and gratitude for the miraculous deliverance which he had
obtained in the Marcomannic war. The distress of the legions, the
seasonable tempest of rain and hail, of thunder and of lightning, and the
dismay and defeat of the barbarians, have been celebrated by the eloquence
of several Pagan writers. If there were any Christians in that army, it
was natural that they should ascribe some merit to the fervent prayers,
which, in the moment of danger, they had offered up for their own and the
public safety. But we are still assured by monuments of brass and marble,
by the Imperial medals, and by the Antonine column, that neither the
prince nor the people entertained any sense of this signal obligation,
since they unanimously attribute their deliverance to the providence of
Jupiter, and to the interposition of Mercury. 106 During the whole
course of his reign, Marcus despised the Christians as a philosopher, and
punished them as a sovereign. 1061
By a singular fatality, the hardships which they had endured under the
government of a virtuous prince, immediately ceased on the accession of a
tyrant; and as none except themselves had experienced the injustice of
Marcus, so they alone were protected by the lenity of Commodus. The
celebrated Marcia, the most favored of his concubines, and who at length
contrived the murder of her Imperial lover, entertained a singular
affection for the oppressed church; and though it was impossible that she
could reconcile the practice of vice with the precepts of the gospel, she
might hope to atone for the frailties of her sex and profession by
declaring herself the patroness of the Christians. 107 Under the gracious
protection of Marcia, they passed in safety the thirteen years of a cruel
tyranny; and when the empire was established in the house of Severus, they
formed a domestic but more honorable connection with the new court. The
emperor was persuaded, that in a dangerous sickness, he had derived some
benefit, either spiritual or physical, from the holy oil, with which one
of his slaves had anointed him. He always treated with peculiar
distinction several persons of both sexes who had embraced the new
religion. The nurse as well as the preceptor of Caracalla were Christians;
1071
and if that young prince ever betrayed a sentiment of humanity, it was
occasioned by an incident, which, however trifling, bore some relation to
the cause of Christianity. 108 Under the reign of Severus, the fury of the
populace was checked; the rigor of ancient laws was for some time
suspended; and the provincial governors were satisfied with receiving an
annual present from the churches within their jurisdiction, as the price,
or as the reward, of their moderation. 109 The controversy
concerning the precise time of the celebration of Easter, armed the
bishops of Asia and Italy against each other, and was considered as the
most important business of this period of leisure and tranquillity. 110
Nor was the peace of the church interrupted, till the increasing numbers
of proselytes seem at length to have attracted the attention, and to have
alienated the mind of Severus. With the design of restraining the progress
of Christianity, he published an edict, which, though it was designed to
affect only the new converts, could not be carried into strict execution,
without exposing to danger and punishment the most zealous of their
teachers and missionaries. In this mitigated persecution we may still
discover the indulgent spirit of Rome and of Polytheism, which so readily
admitted every excuse in favor of those who practised the religious
ceremonies of their fathers. 111
But the laws which Severus had enacted soon expired with the authority of
that emperor; and the Christians, after this accidental tempest, enjoyed a
calm of thirty-eight years. 112 Till this period they had usually held their
assemblies in private houses and sequestered places. They were now
permitted to erect and consecrate convenient edifices for the purpose of
religious worship; 113 to purchase lands, even at Rome itself, for
the use of the community; and to conduct the elections of their
ecclesiastical ministers in so public, but at the same time in so
exemplary a manner, as to deserve the respectful attention of the
Gentiles. 114 This long repose of the church was
accompanied with dignity. The reigns of those princes who derived their
extraction from the Asiatic provinces, proved the most favorable to the
Christians; the eminent persons of the sect, instead of being reduced to
implore the protection of a slave or concubine, were admitted into the
palace in the honorable characters of priests and philosophers; and their
mysterious doctrines, which were already diffused among the people,
insensibly attracted the curiosity of their sovereign. When the empress
Mammæa passed through Antioch, she expressed a desire of conversing with
the celebrated Origen, the fame of whose piety and learning was spread
over the East. Origen obeyed so flattering an invitation, and though he
could not expect to succeed in the conversion of an artful and ambitious
woman, she listened with pleasure to his eloquent exhortations, and
honorably dismissed him to his retirement in Palestine. 115
The sentiments of Mammæa were adopted by her son Alexander, and the
philosophic devotion of that emperor was marked by a singular but
injudicious regard for the Christian religion. In his domestic chapel he
placed the statues of Abraham, of Orpheus, of Apollonius, and of Christ,
as an honor justly due to those respectable sages who had instructed
mankind in the various modes of addressing their homage to the supreme and
universal Deity. 116 A purer faith, as well as worship, was openly
professed and practised among his household. Bishops, perhaps for the
first time, were seen at court; and, after the death of Alexander, when
the inhuman Maximin discharged his fury on the favorites and servants of
his unfortunate benefactor, a great number of Christians of every rank and
of both sexes, were involved in the promiscuous massacre, which, on their
account, has improperly received the name of Persecution. 117
1171
Notwithstanding the cruel disposition of Maximin, the effects of his
resentment against the Christians were of a very local and temporary
nature, and the pious Origen, who had been proscribed as a devoted victim,
was still reserved to convey the truths of the gospel to the ear of
monarchs. 118 He addressed several edifying letters to the
emperor Philip, to his wife, and to his mother; and as soon as that
prince, who was born in the neighborhood of Palestine, had usurped the
Imperial sceptre, the Christians acquired a friend and a protector. The
public and even partial favor of Philip towards the sectaries of the new
religion, and his constant reverence for the ministers of the church, gave
some color to the suspicion, which prevailed in his own times, that the
emperor himself was become a convert to the faith; 119 and afforded some
grounds for a fable which was afterwards invented, that he had been
purified by confession and penance from the guilt contracted by the murder
of his innocent predecessor. 120 The fall of Philip introduced, with the
change of masters, a new system of government, so oppressive to the
Christians, that their former condition, ever since the time of Domitian,
was represented as a state of perfect freedom and security, if compared
with the rigorous treatment which they experienced under the short reign
of Decius. 121 The virtues of that prince will scarcely
allow us to suspect that he was actuated by a mean resentment against the
favorites of his predecessor; and it is more reasonable to believe, that
in the prosecution of his general design to restore the purity of Roman
manners, he was desirous of delivering the empire from what he condemned
as a recent and criminal superstition. The bishops of the most
considerable cities were removed by exile or death: the vigilance of the
magistrates prevented the clergy of Rome during sixteen months from
proceeding to a new election; and it was the opinion of the Christians,
that the emperor would more patiently endure a competitor for the purple,
than a bishop in the capital. 122 Were it possible to
suppose that the penetration of Decius had discovered pride under the
disguise of humility, or that he could foresee the temporal dominion which
might insensibly arise from the claims of spiritual authority, we might be
less surprised, that he should consider the successors of St. Peter, as
the most formidable rivals to those of Augustus.
The administration of Valerian was distinguished by a levity and
inconstancy ill suited to the gravity of the Roman Censor. In the first
part of his reign, he surpassed in clemency those princes who had been
suspected of an attachment to the Christian faith. In the last three years
and a half, listening to the insinuations of a minister addicted to the
superstitions of Egypt, he adopted the maxims, and imitated the severity,
of his predecessor Decius. 123 The accession of Gallienus, which increased
the calamities of the empire, restored peace to the church; and the
Christians obtained the free exercise of their religion by an edict
addressed to the bishops, and conceived in such terms as seemed to
acknowledge their office and public character. 124 The ancient laws,
without being formally repealed, were suffered to sink into oblivion; and
(excepting only some hostile intentions which are attributed to the
emperor Aurelian 125 the disciples of Christ passed above forty
years in a state of prosperity, far more dangerous to their virtue than
the severest trials of persecution.
The story of Paul of Samosata, who filled the metropolitan see of Antioch,
while the East was in the hands of Odenathus and Zenobia, may serve to
illustrate the condition and character of the times. The wealth of that
prelate was a sufficient evidence of his guilt, since it was neither
derived from the inheritance of his fathers, nor acquired by the arts of
honest industry. But Paul considered the service of the church as a very
lucrative profession. 126 His ecclesiastical jurisdiction was venal and
rapacious; he extorted frequent contributions from the most opulent of the
faithful, and converted to his own use a considerable part of the public
revenue. By his pride and luxury, the Christian religion was rendered
odious in the eyes of the Gentiles. His council chamber and his throne,
the splendor with which he appeared in public, the suppliant crowd who
solicited his attention, the multitude of letters and petitions to which
he dictated his answers, and the perpetual hurry of business in which he
was involved, were circumstances much better suited to the state of a
civil magistrate, 127 than to the humility of a primitive bishop.
When he harangued his people from the pulpit, Paul affected the figurative
style and the theatrical gestures of an Asiatic sophist, while the
cathedral resounded with the loudest and most extravagant acclamations in
the praise of his divine eloquence. Against those who resisted his power,
or refused to flatter his vanity, the prelate of Antioch was arrogant,
rigid, and inexorable; but he relaxed the discipline, and lavished the
treasures of the church on his dependent clergy, who were permitted to
imitate their master in the gratification of every sensual appetite. For
Paul indulged himself very freely in the pleasures of the table, and he
had received into the episcopal palace two young and beautiful women as
the constant companions of his leisure moments. 128
Notwithstanding these scandalous vices, if Paul of Samosata had preserved
the purity of the orthodox faith, his reign over the capital of Syria
would have ended only with his life; and had a seasonable persecution
intervened, an effort of courage might perhaps have placed him in the rank
of saints and martyrs. 1281
Some nice and subtle errors, which he imprudently adopted and obstinately
maintained, concerning the doctrine of the Trinity, excited the zeal and
indignation of the Eastern churches. 129
From Egypt to the Euxine Sea, the bishops were in arms and in motion.
Several councils were held, confutations were published, excommunications
were pronounced, ambiguous explanations were by turns accepted and
refused, treaties were concluded and violated, and at length Paul of
Samosata was degraded from his episcopal character, by the sentence of
seventy or eighty bishops, who assembled for that purpose at Antioch, and
who, without consulting the rights of the clergy or people, appointed a
successor by their own authority. The manifest irregularity of this
proceeding increased the numbers of the discontented faction; and as Paul,
who was no stranger to the arts of courts, had insinuated himself into the
favor of Zenobia, he maintained above four years the possession of the
episcopal house and office. 1291 The victory of
Aurelian changed the face of the East, and the two contending parties, who
applied to each other the epithets of schism and heresy, were either
commanded or permitted to plead their cause before the tribunal of the
conqueror. This public and very singular trial affords a convincing proof
that the existence, the property, the privileges, and the internal policy
of the Christians, were acknowledged, if not by the laws, at least by the
magistrates, of the empire. As a Pagan and as a soldier, it could scarcely
be expected that Aurelian should enter into the discussion, whether the
sentiments of Paul or those of his adversaries were most agreeable to the
true standard of the orthodox faith. His determination, however, was
founded on the general principles of equity and reason. He considered the
bishops of Italy as the most impartial and respectable judges among the
Christians, and as soon as he was informed that they had unanimously
approved the sentence of the council, he acquiesced in their opinion, and
immediately gave orders that Paul should be compelled to relinquish the
temporal possessions belonging to an office, of which, in the judgment of
his brethren, he had been regularly deprived. But while we applaud the
justice, we should not overlook the policy, of Aurelian, who was desirous
of restoring and cementing the dependence of the provinces on the capital,
by every means which could bind the interest or prejudices of any part of
his subjects. 130
Amidst the frequent revolutions of the empire, the Christians still
flourished in peace and prosperity; and notwithstanding a celebrated æra
of martyrs has been deduced from the accession of Diocletian, 131
the new system of policy, introduced and maintained by the wisdom of that
prince, continued, during more than eighteen years, to breathe the mildest
and most liberal spirit of religious toleration. The mind of Diocletian
himself was less adapted indeed to speculative inquiries, than to the
active labors of war and government. His prudence rendered him averse to
any great innovation, and though his temper was not very susceptible of
zeal or enthusiasm, he always maintained an habitual regard for the
ancient deities of the empire. But the leisure of the two empresses, of
his wife Prisca, and of Valeria, his daughter, permitted them to listen
with more attention and respect to the truths of Christianity, which in
every age has acknowledged its important obligations to female devotion.
132
The principal eunuchs, Lucian 133 and Dorotheus,
Gorgonius and Andrew, who attended the person, possessed the favor, and
governed the household of Diocletian, protected by their powerful
influence the faith which they had embraced. Their example was imitated by
many of the most considerable officers of the palace, who, in their
respective stations, had the care of the Imperial ornaments, of the robes,
of the furniture, of the jewels, and even of the private treasury; and,
though it might sometimes be incumbent on them to accompany the emperor
when he sacrificed in the temple, 134 they enjoyed, with
their wives, their children, and their slaves, the free exercise of the
Christian religion. Diocletian and his colleagues frequently conferred the
most important offices on those persons who avowed their abhorrence for
the worship of the gods, but who had displayed abilities proper for the
service of the state. The bishops held an honorable rank in their
respective provinces, and were treated with distinction and respect, not
only by the people, but by the magistrates themselves. Almost in every
city, the ancient churches were found insufficient to contain the
increasing multitude of proselytes; and in their place more stately and
capacious edifices were erected for the public worship of the faithful.
The corruption of manners and principles, so forcibly lamented by
Eusebius, 135 may be considered, not only as a consequence,
but as a proof, of the liberty which the Christians enjoyed and abused
under the reign of Diocletian. Prosperity had relaxed the nerves of
discipline. Fraud, envy, and malice prevailed in every congregation. The
presbyters aspired to the episcopal office, which every day became an
object more worthy of their ambition. The bishops, who contended with each
other for ecclesiastical preëminence, appeared by their conduct to claim a
secular and tyrannical power in the church; and the lively faith which
still distinguished the Christians from the Gentiles, was shown much less
in their lives, than in their controversial writings.
Notwithstanding this seeming security, an attentive observer might discern
some symptoms that threatened the church with a more violent persecution
than any which she had yet endured. The zeal and rapid progress of the
Christians awakened the Polytheists from their supine indifference in the
cause of those deities, whom custom and education had taught them to
revere. The mutual provocations of a religious war, which had already
continued above two hundred years, exasperated the animosity of the
contending parties. The Pagans were incensed at the rashness of a recent
and obscure sect, which presumed to accuse their countrymen of error, and
to devote their ancestors to eternal misery. The habits of justifying the
popular mythology against the invectives of an implacable enemy, produced
in their minds some sentiments of faith and reverence for a system which
they had been accustomed to consider with the most careless levity. The
supernatural powers assumed by the church inspired at the same time terror
and emulation. The followers of the established religion intrenched
themselves behind a similar fortification of prodigies; invented new modes
of sacrifice, of expiation, and of initiation; 136 attempted to revive
the credit of their expiring oracles; 137 and listened with
eager credulity to every impostor, who flattered their prejudices by a
tale of wonders. 138 Both parties seemed to acknowledge the truth
of those miracles which were claimed by their adversaries; and while they
were contented with ascribing them to the arts of magic, and to the power
of dæmons, they mutually concurred in restoring and establishing the
reign of superstition. 139 Philosophy, her most dangerous enemy, was now
converted into her most useful ally. The groves of the academy, the
gardens of Epicurus, and even the portico of the Stoics, were almost
deserted, as so many different schools of scepticism or impiety; 140
and many among the Romans were desirous that the writings of Cicero should
be condemned and suppressed by the authority of the senate. 141
The prevailing sect of the new Platonicians judged it prudent to connect
themselves with the priests, whom perhaps they despised, against the
Christians, whom they had reason to fear. These fashionable Philosophers
prosecuted the design of extracting allegorical wisdom from the fictions
of the Greek poets; instituted mysterious rites of devotion for the use of
their chosen disciples; recommended the worship of the ancient gods as the
emblems or ministers of the Supreme Deity, and composed against the faith
of the gospel many elaborate treatises, 142 which have since been
committed to the flames by the prudence of orthodox emperors. 143
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
VI.
Although the policy of Diocletian and the humanity of Constantius inclined
them to preserve inviolate the maxims of toleration, it was soon
discovered that their two associates, Maximian and Galerius, entertained
the most implacable aversion for the name and religion of the Christians.
The minds of those princes had never been enlightened by science;
education had never softened their temper. They owed their greatness to
their swords, and in their most elevated fortune they still retained their
superstitious prejudices of soldiers and peasants. In the general
administration of the provinces they obeyed the laws which their
benefactor had established; but they frequently found occasions of
exercising within their camp and palaces a secret persecution, 144
for which the imprudent zeal of the Christians sometimes offered the most
specious pretences. A sentence of death was executed upon Maximilianus, an
African youth, who had been produced by his own father 1441
before the magistrate as a sufficient and legal recruit, but who
obstinately persisted in declaring, that his conscience would not permit
him to embrace the profession of a soldier. 145 It could scarcely be
expected that any government should suffer the action of Marcellus the
Centurion to pass with impunity. On the day of a public festival, that
officer threw away his belt, his arms, and the ensigns of his office, and
exclaimed with a loud voice, that he would obey none but Jesus Christ the
eternal King, and that he renounced forever the use of carnal weapons, and
the service of an idolatrous master. The soldiers, as soon as they
recovered from their astonishment, secured the person of Marcellus. He was
examined in the city of Tingi by the president of that part of Mauritania;
and as he was convicted by his own confession, he was condemned and
beheaded for the crime of desertion. 146 Examples of such a
nature savor much less of religious persecution than of martial or even
civil law; but they served to alienate the mind of the emperors, to
justify the severity of Galerius, who dismissed a great number of
Christian officers from their employments; and to authorize the opinion,
that a sect of enthusiastics, which avowed principles so repugnant to the
public safety, must either remain useless, or would soon become dangerous,
subjects of the empire.
After the success of the Persian war had raised the hopes and the
reputation of Galerius, he passed a winter with Diocletian in the palace
of Nicomedia; and the fate of Christianity became the object of their
secret consultations. 147 The experienced emperor was still inclined to
pursue measures of lenity; and though he readily consented to exclude the
Christians from holding any employments in the household or the army, he
urged in the strongest terms the danger as well as cruelty of shedding the
blood of those deluded fanatics. Galerius at length extorted 1471
from him the permission of summoning a council, composed of a few persons
the most distinguished in the civil and military departments of the state.
The important question was agitated in their presence, and those ambitious
courtiers easily discerned, that it was incumbent on them to second, by
their eloquence, the importunate violence of the Cæsar. It may be
presumed, that they insisted on every topic which might interest the
pride, the piety, or the fears, of their sovereign in the destruction of
Christianity. Perhaps they represented, that the glorious work of the
deliverance of the empire was left imperfect, as long as an independent
people was permitted to subsist and multiply in the heart of the
provinces. The Christians, (it might specially be alleged,) renouncing the
gods and the institutions of Rome, had constituted a distinct republic,
which might yet be suppressed before it had acquired any military force;
but which was already governed by its own laws and magistrates, was
possessed of a public treasure, and was intimately connected in all its
parts by the frequent assemblies of the bishops, to whose decrees their
numerous and opulent congregations yielded an implicit obedience.
Arguments like these may seem to have determined the reluctant mind of
Diocletian to embrace a new system of persecution; but though we may
suspect, it is not in our power to relate, the secret intrigues of the
palace, the private views and resentments, the jealousy of women or
eunuchs, and all those trifling but decisive causes which so often
influence the fate of empires, and the councils of the wisest monarchs. 148
The pleasure of the emperors was at length signified to the Christians,
who, during the course of this melancholy winter, had expected, with
anxiety, the result of so many secret consultations. The twenty-third of
February, which coincided with the Roman festival of the Terminalia, 149
was appointed (whether from accident or design) to set bounds to the
progress of Christianity. At the earliest dawn of day, the Prætorian
præfect, 150 accompanied by several generals, tribunes,
and officers of the revenue, repaired to the principal church of
Nicomedia, which was situated on an eminence in the most populous and
beautiful part of the city. The doors were instantly broke open; they
rushed into the sanctuary; and as they searched in vain for some visible
object of worship, they were obliged to content themselves with committing
to the flames the volumes of the holy Scripture. The ministers of
Diocletian were followed by a numerous body of guards and pioneers, who
marched in order of battle, and were provided with all the instruments
used in the destruction of fortified cities. By their incessant labor, a
sacred edifice, which towered above the Imperial palace, and had long
excited the indignation and envy of the Gentiles, was in a few hours
levelled with the ground. 151
The next day the general edict of persecution was published; 152
and though Diocletian, still averse to the effusion of blood, had
moderated the fury of Galerius, who proposed, that every one refusing to
offer sacrifice should immediately be burnt alive, the penalties inflicted
on the obstinacy of the Christians might be deemed sufficiently rigorous
and effectual. It was enacted, that their churches, in all the provinces
of the empire, should be demolished to their foundations; and the
punishment of death was denounced against all who should presume to hold
any secret assemblies for the purpose of religious worship. The
philosophers, who now assumed the unworthy office of directing the blind
zeal of persecution, had diligently studied the nature and genius of the
Christian religion; and as they were not ignorant that the speculative
doctrines of the faith were supposed to be contained in the writings of
the prophets, of the evangelists, and of the apostles, they most probably
suggested the order, that the bishops and presbyters should deliver all
their sacred books into the hands of the magistrates; who were commanded,
under the severest penalties, to burn them in a public and solemn manner.
By the same edict, the property of the church was at once confiscated; and
the several parts of which it might consist were either sold to the
highest bidder, united to the Imperial domain, bestowed on the cities and
corporations, or granted to the solicitations of rapacious courtiers.
After taking such effectual measures to abolish the worship, and to
dissolve the government of the Christians, it was thought necessary to
subject to the most intolerable hardships the condition of those perverse
individuals who should still reject the religion of nature, of Rome, and
of their ancestors. Persons of a liberal birth were declared incapable of
holding any honors or employments; slaves were forever deprived of the
hopes of freedom, and the whole body of the people were put out of the
protection of the law. The judges were authorized to hear and to determine
every action that was brought against a Christian. But the Christians were
not permitted to complain of any injury which they themselves had
suffered; and thus those unfortunate sectaries were exposed to the
severity, while they were excluded from the benefits, of public justice.
This new species of martyrdom, so painful and lingering, so obscure and
ignominious, was, perhaps, the most proper to weary the constancy of the
faithful: nor can it be doubted that the passions and interest of mankind
were disposed on this occasion to second the designs of the emperors. But
the policy of a well-ordered government must sometimes have interposed in
behalf of the oppressed Christians; 1521 nor was it possible
for the Roman princes entirely to remove the apprehension of punishment,
or to connive at every act of fraud and violence, without exposing their
own authority and the rest of their subjects to the most alarming dangers.
153
This edict was scarcely exhibited to the public view, in the most
conspicuous place of Nicomedia, before it was torn down by the hands of a
Christian, who expressed at the same time, by the bitterest invectives,
his contempt as well as abhorrence for such impious and tyrannical
governors. His offence, according to the mildest laws, amounted to
treason, and deserved death. And if it be true that he was a person of
rank and education, those circumstances could serve only to aggravate his
guilt. He was burnt, or rather roasted, by a slow fire; and his
executioners, zealous to revenge the personal insult which had been
offered to the emperors, exhausted every refinement of cruelty, without
being able to subdue his patience, or to alter the steady and insulting
smile which in his dying agonies he still preserved in his countenance.
The Christians, though they confessed that his conduct had not been
strictly conformable to the laws of prudence, admired the divine fervor of
his zeal; and the excessive commendations which they lavished on the
memory of their hero and martyr, contributed to fix a deep impression of
terror and hatred in the mind of Diocletian. 154
His fears were soon alarmed by the view of a danger from which he very
narrowly escaped. Within fifteen days the palace of Nicomedia, and even
the bed-chamber of Diocletian, were twice in flames; and though both times
they were extinguished without any material damage, the singular
repetition of the fire was justly considered as an evident proof that it
had not been the effect of chance or negligence. The suspicion naturally
fell on the Christians; and it was suggested, with some degree of
probability, that those desperate fanatics, provoked by their present
sufferings, and apprehensive of impending calamities, had entered into a
conspiracy with their faithful brethren, the eunuchs of the palace,
against the lives of two emperors, whom they detested as the
irreconcilable enemies of the church of God.
Jealousy and resentment prevailed in every breast, but especially in that
of Diocletian. A great number of persons, distinguished either by the
offices which they had filled, or by the favor which they had enjoyed,
were thrown into prison. Every mode of torture was put in practice, and
the court, as well as city, was polluted with many bloody executions. 155
But as it was found impossible to extort any discovery of this mysterious
transaction, it seems incumbent on us either to presume the innocence, or
to admire the resolution, of the sufferers. A few days afterwards Galerius
hastily withdrew himself from Nicomedia, declaring, that if he delayed his
departure from that devoted palace, he should fall a sacrifice to the rage
of the Christians.
The ecclesiastical historians, from whom alone we derive a partial and
imperfect knowledge of this persecution, are at a loss how to account for
the fears and dangers of the emperors. Two of these writers, a prince and
a rhetorician, were eye-witnesses of the fire of Nicomedia. The one
ascribes it to lightning, and the divine wrath; the other affirms, that it
was kindled by the malice of Galerius himself. 156
As the edict against the Christians was designed for a general law of the
whole empire, and as Diocletian and Galerius, though they might not wait
for the consent, were assured of the concurrence, of the Western princes,
it would appear more consonant to our ideas of policy, that the governors
of all the provinces should have received secret instructions to publish,
on one and the same day, this declaration of war within their respective
departments. It was at least to be expected, that the convenience of the
public highways and established posts would have enabled the emperors to
transmit their orders with the utmost despatch from the palace of
Nicomedia to the extremities of the Roman world; and that they would not
have suffered fifty days to elapse, before the edict was published in
Syria, and near four months before it was signified to the cities of
Africa. 157
This delay may perhaps be imputed to the cautious temper of Diocletian,
who had yielded a reluctant consent to the measures of persecution, and
who was desirous of trying the experiment under his more immediate eye,
before he gave way to the disorders and discontent which it must
inevitably occasion in the distant provinces. At first, indeed, the
magistrates were restrained from the effusion of blood; but the use of
every other severity was permitted, and even recommended to their zeal;
nor could the Christians, though they cheerfully resigned the ornaments of
their churches, resolve to interrupt their religious assemblies, or to
deliver their sacred books to the flames. The pious obstinacy of Felix, an
African bishop, appears to have embarrassed the subordinate ministers of
the government. The curator of his city sent him in chains to the
proconsul. The proconsul transmitted him to the Prætorian præfect of
Italy; and Felix, who disdained even to give an evasive answer, was at
length beheaded at Venusia, in Lucania, a place on which the birth of
Horace has conferred fame. 158 This precedent, and perhaps some Imperial
rescript, which was issued in consequence of it, appeared to authorize the
governors of provinces, in punishing with death the refusal of the
Christians to deliver up their sacred books. There were undoubtedly many
persons who embraced this opportunity of obtaining the crown of martyrdom;
but there were likewise too many who purchased an ignominious life, by
discovering and betraying the holy Scripture into the hands of infidels. A
great number even of bishops and presbyters acquired, by this criminal
compliance, the opprobrious epithet of Traditors; and their offence was
productive of much present scandal and of much future discord in the
African church. 159
The copies as well as the versions of Scripture, were already so
multiplied in the empire, that the most severe inquisition could no longer
be attended with any fatal consequences; and even the sacrifice of those
volumes, which, in every congregation, were preserved for public use,
required the consent of some treacherous and unworthy Christians. But the
ruin of the churches was easily effected by the authority of the
government, and by the labor of the Pagans. In some provinces, however,
the magistrates contented themselves with shutting up the places of
religious worship. In others, they more literally complied with the terms
of the edict; and after taking away the doors, the benches, and the
pulpit, which they burnt as it were in a funeral pile, they completely
demolished the remainder of the edifice. 160 It is perhaps to this
melancholy occasion that we should apply a very remarkable story, which is
related with so many circumstances of variety and improbability, that it
serves rather to excite than to satisfy our curiosity. In a small town in
Phrygia, of whose name as well as situation we are left ignorant, it
should seem that the magistrates and the body of the people had embraced
the Christian faith; and as some resistance might be apprehended to the
execution of the edict, the governor of the province was supported by a
numerous detachment of legionaries. On their approach the citizens threw
themselves into the church, with the resolution either of defending by
arms that sacred edifice, or of perishing in its ruins. They indignantly
rejected the notice and permission which was given them to retire, till
the soldiers, provoked by their obstinate refusal, set fire to the
building on all sides, and consumed, by this extraordinary kind of
martyrdom, a great number of Phrygians, with their wives and children. 161
Some slight disturbances, though they were suppressed almost as soon as
excited, in Syria and the frontiers of Armenia, afforded the enemies of
the church a very plausible occasion to insinuate, that those troubles had
been secretly fomented by the intrigues of the bishops, who had already
forgotten their ostentatious professions of passive and unlimited
obedience. 162
The resentment, or the fears, of Diocletian, at length transported him
beyond the bounds of moderation, which he had hitherto preserved, and he
declared, in a series of cruel edicts, 1621 his intention of
abolishing the Christian name. By the first of these edicts, the governors
of the provinces were directed to apprehend all persons of the
ecclesiastical order; and the prisons, destined for the vilest criminals,
were soon filled with a multitude of bishops, presbyters, deacons,
readers, and exorcists. By a second edict, the magistrates were commanded
to employ every method of severity, which might reclaim them from their
odious superstition, and oblige them to return to the established worship
of the gods. This rigorous order was extended, by a subsequent edict, to
the whole body of Christians, who were exposed to a violent and general
persecution. 163
Instead of those salutary restraints, which had required the direct and
solemn testimony of an accuser, it became the duty as well as the interest
of the Imperial officers to discover, to pursue, and to torment the most
obnoxious among the faithful. Heavy penalties were denounced against all
who should presume to save a prescribed sectary from the just indignation
of the gods, and of the emperors. Yet, notwithstanding the severity of
this law, the virtuous courage of many of the Pagans, in concealing their
friends or relations, affords an honorable proof, that the rage of
superstition had not extinguished in their minds the sentiments of nature
and humanity. 164
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
VII.
Diocletian had no sooner published his edicts against the Christians,
than, as if he had been desirous of committing to other hands the work of
persecution, he divested himself of the Imperial purple. The character and
situation of his colleagues and successors sometimes urged them to enforce
and sometimes inclined them to suspend, the execution of these rigorous
laws; nor can we acquire a just and distinct idea of this important period
of ecclesiastical history, unless we separately consider the state of
Christianity, in the different parts of the empire, during the space of
ten years, which elapsed between the first edicts of Diocletian and the
final peace of the church.
The mild and humane temper of Constantius was averse to the oppression of
any part of his subjects. The principal offices of his palace were
exercised by Christians. He loved their persons, esteemed their fidelity,
and entertained not any dislike to their religious principles. But as long
as Constantius remained in the subordinate station of Cæsar, it was not
in his power openly to reject the edicts of Diocletian, or to disobey the
commands of Maximian. His authority contributed, however, to alleviate the
sufferings which he pitied and abhorred. He consented with reluctance to
the ruin of the churches; but he ventured to protect the Christians
themselves from the fury of the populace, and from the rigor of the laws.
The provinces of Gaul (under which we may probably include those of
Britain) were indebted for the singular tranquillity which they enjoyed,
to the gentle interposition of their sovereign. 165 But Datianus, the
president or governor of Spain, actuated either by zeal or policy, chose
rather to execute the public edicts of the emperors, than to understand
the secret intentions of Constantius; and it can scarcely be doubted, that
his provincial administration was stained with the blood of a few martyrs.
166
The elevation of Constantius to the supreme and independent dignity of
Augustus, gave a free scope to the exercise of his virtues, and the
shortness of his reign did not prevent him from establishing a system of
toleration, of which he left the precept and the example to his son
Constantine. His fortunate son, from the first moment of his accession,
declaring himself the protector of the church, at length deserved the
appellation of the first emperor who publicly professed and established
the Christian religion. The motives of his conversion, as they may
variously be deduced from benevolence, from policy, from conviction, or
from remorse, and the progress of the revolution, which, under his
powerful influence and that of his sons, rendered Christianity the
reigning religion of the Roman empire, will form a very interesting and
important chapter in the present volume of this history. At present it may
be sufficient to observe, that every victory of Constantine was productive
of some relief or benefit to the church.
The provinces of Italy and Africa experienced a short but violent
persecution. The rigorous edicts of Diocletian were strictly and
cheerfully executed by his associate Maximian, who had long hated the
Christians, and who delighted in acts of blood and violence. In the autumn
of the first year of the persecution, the two emperors met at Rome to
celebrate their triumph; several oppressive laws appear to have issued
from their secret consultations, and the diligence of the magistrates was
animated by the presence of their sovereigns. After Diocletian had
divested himself of the purple, Italy and Africa were administered under
the name of Severus, and were exposed, without defence, to the implacable
resentment of his master Galerius. Among the martyrs of Rome, Adauctus
deserves the notice of posterity. He was of a noble family in Italy, and
had raised himself, through the successive honors of the palace, to the
important office of treasurer of the private Jemesnes. Adauctus is the
more remarkable for being the only person of rank and distinction who
appears to have suffered death, during the whole course of this general
persecution. 167
The revolt of Maxentius immediately restored peace to the churches of
Italy and Africa; and the same tyrant who oppressed every other class of
his subjects, showed himself just, humane, and even partial, towards the
afflicted Christians. He depended on their gratitude and affection, and
very naturally presumed, that the injuries which they had suffered, and
the dangers which they still apprehended from his most inveterate enemy,
would secure the fidelity of a party already considerable by their numbers
and opulence. 168 Even the conduct of Maxentius towards the
bishops of Rome and Carthage may be considered as the proof of his
toleration, since it is probable that the most orthodox princes would
adopt the same measures with regard to their established clergy.
Marcellus, the former of these prelates, had thrown the capital into
confusion, by the severe penance which he imposed on a great number of
Christians, who, during the late persecution, had renounced or dissembled
their religion. The rage of faction broke out in frequent and violent
seditions; the blood of the faithful was shed by each other’s hands, and
the exile of Marcellus, whose prudence seems to have been less eminent
than his zeal, was found to be the only measure capable of restoring peace
to the distracted church of Rome. 169 The behavior of
Mensurius, bishop of Carthage, appears to have been still more
reprehensible. A deacon of that city had published a libel against the
emperor. The offender took refuge in the episcopal palace; and though it
was somewhat early to advance any claims of ecclesiastical immunities, the
bishop refused to deliver him up to the officers of justice. For this
treasonable resistance, Mensurius was summoned to court, and instead of
receiving a legal sentence of death or banishment, he was permitted, after
a short examination, to return to his diocese. 170 Such was the happy
condition of the Christian subjects of Maxentius, that whenever they were
desirous of procuring for their own use any bodies of martyrs, they were
obliged to purchase them from the most distant provinces of the East. A
story is related of Aglae, a Roman lady, descended from a consular family,
and possessed of so ample an estate, that it required the management of
seventy-three stewards. Among these Boniface was the favorite of his
mistress; and as Aglae mixed love with devotion, it is reported that he
was admitted to share her bed. Her fortune enabled her to gratify the
pious desire of obtaining some sacred relics from the East. She intrusted
Boniface with a considerable sum of gold, and a large quantity of
aromatics; and her lover, attended by twelve horsemen and three covered
chariots, undertook a remote pilgrimage, as far as Tarsus in Cilicia. 171
The sanguinary temper of Galerius, the first and principal author of the
persecution, was formidable to those Christians whom their misfortunes had
placed within the limits of his dominions; and it may fairly be presumed
that many persons of a middle rank, who were not confined by the chains
either of wealth or of poverty, very frequently deserted their native
country, and sought a refuge in the milder climate of the West. 1711
As long as he commanded only the armies and provinces of Illyricum, he
could with difficulty either find or make a considerable number of
martyrs, in a warlike country, which had entertained the missionaries of
the gospel with more coldness and reluctance than any other part of the
empire. 172
But when Galerius had obtained the supreme power, and the government of
the East, he indulged in their fullest extent his zeal and cruelty, not
only in the provinces of Thrace and Asia, which acknowledged his immediate
jurisdiction, but in those of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, where Maximin
gratified his own inclination, by yielding a rigorous obedience to the
stern commands of his benefactor. 173 The frequent
disappointments of his ambitious views, the experience of six years of
persecution, and the salutary reflections which a lingering and painful
distemper suggested to the mind of Galerius, at length convinced him that
the most violent efforts of despotism are insufficient to extirpate a
whole people, or to subdue their religious prejudices. Desirous of
repairing the mischief that he had occasioned, he published in his own
name, and in those of Licinius and Constantine, a general edict, which,
after a pompous recital of the Imperial titles, proceeded in the following
manner:—
When Galerius subscribed this edict of toleration, he was well assured
that Licinius would readily comply with the inclinations of his friend and
benefactor, and that any measures in favor of the Christians would obtain
the approbation of Constantine. But the emperor would not venture to
insert in the preamble the name of Maximin, whose consent was of the
greatest importance, and who succeeded a few days afterwards to the
provinces of Asia. In the first six months, however, of his new reign,
Maximin affected to adopt the prudent counsels of his predecessor; and
though he never condescended to secure the tranquillity of the church by a
public edict, Sabinus, his Prætorian præfect, addressed a circular
letter to all the governors and magistrates of the provinces, expatiating
on the Imperial clemency, acknowledging the invincible obstinacy of the
Christians, and directing the officers of justice to cease their
ineffectual prosecutions, and to connive at the secret assemblies of those
enthusiasts. In consequence of these orders, great numbers of Christians
were released from prison, or delivered from the mines. The confessors,
singing hymns of triumph, returned into their own countries; and those who
had yielded to the violence of the tempest, solicited with tears of
repentance their readmission into the bosom of the church. 175
But this treacherous calm was of short duration; nor could the Christians
of the East place any confidence in the character of their sovereign.
Cruelty and superstition were the ruling passions of the soul of Maximin.
The former suggested the means, the latter pointed out the objects of
persecution. The emperor was devoted to the worship of the gods, to the
study of magic, and to the belief of oracles. The prophets or
philosophers, whom he revered as the favorites of Heaven, were frequently
raised to the government of provinces, and admitted into his most secret
councils. They easily convinced him that the Christians had been indebted
for their victories to their regular discipline, and that the weakness of
polytheism had principally flowed from a want of union and subordination
among the ministers of religion. A system of government was therefore
instituted, which was evidently copied from the policy of the church. In
all the great cities of the empire, the temples were repaired and
beautified by the order of Maximin, and the officiating priests of the
various deities were subjected to the authority of a superior pontiff
destined to oppose the bishop, and to promote the cause of paganism. These
pontiffs acknowledged, in their turn, the supreme jurisdiction of the
metropolitans or high priests of the province, who acted as the immediate
vicegerents of the emperor himself. A white robe was the ensign of their
dignity; and these new prelates were carefully selected from the most
noble and opulent families. By the influence of the magistrates, and of
the sacerdotal order, a great number of dutiful addresses were obtained,
particularly from the cities of Nicomedia, Antioch, and Tyre, which
artfully represented the well-known intentions of the court as the general
sense of the people; solicited the emperor to consult the laws of justice
rather than the dictates of his clemency; expressed their abhorrence of
the Christians, and humbly prayed that those impious sectaries might at
least be excluded from the limits of their respective territories. The
answer of Maximin to the address which he obtained from the citizens of
Tyre is still extant. He praises their zeal and devotion in terms of the
highest satisfaction, descants on the obstinate impiety of the Christians,
and betrays, by the readiness with which he consents to their banishment,
that he considered himself as receiving, rather than as conferring, an
obligation. The priests as well as the magistrates were empowered to
enforce the execution of his edicts, which were engraved on tables of
brass; and though it was recommended to them to avoid the effusion of
blood, the most cruel and ignominious punishments were inflicted on the
refractory Christians. 176
The Asiatic Christians had every thing to dread from the severity of a
bigoted monarch who prepared his measures of violence with such deliberate
policy. But a few months had scarcely elapsed before the edicts published
by the two Western emperors obliged Maximin to suspend the prosecution of
his designs: the civil war which he so rashly undertook against Licinius
employed all his attention; and the defeat and death of Maximin soon
delivered the church from the last and most implacable of her enemies. 177
In this general view of the persecution, which was first authorized by the
edicts of Diocletian, I have purposely refrained from describing the
particular sufferings and deaths of the Christian martyrs. It would have
been an easy task, from the history of Eusebius, from the declamations of
Lactantius, and from the most ancient acts, to collect a long series of
horrid and disgustful pictures, and to fill many pages with racks and
scourges, with iron hooks and red-hot beds, and with all the variety of
tortures which fire and steel, savage beasts, and more savage
executioners, could inflict upon the human body. These melancholy scenes
might be enlivened by a crowd of visions and miracles destined either to
delay the death, to celebrate the triumph, or to discover the relics of
those canonized saints who suffered for the name of Christ. But I cannot
determine what I ought to transcribe, till I am satisfied how much I ought
to believe. The gravest of the ecclesiastical historians, Eusebius
himself, indirectly confesses, that he has related whatever might redound
to the glory, and that he has suppressed all that could tend to the
disgrace, of religion. 178 Such an acknowledgment will naturally excite
a suspicion that a writer who has so openly violated one of the
fundamental laws of history, has not paid a very strict regard to the
observance of the other; and the suspicion will derive additional credit
from the character of Eusebius, 1781 which was less
tinctured with credulity, and more practised in the arts of courts, than
that of almost any of his contemporaries. On some particular occasions,
when the magistrates were exasperated by some personal motives of interest
or resentment, the rules of prudence, and perhaps of decency, to overturn
the altars, to pour out imprecations against the emperors, or to strike
the judge as he sat on his tribunal, it may be presumed, that every mode
of torture which cruelty could invent, or constancy could endure, was
exhausted on those devoted victims. 179 Two circumstances,
however, have been unwarily mentioned, which insinuate that the general
treatment of the Christians, who had been apprehended by the officers of
justice, was less intolerable than it is usually imagined to have been. 1.
The confessors who were condemned to work in the mines were permitted by
the humanity or the negligence of their keepers to build chapels, and
freely to profess their religion in the midst of those dreary habitations.
180
2. The bishops were obliged to check and to censure the forward zeal of
the Christians, who voluntarily threw themselves into the hands of the
magistrates. Some of these were persons oppressed by poverty and debts,
who blindly sought to terminate a miserable existence by a glorious death.
Others were allured by the hope that a short confinement would expiate the
sins of a whole life; and others again were actuated by the less honorable
motive of deriving a plentiful subsistence, and perhaps a considerable
profit, from the alms which the charity of the faithful bestowed on the
prisoners. 181 After the church had triumphed over all her
enemies, the interest as well as vanity of the captives prompted them to
magnify the merit of their respective sufferings. A convenient distance of
time or place gave an ample scope to the progress of fiction; and the
frequent instances which might be alleged of holy martyrs, whose wounds
had been instantly healed, whose strength had been renewed, and whose lost
members had miraculously been restored, were extremely convenient for the
purpose of removing every difficulty, and of silencing every objection.
The most extravagant legends, as they conduced to the honor of the church,
were applauded by the credulous multitude, countenanced by the power of
the clergy, and attested by the suspicious evidence of ecclesiastical
history.
Chapter XVI: Conduct Towards The Christians, From Nero To Constantine.—Part
VIII.
The vague descriptions of exile and imprisonment, of pain and torture, are
so easily exaggerated or softened by the pencil of an artful orator, 1811
that we are naturally induced to inquire into a fact of a more distinct
and stubborn kind; the number of persons who suffered death in consequence
of the edicts published by Diocletian, his associates, and his successors.
The recent legendaries record whole armies and cities, which were at once
swept away by the undistinguishing rage of persecution. The more ancient
writers content themselves with pouring out a liberal effusion of loose
and tragical invectives, without condescending to ascertain the precise
number of those persons who were permitted to seal with their blood their
belief of the gospel. From the history of Eusebius, it may, however, be
collected, that only nine bishops were punished with death; and we are
assured, by his particular enumeration of the martyrs of Palestine, 182
that no more than ninety-two Christians were entitled to that honorable
appellation. 1821 As we are unacquainted with the degree of
episcopal zeal and courage which prevailed at that time, it is not in our
power to draw any useful inferences from the former of these facts: but
the latter may serve to justify a very important and probable conclusion.
According to the distribution of Roman provinces, Palestine may be
considered as the sixteenth part of the Eastern empire: 183
and since there were some governors, who from a real or affected clemency
had preserved their hands unstained with the blood of the faithful, 184
it is reasonable to believe, that the country which had given birth to
Christianity, produced at least the sixteenth part of the martyrs who
suffered death within the dominions of Galerius and Maximin; the whole
might consequently amount to about fifteen hundred, a number which, if it
is equally divided between the ten years of the persecution, will allow an
annual consumption of one hundred and fifty martyrs. Allotting the same
proportion to the provinces of Italy, Africa, and perhaps Spain, where, at
the end of two or three years, the rigor of the penal laws was either
suspended or abolished, the multitude of Christians in the Roman empire,
on whom a capital punishment was inflicted by a judicia, sentence, will be
reduced to somewhat less than two thousand persons. Since it cannot be
doubted that the Christians were more numerous, and their enemies more
exasperated, in the time of Diocletian, than they had ever been in any
former persecution, this probable and moderate computation may teach us to
estimate the number of primitive saints and martyrs who sacrificed their
lives for the important purpose of introducing Christianity into the
world.
We shall conclude this chapter by a melancholy truth, which obtrudes
itself on the reluctant mind; that even admitting, without hesitation or
inquiry, all that history has recorded, or devotion has feigned, on the
subject of martyrdoms, it must still be acknowledged, that the Christians,
in the course of their intestine dissensions, have inflicted far greater
severities on each other, than they had experienced from the zeal of
infidels. During the ages of ignorance which followed the subversion of
the Roman empire in the West, the bishops of the Imperial city extended
their dominion over the laity as well as clergy of the Latin church. The
fabric of superstition which they had erected, and which might long have
defied the feeble efforts of reason, was at length assaulted by a crowd of
daring fanatics, who from the twelfth to the sixteenth century assumed the
popular character of reformers. The church of Rome defended by violence
the empire which she had acquired by fraud; a system of peace and
benevolence was soon disgraced by proscriptions, war, massacres, and the
institution of the holy office. And as the reformers were animated by the
love of civil as well as of religious freedom, the Catholic princes
connected their own interest with that of the clergy, and enforced by fire
and the sword the terrors of spiritual censures. In the Netherlands alone,
more than one hundred thousand of the subjects of Charles V. are said to
have suffered by the hand of the executioner; and this extraordinary
number is attested by Grotius, 185 a man of genius and
learning, who preserved his moderation amidst the fury of contending
sects, and who composed the annals of his own age and country, at a time
when the invention of printing had facilitated the means of intelligence,
and increased the danger of detection.
If we are obliged to submit our belief to the authority of Grotius, it
must be allowed, that the number of Protestants, who were executed in a
single province and a single reign, far exceeded that of the primitive
martyrs in the space of three centuries, and of the Roman empire. But if
the improbability of the fact itself should prevail over the weight of
evidence; if Grotius should be convicted of exaggerating the merit and
sufferings of the Reformers; 186 we shall be naturally led to inquire what
confidence can be placed in the doubtful and imperfect monuments of
ancient credulity; what degree of credit can be assigned to a courtly
bishop, and a passionate declaimer, 1861 who, under the
protection of Constantine, enjoyed the exclusive privilege of recording
the persecutions inflicted on the Christians by the vanquished rivals or
disregarded predecessors of their gracious sovereign.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part I.
Foundation Of Constantinople.—Political System Constantine,
And His Successors.—Military Discipline.—The Palace.—The
Finances.
The unfortunate Licinius was the last rival who opposed the greatness, and
the last captive who adorned the triumph, of Constantine. After a tranquil
and prosperous reign, the conquerer bequeathed to his family the
inheritance of the Roman empire; a new capital, a new policy, and a new
religion; and the innovations which he established have been embraced and
consecrated by succeeding generations. The age of the great Constantine
and his sons is filled with important events; but the historian must be
oppressed by their number and variety, unless he diligently separates from
each other the scenes which are connected only by the order of time. He
will describe the political institutions that gave strength and stability
to the empire, before he proceeds to relate the wars and revolutions which
hastened its decline. He will adopt the division unknown to the ancients
of civil and ecclesiastical affairs: the victory of the Christians, and
their intestine discord, will supply copious and distinct materials both
for edification and for scandal.
After the defeat and abdication of Licinius, his victorious rival
proceeded to lay the foundations of a city destined to reign in future
times, the mistress of the East, and to survive the empire and religion
of Constantine. The motives, whether of pride or of policy, which first
induced Diocletian to withdraw himself from the ancient seat of
government, had acquired additional weight by the example of his
successors, and the habits of forty years. Rome was insensibly confounded
with the dependent kingdoms which had once acknowledged her supremacy;
and the country of the Cæsars was viewed with cold indifference by a
martial prince, born in the neighborhood of the Danube, educated in the
courts and armies of Asia, and invested with the purple by the legions of
Britain. The Italians, who had received Constantine as their deliverer,
submissively obeyed the edicts which he sometimes condescended to address
to the senate and people of Rome; but they were seldom honored with the
presence of their new sovereign. During the vigor of his age,
Constantine, according to the various exigencies of peace and war, moved
with slow dignity, or with active diligence, along the frontiers of his
extensive dominions; and was always prepared to take the field either
against a foreign or a domestic enemy. But as he gradually reached the
summit of prosperity and the decline of life, he began to meditate the
design of fixing in a more permanent station the strength as well as
majesty of the throne. In the choice of an advantageous situation, he
preferred the confines of Europe and Asia; to curb with a powerful arm
the barbarians who dwelt between the Danube and the Tanais; to watch with
an eye of jealousy the conduct of the Persian monarch, who indignantly
supported the yoke of an ignominious treaty. With these views, Diocletian
had selected and embellished the residence of Nicomedia: but the memory
of Diocletian was justly abhorred by the protector of the church: and
Constantine was not insensible to the ambition of founding a city which
might perpetuate the glory of his own name. During the late operations of
the war against Licinius, he had sufficient opportunity to contemplate,
both as a soldier and as a statesman, the incomparable position of
Byzantium; and to observe how strongly it was guarded by nature against a
hostile attack, whilst it was accessible on every side to the benefits of
commercial intercourse. Many ages before Constantine, one of the most
judicious historians of antiquity1 had described the
advantages of a situation, from whence a feeble colony of Greeks derived
the command of the sea, and the honors of a flourishing and independent
republic. 2
If we survey Byzantium in the extent which it acquired with the august
name of Constantinople, the figure of the Imperial city may be represented
under that of an unequal triangle. The obtuse point, which advances
towards the east and the shores of Asia, meets and repels the waves of the
Thracian Bosphorus. The northern side of the city is bounded by the
harbor; and the southern is washed by the Propontis, or Sea of Marmara.
The basis of the triangle is opposed to the west, and terminates the
continent of Europe. But the admirable form and division of the
circumjacent land and water cannot, without a more ample explanation, be
clearly or sufficiently understood. The winding channel through which the
waters of the Euxine flow with a rapid and incessant course towards the
Mediterranean, received the appellation of Bosphorus, a name not less
celebrated in the history, than in the fables, of antiquity. 3 A
crowd of temples and of votive altars, profusely scattered along its steep
and woody banks, attested the unskilfulness, the terrors, and the devotion
of the Grecian navigators, who, after the example of the Argonauts,
explored the dangers of the inhospitable Euxine. On these banks tradition
long preserved the memory of the palace of Phineus, infested by the
obscene harpies; 4 and of the sylvan reign of Amycus, who defied
the son of Leda to the combat of the cestus. 5 The straits of the
Bosphorus are terminated by the Cyanean rocks, which, according to the
description of the poets, had once floated on the face of the waters; and
were destined by the gods to protect the entrance of the Euxine against
the eye of profane curiosity. 6 From the Cyanean rocks
to the point and harbor of Byzantium, the winding length of the Bosphorus
extends about sixteen miles, 7 and its most ordinary breadth may be computed
at about one mile and a half. The new castles of Europe and Asia are
constructed, on either continent, upon the foundations of two celebrated
temples, of Serapis and of Jupiter Urius. The old castles, a work of the
Greek emperors, command the narrowest part of the channel in a place where
the opposite banks advance within five hundred paces of each other. These
fortresses were destroyed and strengthened by Mahomet the Second, when he
meditated the siege of Constantinople: 8 but the Turkish
conqueror was most probably ignorant, that near two thousand years before
his reign, Darius had chosen the same situation to connect the two
continents by a bridge of boats. 9 At a small distance from
the old castles we discover the little town of Chrysopolis, or Scutari,
which may almost be considered as the Asiatic suburb of Constantinople.
The Bosphorus, as it begins to open into the Propontis, passes between
Byzantium and Chalcedon. The latter of those cities was built by the
Greeks, a few years before the former; and the blindness of its founders,
who overlooked the superior advantages of the opposite coast, has been
stigmatized by a proverbial expression of contempt. 10
The harbor of Constantinople, which may be considered as an arm of the
Bosphorus, obtained, in a very remote period, the denomination of the
Golden Horn. The curve which it describes might be compared to the horn of
a stag, or as it should seem, with more propriety, to that of an ox. 11
The epithet of golden was expressive of the riches which every wind wafted
from the most distant countries into the secure and capacious port of
Constantinople. The River Lycus, formed by the conflux of two little
streams, pours into the harbor a perpetual supply of fresh water, which
serves to cleanse the bottom, and to invite the periodical shoals of fish
to seek their retreat in that convenient recess. As the vicissitudes of
tides are scarcely felt in those seas, the constant depth of the harbor
allows goods to be landed on the quays without the assistance of boats;
and it has been observed, that in many places the largest vessels may rest
their prows against the houses, while their sterns are floating in the
water. 12 From the mouth of the Lycus to that of the
harbor, this arm of the Bosphorus is more than seven miles in length. The
entrance is about five hundred yards broad, and a strong chain could be
occasionally drawn across it, to guard the port and city from the attack
of a hostile navy. 13
Between the Bosphorus and the Hellespont, the shores of Europe and Asia,
receding on either side, enclose the sea of Marmara, which was known to
the ancients by the denomination of Propontis. The navigation from the
issue of the Bosphorus to the entrance of the Hellespont is about one
hundred and twenty miles.
Those who steer their westward course through the middle of the Propontis,
may at once descry the high lands of Thrace and Bithynia, and never lose
sight of the lofty summit of Mount Olympus, covered with eternal snows. 14
They leave on the left a deep gulf, at the bottom of which Nicomedia was
seated, the Imperial residence of Diocletian; and they pass the small
islands of Cyzicus and Proconnesus before they cast anchor at Gallipoli;
where the sea, which separates Asia from Europe, is again contracted into
a narrow channel.
The geographers who, with the most skilful accuracy, have surveyed the
form and extent of the Hellespont, assign about sixty miles for the
winding course, and about three miles for the ordinary breadth of those
celebrated straits. 15 But the narrowest part of the channel is
found to the northward of the old Turkish castles between the cities of
Sestus and Abydus. It was here that the adventurous Leander braved the
passage of the flood for the possession of his mistress. 16
It was here likewise, in a place where the distance between the opposite
banks cannot exceed five hundred paces, that Xerxes imposed a stupendous
bridge of boats, for the purpose of transporting into Europe a hundred and
seventy myriads of barbarians. 17 A sea contracted
within such narrow limits may seem but ill to deserve the singular epithet
of broad, which Homer, as well as Orpheus, has frequently bestowed on the
Hellespont. 1711 But our ideas of greatness are of a
relative nature: the traveller, and especially the poet, who sailed along
the Hellespont, who pursued the windings of the stream, and contemplated
the rural scenery, which appeared on every side to terminate the prospect,
insensibly lost the remembrance of the sea; and his fancy painted those
celebrated straits, with all the attributes of a mighty river flowing with
a swift current, in the midst of a woody and inland country, and at
length, through a wide mouth, discharging itself into the Ægean or
Archipelago. 18 Ancient Troy, 19 seated on a an
eminence at the foot of Mount Ida, overlooked the mouth of the Hellespont,
which scarcely received an accession of waters from the tribute of those
immortal rivulets the Simois and Scamander. The Grecian camp had stretched
twelve miles along the shore from the Sigæan to the Rhætean promontory;
and the flanks of the army were guarded by the bravest chiefs who fought
under the banners of Agamemnon. The first of those promontories was
occupied by Achilles with his invincible myrmidons, and the dauntless Ajax
pitched his tents on the other. After Ajax had fallen a sacrifice to his
disappointed pride, and to the ingratitude of the Greeks, his sepulchre
was erected on the ground where he had defended the navy against the rage
of Jove and of Hector; and the citizens of the rising town of Rhæteum
celebrated his memory with divine honors. 20 Before Constantine
gave a just preference to the situation of Byzantium, he had conceived the
design of erecting the seat of empire on this celebrated spot, from whence
the Romans derived their fabulous origin. The extensive plain which lies
below ancient Troy, towards the Rhætean promontory and the tomb of Ajax,
was first chosen for his new capital; and though the undertaking was soon
relinquished the stately remains of unfinished walls and towers attracted
the notice of all who sailed through the straits of the Hellespont. 21
We are at present qualified to view the advantageous position of
Constantinople; which appears to have been formed by nature for the centre
and capital of a great monarchy. Situated in the forty-first degree of
latitude, the Imperial city commanded, from her seven hills, 22
the opposite shores of Europe and Asia; the climate was healthy and
temperate, the soil fertile, the harbor secure and capacious; and the
approach on the side of the continent was of small extent and easy
defence. The Bosphorus and the Hellespont may be considered as the two
gates of Constantinople; and the prince who possessed those important
passages could always shut them against a naval enemy, and open them to
the fleets of commerce. The preservation of the eastern provinces may, in
some degree, be ascribed to the policy of Constantine, as the barbarians
of the Euxine, who in the preceding age had poured their armaments into
the heart of the Mediterranean, soon desisted from the exercise of piracy,
and despaired of forcing this insurmountable barrier. When the gates of
the Hellespont and Bosphorus were shut, the capital still enjoyed within
their spacious enclosure every production which could supply the wants, or
gratify the luxury, of its numerous inhabitants. The sea-coasts of Thrace
and Bithynia, which languish under the weight of Turkish oppression, still
exhibit a rich prospect of vineyards, of gardens, and of plentiful
harvests; and the Propontis has ever been renowned for an inexhaustible
store of the most exquisite fish, that are taken in their stated seasons,
without skill, and almost without labor. 23 But when the passages
of the straits were thrown open for trade, they alternately admitted the
natural and artificial riches of the north and south, of the Euxine, and
of the Mediterranean. Whatever rude commodities were collected in the
forests of Germany and Scythia, and far as the sources of the Tanais and
the Borysthenes; whatsoever was manufactured by the skill of Europe or
Asia; the corn of Egypt, and the gems and spices of the farthest India,
were brought by the varying winds into the port of Constantinople, which
for many ages attracted the commerce of the ancient world. 24
[See Basilica Of Constantinople]
The prospect of beauty, of safety, and of wealth, united in a single spot,
was sufficient to justify the choice of Constantine. But as some decent
mixture of prodigy and fable has, in every age, been supposed to reflect a
becoming majesty on the origin of great cities, 25 the emperor was
desirous of ascribing his resolution, not so much to the uncertain
counsels of human policy, as to the infallible and eternal decrees of
divine wisdom. In one of his laws he has been careful to instruct
posterity, that in obedience to the commands of God, he laid the
everlasting foundations of Constantinople: 26 and though he has not
condescended to relate in what manner the celestial inspiration was
communicated to his mind, the defect of his modest silence has been
liberally supplied by the ingenuity of succeeding writers; who describe
the nocturnal vision which appeared to the fancy of Constantine, as he
slept within the walls of Byzantium. The tutelar genius of the city, a
venerable matron sinking under the weight of years and infirmities, was
suddenly transformed into a blooming maid, whom his own hands adorned with
all the symbols of Imperial greatness. 27 The monarch awoke,
interpreted the auspicious omen, and obeyed, without hesitation, the will
of Heaven. The day which gave birth to a city or colony was celebrated by
the Romans with such ceremonies as had been ordained by a generous
superstition; 28 and though Constantine might omit some rites
which savored too strongly of their Pagan origin, yet he was anxious to
leave a deep impression of hope and respect on the minds of the
spectators. On foot, with a lance in his hand, the emperor himself led the
solemn procession; and directed the line, which was traced as the boundary
of the destined capital: till the growing circumference was observed with
astonishment by the assistants, who, at length, ventured to observe, that
he had already exceeded the most ample measure of a great city. “I shall
still advance,” replied Constantine, “till He, the invisible guide who
marches before me, thinks proper to stop.” 29 Without presuming to
investigate the nature or motives of this extraordinary conductor, we
shall content ourselves with the more humble task of describing the extent
and limits of Constantinople. 30
In the actual state of the city, the palace and gardens of the Seraglio
occupy the eastern promontory, the first of the seven hills, and cover
about one hundred and fifty acres of our own measure. The seat of Turkish
jealousy and despotism is erected on the foundations of a Grecian
republic; but it may be supposed that the Byzantines were tempted by the
conveniency of the harbor to extend their habitations on that side beyond
the modern limits of the Seraglio. The new walls of Constantine stretched
from the port to the Propontis across the enlarged breadth of the
triangle, at the distance of fifteen stadia from the ancient
fortification; and with the city of Byzantium they enclosed five of the
seven hills, which, to the eyes of those who approach Constantinople,
appear to rise above each other in beautiful order. 31
About a century after the death of the founder, the new buildings,
extending on one side up the harbor, and on the other along the Propontis,
already covered the narrow ridge of the sixth, and the broad summit of the
seventh hill. The necessity of protecting those suburbs from the incessant
inroads of the barbarians engaged the younger Theodosius to surround his
capital with an adequate and permanent enclosure of walls. 32
From the eastern promontory to the golden gate, the extreme length of
Constantinople was about three Roman miles; 33 the circumference
measured between ten and eleven; and the surface might be computed as
equal to about two thousand English acres. It is impossible to justify the
vain and credulous exaggerations of modern travellers, who have sometimes
stretched the limits of Constantinople over the adjacent villages of the
European, and even of the Asiatic coast. 34 But the suburbs of
Pera and Galata, though situate beyond the harbor, may deserve to be
considered as a part of the city; 35 and this addition may
perhaps authorize the measure of a Byzantine historian, who assigns
sixteen Greek (about fourteen Roman) miles for the circumference of his
native city. 36 Such an extent may not seem unworthy of an
Imperial residence. Yet Constantinople must yield to Babylon and Thebes,
37
to ancient Rome, to London, and even to Paris. 38
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part II.
The master of the Roman world, who aspired to erect an eternal monument of
the glories of his reign could employ in the prosecution of that great
work, the wealth, the labor, and all that yet remained of the genius of
obedient millions. Some estimate may be formed of the expense bestowed
with Imperial liberality on the foundation of Constantinople, by the
allowance of about two millions five hundred thousand pounds for the
construction of the walls, the porticos, and the aqueducts. 39
The forests that overshadowed the shores of the Euxine, and the celebrated
quarries of white marble in the little island of Proconnesus, supplied an
inexhaustible stock of materials, ready to be conveyed, by the convenience
of a short water carriage, to the harbor of Byzantium. 40
A multitude of laborers and artificers urged the conclusion of the work
with incessant toil: but the impatience of Constantine soon discovered,
that, in the decline of the arts, the skill as well as numbers of his
architects bore a very unequal proportion to the greatness of his designs.
The magistrates of the most distant provinces were therefore directed to
institute schools, to appoint professors, and by the hopes of rewards and
privileges, to engage in the study and practice of architecture a
sufficient number of ingenious youths, who had received a liberal
education. 41 The buildings of the new city were executed
by such artificers as the reign of Constantine could afford; but they were
decorated by the hands of the most celebrated masters of the age of
Pericles and Alexander. To revive the genius of Phidias and Lysippus,
surpassed indeed the power of a Roman emperor; but the immortal
productions which they had bequeathed to posterity were exposed without
defence to the rapacious vanity of a despot. By his commands the cities of
Greece and Asia were despoiled of their most valuable ornaments. 42
The trophies of memorable wars, the objects of religious veneration, the
most finished statues of the gods and heroes, of the sages and poets, of
ancient times, contributed to the splendid triumph of Constantinople; and
gave occasion to the remark of the historian Cedrenus, 43
who observes, with some enthusiasm, that nothing seemed wanting except the
souls of the illustrious men whom these admirable monuments were intended
to represent. But it is not in the city of Constantine, nor in the
declining period of an empire, when the human mind was depressed by civil
and religious slavery, that we should seek for the souls of Homer and of
Demosthenes.
During the siege of Byzantium, the conqueror had pitched his tent on the
commanding eminence of the second hill. To perpetuate the memory of his
success, he chose the same advantageous position for the principal Forum;
44
which appears to have been of a circular, or rather elliptical form. The
two opposite entrances formed triumphal arches; the porticos, which
enclosed it on every side, were filled with statues; and the centre of the
Forum was occupied by a lofty column, of which a mutilated fragment is now
degraded by the appellation of the burnt pillar. This column was erected
on a pedestal of white marble twenty feet high; and was composed of ten
pieces of porphyry, each of which measured about ten feet in height, and
about thirty-three in circumference. 45 On the summit of the
pillar, above one hundred and twenty feet from the ground, stood the
colossal statue of Apollo. It was a bronze, had been transported either
from Athens or from a town of Phrygia, and was supposed to be the work of
Phidias. The artist had represented the god of day, or, as it was
afterwards interpreted, the emperor Constantine himself, with a sceptre in
his right hand, the globe of the world in his left, and a crown of rays
glittering on his head. 46 The Circus, or Hippodrome, was a stately
building about four hundred paces in length, and one hundred in breadth.
47
The space between the two metæ or goals were filled with statues and
obelisks; and we may still remark a very singular fragment of antiquity;
the bodies of three serpents, twisted into one pillar of brass. Their
triple heads had once supported the golden tripod which, after the defeat
of Xerxes, was consecrated in the temple of Delphi by the victorious
Greeks. 48 The beauty of the Hippodrome has been long
since defaced by the rude hands of the Turkish conquerors; 4811
but, under the similar appellation of Atmeidan, it still serves as a place
of exercise for their horses. From the throne, whence the emperor viewed
the Circensian games, a winding staircase 49 descended to the
palace; a magnificent edifice, which scarcely yielded to the residence of
Rome itself, and which, together with the dependent courts, gardens, and
porticos, covered a considerable extent of ground upon the banks of the
Propontis between the Hippodrome and the church of St. Sophia. 50
We might likewise celebrate the baths, which still retained the name of
Zeuxippus, after they had been enriched, by the munificence of
Constantine, with lofty columns, various marbles, and above threescore
statues of bronze. 51 But we should deviate from the design of this
history, if we attempted minutely to describe the different buildings or
quarters of the city. It may be sufficient to observe, that whatever could
adorn the dignity of a great capital, or contribute to the benefit or
pleasure of its numerous inhabitants, was contained within the walls of
Constantinople. A particular description, composed about a century after
its foundation, enumerates a capitol or school of learning, a circus, two
theatres, eight public, and one hundred and fifty-three private baths,
fifty-two porticos, five granaries, eight aqueducts or reservoirs of
water, four spacious halls for the meetings of the senate or courts of
justice, fourteen churches, fourteen palaces, and four thousand three
hundred and eighty-eight houses, which, for their size or beauty, deserved
to be distinguished from the multitude of plebeian inhabitants. 52
The populousness of his favored city was the next and most serious object
of the attention of its founder. In the dark ages which succeeded the
translation of the empire, the remote and the immediate consequences of
that memorable event were strangely confounded by the vanity of the Greeks
and the credulity of the Latins. 53 It was asserted, and
believed, that all the noble families of Rome, the senate, and the
equestrian order, with their innumerable attendants, had followed their
emperor to the banks of the Propontis; that a spurious race of strangers
and plebeians was left to possess the solitude of the ancient capital; and
that the lands of Italy, long since converted into gardens, were at once
deprived of cultivation and inhabitants. 54 In the course of this
history, such exaggerations will be reduced to their just value: yet,
since the growth of Constantinople cannot be ascribed to the general
increase of mankind and of industry, it must be admitted that this
artificial colony was raised at the expense of the ancient cities of the
empire. Many opulent senators of Rome, and of the eastern provinces, were
probably invited by Constantine to adopt for their country the fortunate
spot, which he had chosen for his own residence. The invitations of a
master are scarcely to be distinguished from commands; and the liberality
of the emperor obtained a ready and cheerful obedience. He bestowed on his
favorites the palaces which he had built in the several quarters of the
city, assigned them lands and pensions for the support of their dignity,
55
and alienated the demesnes of Pontus and Asia to grant hereditary estates
by the easy tenure of maintaining a house in the capital. 56
But these encouragements and obligations soon became superfluous, and were
gradually abolished. Wherever the seat of government is fixed, a
considerable part of the public revenue will be expended by the prince
himself, by his ministers, by the officers of justice, and by the
domestics of the palace. The most wealthy of the provincials will be
attracted by the powerful motives of interest and duty, of amusement and
curiosity. A third and more numerous class of inhabitants will insensibly
be formed, of servants, of artificers, and of merchants, who derive their
subsistence from their own labor, and from the wants or luxury of the
superior ranks. In less than a century, Constantinople disputed with Rome
itself the preëminence of riches and numbers. New piles of buildings,
crowded together with too little regard to health or convenience, scarcely
allowed the intervals of narrow streets for the perpetual throng of men,
of horses, and of carriages. The allotted space of ground was insufficient
to contain the increasing people; and the additional foundations, which,
on either side, were advanced into the sea, might alone have composed a
very considerable city. 57
The frequent and regular distributions of wine and oil, of corn or bread,
of money or provisions, had almost exempted the poorest citizens of Rome
from the necessity of labor. The magnificence of the first Cæsars was in
some measure imitated by the founder of Constantinople: 58
but his liberality, however it might excite the applause of the people,
has in curred the censure of posterity. A nation of legislators and
conquerors might assert their claim to the harvests of Africa, which had
been purchased with their blood; and it was artfully contrived by
Augustus, that, in the enjoyment of plenty, the Romans should lose the
memory of freedom. But the prodigality of Constantine could not be excused
by any consideration either of public or private interest; and the annual
tribute of corn imposed upon Egypt for the benefit of his new capital, was
applied to feed a lazy and insolent populace, at the expense of the
husbandmen of an industrious province. 59 5911
Some other regulations of this emperor are less liable to blame, but they
are less deserving of notice. He divided Constantinople into fourteen
regions or quarters, 60 dignified the public council with the
appellation of senate, 61 communicated to the citizens the privileges
of Italy, 62 and bestowed on the rising city the title of
Colony, the first and most favored daughter of ancient Rome. The venerable
parent still maintained the legal and acknowledged supremacy, which was
due to her age, her dignity, and to the remembrance of her former
greatness. 63
Hæc nobis, hæc ante dabas; nunc pabula tantum
Roma precor: miserere tuæ; pater optime, gentis:
Extremam defende famem. Claud. de Bell. Gildon. v. 34.—G.
As Constantine urged the progress of the work with the impatience of a
lover, the walls, the porticos, and the principal edifices were completed
in a few years, or, according to another account, in a few months; 64
but this extraordinary diligence should excite the less admiration, since
many of the buildings were finished in so hasty and imperfect a manner,
that under the succeeding reign, they were preserved with difficulty from
impending ruin. 65 But while they displayed the vigor and
freshness of youth, the founder prepared to celebrate the dedication of
his city. 66 The games and largesses which crowned the
pomp of this memorable festival may easily be supposed; but there is one
circumstance of a more singular and permanent nature, which ought not
entirely to be overlooked. As often as the birthday of the city returned,
the statue of Constantine, framed by his order, of gilt wood, and bearing
in his right hand a small image of the genius of the place, was erected on
a triumphal car. The guards, carrying white tapers, and clothed in their
richest apparel, accompanied the solemn procession as it moved through the
Hippodrome. When it was opposite to the throne of the reigning emperor, he
rose from his seat, and with grateful reverence adored the memory of his
predecessor. 67 At the festival of the dedication, an edict,
engraved on a column of marble, bestowed the title of Second or New Rome
on the city of Constantine. 68 But the name of
Constantinople 69 has prevailed over that honorable epithet;
and after the revolution of fourteen centuries, still perpetuates the fame
of its author. 70
The foundation of a new capital is naturally connected with the
establishment of a new form of civil and military administration. The
distinct view of the complicated system of policy, introduced by
Diocletian, improved by Constantine, and completed by his immediate
successors, may not only amuse the fancy by the singular picture of a
great empire, but will tend to illustrate the secret and internal causes
of its rapid decay. In the pursuit of any remarkable institution, we may
be frequently led into the more early or the more recent times of the
Roman history; but the proper limits of this inquiry will be included
within a period of about one hundred and thirty years, from the accession
of Constantine to the publication of the Theodosian code; 71
from which, as well as from the Notitia 7111 of the East and
West, 72 we derive the most copious and authentic
information of the state of the empire. This variety of objects will
suspend, for some time, the course of the narrative; but the interruption
will be censured only by those readers who are insensible to the
importance of laws and manners, while they peruse, with eager curiosity,
the transient intrigues of a court, or the accidental event of a battle.
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part III.
The manly pride of the Romans, content with substantial power, had left to
the vanity of the East the forms and ceremonies of ostentatious greatness.
73
But when they lost even the semblance of those virtues which were derived
from their ancient freedom, the simplicity of Roman manners was insensibly
corrupted by the stately affectation of the courts of Asia. The
distinctions of personal merit and influence, so conspicuous in a
republic, so feeble and obscure under a monarchy, were abolished by the
despotism of the emperors; who substituted in their room a severe
subordination of rank and office from the titled slaves who were seated on
the steps of the throne, to the meanest instruments of arbitrary power.
This multitude of abject dependants was interested in the support of the
actual government from the dread of a revolution, which might at once
confound their hopes and intercept the reward of their services. In this
divine hierarchy (for such it is frequently styled) every rank was marked
with the most scrupulous exactness, and its dignity was displayed in a
variety of trifling and solemn ceremonies, which it was a study to learn,
and a sacrilege to neglect. 74 The purity of the
Latin language was debased, by adopting, in the intercourse of pride and
flattery, a profusion of epithets, which Tully would scarcely have
understood, and which Augustus would have rejected with indignation. The
principal officers of the empire were saluted, even by the sovereign
himself, with the deceitful titles of your Sincerity, your Gravity, your
Excellency, your Eminence, your sublime and wonderful Magnitude, your
illustrious and magnificent Highness. 75 The codicils or
patents of their office were curiously emblazoned with such emblems as
were best adapted to explain its nature and high dignity; the image or
portrait of the reigning emperors; a triumphal car; the book of mandates
placed on a table, covered with a rich carpet, and illuminated by four
tapers; the allegorical figures of the provinces which they governed; or
the appellations and standards of the troops whom they commanded. Some of
these official ensigns were really exhibited in their hall of audience;
others preceded their pompous march whenever they appeared in public; and
every circumstance of their demeanor, their dress, their ornaments, and
their train, was calculated to inspire a deep reverence for the
representatives of supreme majesty. By a philosophic observer, the system
of the Roman government might have been mistaken for a splendid theatre,
filled with players of every character and degree, who repeated the
language, and imitated the passions, of their original model. 76
All the magistrates of sufficient importance to find a place in the
general state of the empire, were accurately divided into three classes.
1. The Illustrious. 2. The Spectabiles, or Respectable. And, 3. the
Clarissimi; whom we may translate by the word Honorable. In the times of
Roman simplicity, the last-mentioned epithet was used only as a vague
expression of deference, till it became at length the peculiar and
appropriated title of all who were members of the senate, 77
and consequently of all who, from that venerable body, were selected to
govern the provinces. The vanity of those who, from their rank and office,
might claim a superior distinction above the rest of the senatorial order,
was long afterwards indulged with the new appellation of Respectable; but
the title of Illustrious was always reserved to some eminent personages
who were obeyed or reverenced by the two subordinate classes. It was
communicated only, I. To the consuls and patricians; II. To the Prætorian
præfects, with the præfects of Rome and Constantinople; III. To the
masters-general of the cavalry and the infantry; and IV. To the seven
ministers of the palace, who exercised their sacred functions about the
person of the emperor. 78 Among those illustrious magistrates who were
esteemed coordinate with each other, the seniority of appointment gave
place to the union of dignities. 79 By the expedient of
honorary codicils, the emperors, who were fond of multiplying their
favors, might sometimes gratify the vanity, though not the ambition, of
impatient courtiers. 80
I. As long as the Roman consuls were the first magistrates of a free
state, they derived their right to power from the choice of the people. As
long as the emperors condescended to disguise the servitude which they
imposed, the consuls were still elected by the real or apparent suffrage
of the senate. From the reign of Diocletian, even these vestiges of
liberty were abolished, and the successful candidates who were invested
with the annual honors of the consulship, affected to deplore the
humiliating condition of their predecessors. The Scipios and the Catos had
been reduced to solicit the votes of plebeians, to pass through the
tedious and expensive forms of a popular election, and to expose their
dignity to the shame of a public refusal; while their own happier fate had
reserved them for an age and government in which the rewards of virtue
were assigned by the unerring wisdom of a gracious sovereign. 81
In the epistles which the emperor addressed to the two consuls elect, it
was declared, that they were created by his sole authority. 82
Their names and portraits, engraved on gilt tables of ivory, were
dispersed over the empire as presents to the provinces, the cities, the
magistrates, the senate, and the people. 83 Their solemn
inauguration was performed at the place of the Imperial residence; and
during a period of one hundred and twenty years, Rome was constantly
deprived of the presence of her ancient magistrates. 84
Montfaucon has represented some of these tablets or dypticks see
Supplement à l’Antiquité expliquée, tom. iii. p. 220.]
Consule lætatur post plurima seculo viso
Pallanteus apex: agnoscunt rostra curules
Auditas quondam proavis:
desuetaque cingit Regius auratis
Fora fascibus Ulpia lictor.
—Claud. in vi. Cons. Honorii, 643.
On the morning of the first of January, the consuls assumed the ensigns of
their dignity. Their dress was a robe of purple, embroidered in silk and
gold, and sometimes ornamented with costly gems. 85 On this solemn
occasion they were attended by the most eminent officers of the state and
army, in the habit of senators; and the useless fasces, armed with the
once formidable axes, were borne before them by the lictors.
The procession moved from the palace 87 to the Forum or
principal square of the city; where the consuls ascended their tribunal,
and seated themselves in the curule chairs, which were framed after the
fashion of ancient times. They immediately exercised an act of
jurisdiction, by the manumission of a slave, who was brought before them
for that purpose; and the ceremony was intended to represent the
celebrated action of the elder Brutus, the author of liberty and of the
consulship, when he admitted among his fellow-citizens the faithful
Vindex, who had revealed the conspiracy of the Tarquins. 88
The public festival was continued during several days in all the principal
cities in Rome, from custom; in Constantinople, from imitation in
Carthage, Antioch, and Alexandria, from the love of pleasure, and the
superfluity of wealth. 89 In the two capitals of the empire the annual
games of the theatre, the circus, and the amphitheatre, 90
cost four thousand pounds of gold, (about) one hundred and sixty thousand
pounds sterling: and if so heavy an expense surpassed the faculties or the
inclinations of the magistrates themselves, the sum was supplied from the
Imperial treasury. 91 As soon as the consuls had discharged these
customary duties, they were at liberty to retire into the shade of private
life, and to enjoy, during the remainder of the year, the undisturbed
contemplation of their own greatness. They no longer presided in the
national councils; they no longer executed the resolutions of peace or
war. Their abilities (unless they were employed in more effective offices)
were of little moment; and their names served only as the legal date of
the year in which they had filled the chair of Marius and of Cicero. Yet
it was still felt and acknowledged, in the last period of Roman servitude,
that this empty name might be compared, and even preferred, to the
possession of substantial power. The title of consul was still the most
splendid object of ambition, the noblest reward of virtue and loyalty. The
emperors themselves, who disdained the faint shadow of the republic, were
conscious that they acquired an additional splendor and majesty as often
as they assumed the annual honors of the consular dignity. 92
The proudest and most perfect separation which can be found in any age or
country, between the nobles and the people, is perhaps that of the
Patricians and the Plebeians, as it was established in the first age of
the Roman republic. Wealth and honors, the offices of the state, and the
ceremonies of religion, were almost exclusively possessed by the former
who, preserving the purity of their blood with the most insulting
jealousy, 93 held their clients in a condition of specious
vassalage. But these distinctions, so incompatible with the spirit of a
free people, were removed, after a long struggle, by the persevering
efforts of the Tribunes. The most active and successful of the Plebeians
accumulated wealth, aspired to honors, deserved triumphs, contracted
alliances, and, after some generations, assumed the pride of ancient
nobility. 94 The Patrician families, on the other hand,
whose original number was never recruited till the end of the
commonwealth, either failed in the ordinary course of nature, or were
extinguished in so many foreign and domestic wars, or, through a want of
merit or fortune, insensibly mingled with the mass of the people. 95
Very few remained who could derive their pure and genuine origin from the
infancy of the city, or even from that of the republic, when Cæsar and
Augustus, Claudius and Vespasian, created from the body of the senate a
competent number of new Patrician families, in the hope of perpetuating an
order, which was still considered as honorable and sacred. 96
But these artificial supplies (in which the reigning house was always
included) were rapidly swept away by the rage of tyrants, by frequent
revolutions, by the change of manners, and by the intermixture of nations.
97
Little more was left when Constantine ascended the throne, than a vague
and imperfect tradition, that the Patricians had once been the first of
the Romans. To form a body of nobles, whose influence may restrain, while
it secures the authority of the monarch, would have been very inconsistent
with the character and policy of Constantine; but had he seriously
entertained such a design, it might have exceeded the measure of his power
to ratify, by an arbitrary edict, an institution which must expect the
sanction of time and of opinion. He revived, indeed, the title of
Patricians, but he revived it as a personal, not as an hereditary
distinction. They yielded only to the transient superiority of the annual
consuls; but they enjoyed the pre-eminence over all the great officers of
state, with the most familiar access to the person of the prince. This
honorable rank was bestowed on them for life; and as they were usually
favorites, and ministers who had grown old in the Imperial court, the true
etymology of the word was perverted by ignorance and flattery; and the
Patricians of Constantine were reverenced as the adopted Fathers of the
emperor and the republic. 98
II. The fortunes of the Prætorian præfects were essentially different
from those of the consuls and Patricians. The latter saw their ancient
greatness evaporate in a vain title.
The former, rising by degrees from the most humble condition, were
invested with the civil and military administration of the Roman world.
From the reign of Severus to that of Diocletian, the guards and the
palace, the laws and the finances, the armies and the provinces, were
intrusted to their superintending care; and, like the Viziers of the East,
they held with one hand the seal, and with the other the standard, of the
empire. The ambition of the præfects, always formidable, and sometimes
fatal to the masters whom they served, was supported by the strength of
the Prætorian bands; but after those haughty troops had been weakened by
Diocletian, and finally suppressed by Constantine, the præfects, who
survived their fall, were reduced without difficulty to the station of
useful and obedient ministers. When they were no longer responsible for
the safety of the emperor’s person, they resigned the jurisdiction which
they had hitherto claimed and exercised over all the departments of the
palace. They were deprived by Constantine of all military command, as soon
as they had ceased to lead into the field, under their immediate orders,
the flower of the Roman troops; and at length, by a singular revolution,
the captains of the guards were transformed into the civil magistrates of
the provinces. According to the plan of government instituted by
Diocletian, the four princes had each their Prætorian præfect; and after
the monarchy was once more united in the person of Constantine, he still
continued to create the same number of Four Præfects, and intrusted to
their care the same provinces which they already administered. 1. The
præfect of the East stretched his ample jurisdiction into the three parts
of the globe which were subject to the Romans, from the cataracts of the
Nile to the banks of the Phasis, and from the mountains of Thrace to the
frontiers of Persia. 2. The important provinces of Pannonia, Dacia,
Macedonia, and Greece, once acknowledged the authority of the præfect of
Illyricum. 3. The power of the præfect of Italy was not confined to the
country from whence he derived his title; it extended over the additional
territory of Rhætia as far as the banks of the Danube, over the dependent
islands of the Mediterranean, and over that part of the continent of
Africa which lies between the confines of Cyrene and those of Tingitania.
4. The præfect of the Gauls comprehended under that plural denomination
the kindred provinces of Britain and Spain, and his authority was obeyed
from the wall of Antoninus to the foot of Mount Atlas. 99
After the Prætorian præfects had been dismissed from all military
command, the civil functions which they were ordained to exercise over so
many subject nations, were adequate to the ambition and abilities of the
most consummate ministers. To their wisdom was committed the supreme
administration of justice and of the finances, the two objects which, in a
state of peace, comprehend almost all the respective duties of the
sovereign and of the people; of the former, to protect the citizens who
are obedient to the laws; of the latter, to contribute the share of their
property which is required for the expenses of the state. The coin, the
highways, the posts, the granaries, the manufactures, whatever could
interest the public prosperity, was moderated by the authority of the
Prætorian præfects. As the immediate representatives of the Imperial
majesty, they were empowered to explain, to enforce, and on some occasions
to modify, the general edicts by their discretionary proclamations. They
watched over the conduct of the provincial governors, removed the
negligent, and inflicted punishments on the guilty. From all the inferior
jurisdictions, an appeal in every matter of importance, either civil or
criminal, might be brought before the tribunal of the præfect; but his
sentence was final and absolute; and the emperors themselves refused to
admit any complaints against the judgment or the integrity of a magistrate
whom they honored with such unbounded confidence. 100 His appointments
were suitable to his dignity; 101 and if avarice was
his ruling passion, he enjoyed frequent opportunities of collecting a rich
harvest of fees, of presents, and of perquisites. Though the emperors no
longer dreaded the ambition of their præfects, they were attentive to
counterbalance the power of this great office by the uncertainty and
shortness of its duration. 102
From their superior importance and dignity, Rome and Constantinople were
alone excepted from the jurisdiction of the Prætorian præfects. The
immense size of the city, and the experience of the tardy, ineffectual
operation of the laws, had furnished the policy of Augustus with a
specious pretence for introducing a new magistrate, who alone could
restrain a servile and turbulent populace by the strong arm of arbitrary
power. 103 Valerius Messalla was appointed the first
præfect of Rome, that his reputation might countenance so invidious a
measure; but, at the end of a few days, that accomplished citizen 104
resigned his office, declaring, with a spirit worthy of the friend of
Brutus, that he found himself incapable of exercising a power incompatible
with public freedom. 105 As the sense of liberty became less
exquisite, the advantages of order were more clearly understood; and the
præfect, who seemed to have been designed as a terror only to slaves and
vagrants, was permitted to extend his civil and criminal jurisdiction over
the equestrian and noble families of Rome. The prætors, annually created
as the judges of law and equity, could not long dispute the possession of
the Forum with a vigorous and permanent magistrate, who was usually
admitted into the confidence of the prince. Their courts were deserted,
their number, which had once fluctuated between twelve and eighteen, 106
was gradually reduced to two or three, and their important functions were
confined to the expensive obligation 107 of exhibiting
games for the amusement of the people. After the office of the Roman
consuls had been changed into a vain pageant, which was rarely displayed
in the capital, the præfects assumed their vacant place in the senate,
and were soon acknowledged as the ordinary presidents of that venerable
assembly. They received appeals from the distance of one hundred miles;
and it was allowed as a principle of jurisprudence, that all municipal
authority was derived from them alone. 108 In the discharge
of his laborious employment, the governor of Rome was assisted by fifteen
officers, some of whom had been originally his equals, or even his
superiors. The principal departments were relative to the command of a
numerous watch, established as a safeguard against fires, robberies, and
nocturnal disorders; the custody and distribution of the public allowance
of corn and provisions; the care of the port, of the aqueducts, of the
common sewers, and of the navigation and bed of the Tyber; the inspection
of the markets, the theatres, and of the private as well as the public
works. Their vigilance insured the three principal objects of a regular
police, safety, plenty, and cleanliness; and as a proof of the attention
of government to preserve the splendor and ornaments of the capital, a
particular inspector was appointed for the statues; the guardian, as it
were, of that inanimate people, which, according to the extravagant
computation of an old writer, was scarcely inferior in number to the
living inhabitants of Rome. About thirty years after the foundation of
Constantinople, a similar magistrate was created in that rising
metropolis, for the same uses and with the same powers. A perfect equality
was established between the dignity of the two municipal, and that of the
four Prætorian præfects. 109
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part IV.
Those who, in the imperial hierarchy, were distinguished by the title of
Respectable, formed an intermediate class between the illustrious
præfects, and the honorable magistrates of the provinces. In this class
the proconsuls of Asia, Achaia, and Africa, claimed a preëminence, which
was yielded to the remembrance of their ancient dignity; and the appeal
from their tribunal to that of the præfects was almost the only mark of
their dependence. 110 But the civil government of the empire was
distributed into thirteen great Dioceses, each of which equalled the just
measure of a powerful kingdom. The first of these dioceses was subject to
the jurisdiction of the count of the east; and we may convey some idea of
the importance and variety of his functions, by observing, that six
hundred apparitors, who would be styled at present either secretaries, or
clerks, or ushers, or messengers, were employed in his immediate office.
111
The place of Augustal præfect of Egypt was no longer filled by a Roman
knight; but the name was retained; and the extraordinary powers which the
situation of the country, and the temper of the inhabitants, had once made
indispensable, were still continued to the governor. The eleven remaining
dioceses, of Asiana, Pontica, and Thrace; of Macedonia, Dacia, and
Pannonia, or Western Illyricum; of Italy and Africa; of Gaul, Spain, and
Britain; were governed by twelve vicars or vice-præfects, 112
whose name sufficiently explains the nature and dependence of their
office. It may be added, that the lieutenant-generals of the Roman armies,
the military counts and dukes, who will be hereafter mentioned, were
allowed the rank and title of Respectable.
As the spirit of jealousy and ostentation prevailed in the councils of the
emperors, they proceeded with anxious diligence to divide the substance
and to multiply the titles of power. The vast countries which the Roman
conquerors had united under the same simple form of administration, were
imperceptibly crumbled into minute fragments; till at length the whole
empire was distributed into one hundred and sixteen provinces, each of
which supported an expensive and splendid establishment. Of these, three
were governed by proconsuls, thirty-seven by consulars, five by
correctors, and seventy-one by presidents. The appellations of these
magistrates were different; they ranked in successive order, and the ensigns
of and their situation, from accidental circumstances, might be more or
less agreeable or advantageous. But they were all (excepting only the
pro-consuls) alike included in the class of honorable persons; and they
were alike intrusted, during the pleasure of the prince, and under the
authority of the præfects or their deputies, with the administration of
justice and the finances in their respective districts. The ponderous
volumes of the Codes and Pandects 113 would furnish
ample materials for a minute inquiry into the system of provincial
government, as in the space of six centuries it was approved by the wisdom
of the Roman statesmen and lawyers.
It may be sufficient for the historian to select two singular and salutary
provisions, intended to restrain the abuse of authority.
1. For the preservation of peace and order, the governors of the provinces
were armed with the sword of justice. They inflicted corporal punishments,
and they exercised, in capital offences, the power of life and death. But
they were not authorized to indulge the condemned criminal with the choice
of his own execution, or to pronounce a sentence of the mildest and most
honorable kind of exile. These prerogatives were reserved to the
præfects, who alone could impose the heavy fine of fifty pounds of gold:
their vicegerents were confined to the trifling weight of a few ounces. 114
This distinction, which seems to grant the larger, while it denies the
smaller degree of authority, was founded on a very rational motive. The
smaller degree was infinitely more liable to abuse. The passions of a
provincial magistrate might frequently provoke him into acts of
oppression, which affected only the freedom or the fortunes of the
subject; though, from a principle of prudence, perhaps of humanity, he
might still be terrified by the guilt of innocent blood. It may likewise
be considered, that exile, considerable fines, or the choice of an easy
death, relate more particularly to the rich and the noble; and the persons
the most exposed to the avarice or resentment of a provincial magistrate,
were thus removed from his obscure persecution to the more august and
impartial tribunal of the Prætorian præfect. 2. As it was reasonably
apprehended that the integrity of the judge might be biased, if his
interest was concerned, or his affections were engaged, the strictest
regulations were established, to exclude any person, without the special
dispensation of the emperor, from the government of the province where he
was born; 115 and to prohibit the governor or his son
from contracting marriage with a native, or an inhabitant; 116
or from purchasing slaves, lands, or houses, within the extent of his
jurisdiction. 117 Notwithstanding these rigorous precautions,
the emperor Constantine, after a reign of twenty-five years, still
deplores the venal and oppressive administration of justice, and expresses
the warmest indignation that the audience of the judge, his despatch of
business, his seasonable delays, and his final sentence, were publicly
sold, either by himself or by the officers of his court. The continuance,
and perhaps the impunity, of these crimes, is attested by the repetition
of impotent laws and ineffectual menaces. 118
All the civil magistrates were drawn from the profession of the law. The
celebrated Institutes of Justinian are addressed to the youth of his
dominions, who had devoted themselves to the study of Roman jurisprudence;
and the sovereign condescends to animate their diligence, by the assurance
that their skill and ability would in time be rewarded by an adequate
share in the government of the republic. 119 The rudiments of
this lucrative science were taught in all the considerable cities of the
east and west; but the most famous school was that of Berytus, 120
on the coast of Phœnicia; which flourished above three centuries from the
time of Alexander Severus, the author perhaps of an institution so
advantageous to his native country. After a regular course of education,
which lasted five years, the students dispersed themselves through the
provinces, in search of fortune and honors; nor could they want an
inexhaustible supply of business in a great empire already corrupted by
the multiplicity of laws, of arts, and of vices. The court of the
Prætorian præfect of the east could alone furnish employment for one
hundred and fifty advocates, sixty-four of whom were distinguished by
peculiar privileges, and two were annually chosen, with a salary of sixty
pounds of gold, to defend the causes of the treasury. The first experiment
was made of their judicial talents, by appointing them to act occasionally
as assessors to the magistrates; from thence they were often raised to
preside in the tribunals before which they had pleaded. They obtained the
government of a province; and, by the aid of merit, of reputation, or of
favor, they ascended, by successive steps, to the illustrious dignities of
the state. 121 In the practice of the bar, these men had
considered reason as the instrument of dispute; they interpreted the laws
according to the dictates of private interest and the same pernicious
habits might still adhere to their characters in the public administration
of the state. The honor of a liberal profession has indeed been vindicated
by ancient and modern advocates, who have filled the most important
stations, with pure integrity and consummate wisdom: but in the decline of
Roman jurisprudence, the ordinary promotion of lawyers was pregnant with
mischief and disgrace. The noble art, which had once been preserved as the
sacred inheritance of the patricians, was fallen into the hands of
freedmen and plebeians, 122 who, with cunning rather than with skill,
exercised a sordid and pernicious trade. Some of them procured admittance
into families for the purpose of fomenting differences, of encouraging
suits, and of preparing a harvest of gain for themselves or their
brethren. Others, recluse in their chambers, maintained the dignity of
legal professors, by furnishing a rich client with subtleties to confound
the plainest truths, and with arguments to color the most unjustifiable
pretensions. The splendid and popular class was composed of the advocates,
who filled the Forum with the sound of their turgid and loquacious
rhetoric. Careless of fame and of justice, they are described, for the
most part, as ignorant and rapacious guides, who conducted their clients
through a maze of expense, of delay, and of disappointment; from whence,
after a tedious series of years, they were at length dismissed, when their
patience and fortune were almost exhausted. 123
III. In the system of policy introduced by Augustus, the governors, those
at least of the Imperial provinces, were invested with the full powers of
the sovereign himself. Ministers of peace and war, the distribution of
rewards and punishments depended on them alone, and they successively
appeared on their tribunal in the robes of civil magistracy, and in
complete armor at the head of the Roman legions. 124 The influence of
the revenue, the authority of law, and the command of a military force,
concurred to render their power supreme and absolute; and whenever they
were tempted to violate their allegiance, the loyal province which they
involved in their rebellion was scarcely sensible of any change in its
political state. From the time of Commodus to the reign of Constantine,
near one hundred governors might be enumerated, who, with various success,
erected the standard of revolt; and though the innocent were too often
sacrificed, the guilty might be sometimes prevented, by the suspicious
cruelty of their master. 125 To secure his throne and the public
tranquillity from these formidable servants, Constantine resolved to
divide the military from the civil administration, and to establish, as a
permanent and professional distinction, a practice which had been adopted
only as an occasional expedient. The supreme jurisdiction exercised by the
Prætorian præfects over the armies of the empire, was transferred to the
two masters-general whom he instituted, the one for the cavalry, the other
for the infantry; and though each of these illustrious officers was more
peculiarly responsible for the discipline of those troops which were under
his immediate inspection, they both indifferently commanded in the field
the several bodies, whether of horse or foot, which were united in the
same army. 126 Their number was soon doubled by the
division of the east and west; and as separate generals of the same rank
and title were appointed on the four important frontiers of the Rhine, of
the Upper and the Lower Danube, and of the Euphrates, the defence of the
Roman empire was at length committed to eight masters-general of the
cavalry and infantry. Under their orders, thirty-five military commanders
were stationed in the provinces: three in Britain, six in Gaul, one in
Spain, one in Italy, five on the Upper, and four on the Lower Danube; in
Asia, eight, three in Egypt, and four in Africa. The titles of counts, and
dukes, 127 by which they were properly distinguished,
have obtained in modern languages so very different a sense, that the use
of them may occasion some surprise. But it should be recollected, that the
second of those appellations is only a corruption of the Latin word, which
was indiscriminately applied to any military chief. All these provincial
generals were therefore dukes; but no more than ten among them were
dignified with the rank of counts or companions, a title of honor, or
rather of favor, which had been recently invented in the court of
Constantine. A gold belt was the ensign which distinguished the office of
the counts and dukes; and besides their pay, they received a liberal
allowance sufficient to maintain one hundred and ninety servants, and one
hundred and fifty-eight horses. They were strictly prohibited from
interfering in any matter which related to the administration of justice
or the revenue; but the command which they exercised over the troops of
their department, was independent of the authority of the magistrates.
About the same time that Constantine gave a legal sanction to the
ecclesiastical order, he instituted in the Roman empire the nice balance
of the civil and the military powers. The emulation, and sometimes the
discord, which reigned between two professions of opposite interests and
incompatible manners, was productive of beneficial and of pernicious
consequences. It was seldom to be expected that the general and the civil
governor of a province should either conspire for the disturbance, or
should unite for the service, of their country. While the one delayed to
offer the assistance which the other disdained to solicit, the troops very
frequently remained without orders or without supplies; the public safety
was betrayed, and the defenceless subjects were left exposed to the fury
of the Barbarians. The divided administration which had been formed by
Constantine, relaxed the vigor of the state, while it secured the
tranquillity of the monarch.
The memory of Constantine has been deservedly censured for another
innovation, which corrupted military discipline and prepared the ruin of
the empire. The nineteen years which preceded his final victory over
Licinius, had been a period of license and intestine war. The rivals who
contended for the possession of the Roman world, had withdrawn the
greatest part of their forces from the guard of the general frontier; and
the principal cities which formed the boundary of their respective
dominions were filled with soldiers, who considered their countrymen as
their most implacable enemies. After the use of these internal garrisons
had ceased with the civil war, the conqueror wanted either wisdom or
firmness to revive the severe discipline of Diocletian, and to suppress a
fatal indulgence, which habit had endeared and almost confirmed to the
military order. From the reign of Constantine, a popular and even legal
distinction was admitted between the Palatines 128 and the Borderers;
the troops of the court, as they were improperly styled, and the troops of
the frontier. The former, elevated by the superiority of their pay and
privileges, were permitted, except in the extraordinary emergencies of
war, to occupy their tranquil stations in the heart of the provinces. The
most flourishing cities were oppressed by the intolerable weight of
quarters. The soldiers insensibly forgot the virtues of their profession,
and contracted only the vices of civil life. They were either degraded by
the industry of mechanic trades, or enervated by the luxury of baths and
theatres. They soon became careless of their martial exercises, curious in
their diet and apparel; and while they inspired terror to the subjects of
the empire, they trembled at the hostile approach of the Barbarians. 129
The chain of fortifications which Diocletian and his colleagues had
extended along the banks of the great rivers, was no longer maintained
with the same care, or defended with the same vigilance. The numbers which
still remained under the name of the troops of the frontier, might be
sufficient for the ordinary defence; but their spirit was degraded by the
humiliating reflection, that they who were exposed to the hardships and
dangers of a perpetual warfare, were rewarded only with about two thirds
of the pay and emoluments which were lavished on the troops of the court.
Even the bands or legions that were raised the nearest to the level of
those unworthy favorites, were in some measure disgraced by the title of
honor which they were allowed to assume. It was in vain that Constantine
repeated the most dreadful menaces of fire and sword against the Borderers
who should dare desert their colors, to connive at the inroads of the
Barbarians, or to participate in the spoil. 130 The mischiefs
which flow from injudicious counsels are seldom removed by the application
of partial severities; and though succeeding princes labored to restore
the strength and numbers of the frontier garrisons, the empire, till the
last moment of its dissolution, continued to languish under the mortal
wound which had been so rashly or so weakly inflicted by the hand of
Constantine.
The same timid policy, of dividing whatever is united, of reducing
whatever is eminent, of dreading every active power, and of expecting that
the most feeble will prove the most obedient, seems to pervade the
institutions of several princes, and particularly those of Constantine.
The martial pride of the legions, whose victorious camps had so often been
the scene of rebellion, was nourished by the memory of their past
exploits, and the consciousness of their actual strength. As long as they
maintained their ancient establishment of six thousand men, they
subsisted, under the reign of Diocletian, each of them singly, a visible
and important object in the military history of the Roman empire. A few
years afterwards, these gigantic bodies were shrunk to a very diminutive
size; and when seven legions, with some auxiliaries, defended the city of
Amida against the Persians, the total garrison, with the inhabitants of
both sexes, and the peasants of the deserted country, did not exceed the
number of twenty thousand persons. 131 From this fact,
and from similar examples, there is reason to believe, that the
constitution of the legionary troops, to which they partly owed their
valor and discipline, was dissolved by Constantine; and that the bands of
Roman infantry, which still assumed the same names and the same honors,
consisted only of one thousand or fifteen hundred men. 132
The conspiracy of so many separate detachments, each of which was awed by
the sense of its own weakness, could easily be checked; and the successors
of Constantine might indulge their love of ostentation, by issuing their
orders to one hundred and thirty-two legions, inscribed on the muster-roll
of their numerous armies. The remainder of their troops was distributed
into several hundred cohorts of infantry, and squadrons of cavalry. Their
arms, and titles, and ensigns, were calculated to inspire terror, and to
display the variety of nations who marched under the Imperial standard.
And not a vestige was left of that severe simplicity, which, in the ages
of freedom and victory, had distinguished the line of battle of a Roman
army from the confused host of an Asiatic monarch. 133
A more particular enumeration, drawn from the Notitia, might exercise the
diligence of an antiquary; but the historian will content himself with
observing, that the number of permanent stations or garrisons established
on the frontiers of the empire, amounted to five hundred and eighty-three;
and that, under the successors of Constantine, the complete force of the
military establishment was computed at six hundred and forty-five thousand
soldiers. 134 An effort so prodigious surpassed the wants
of a more ancient, and the faculties of a later, period.
In the various states of society, armies are recruited from very different
motives. Barbarians are urged by the love of war; the citizens of a free
republic may be prompted by a principle of duty; the subjects, or at least
the nobles, of a monarchy, are animated by a sentiment of honor; but the
timid and luxurious inhabitants of a declining empire must be allured into
the service by the hopes of profit, or compelled by the dread of
punishment. The resources of the Roman treasury were exhausted by the
increase of pay, by the repetition of donatives, and by the invention of
new emolument and indulgences, which, in the opinion of the provincial
youth might compensate the hardships and dangers of a military life. Yet,
although the stature was lowered, 135 although slaves,
least by a tacit connivance, were indiscriminately received into the
ranks, the insurmountable difficulty of procuring a regular and adequate
supply of volunteers, obliged the emperors to adopt more effectual and
coercive methods. The lands bestowed on the veterans, as the free reward
of their valor were henceforward granted under a condition which contain
the first rudiments of the feudal tenures; that their sons, who succeeded
to the inheritance, should devote themselves to the profession of arms, as
soon as they attained the age of manhood; and their cowardly refusal was
punished by the loss of honor, of fortune, or even of life. 136
But as the annual growth of the sons of the veterans bore a very small
proportion to the demands of the service, levies of men were frequently
required from the provinces, and every proprietor was obliged either to
take up arms, or to procure a substitute, or to purchase his exemption by
the payment of a heavy fine. The sum of forty-two pieces of gold, to which
it was reduced ascertains the exorbitant price of volunteers, and the
reluctance with which the government admitted of this alternative. 137
Such was the horror for the profession of a soldier, which had affected
the minds of the degenerate Romans, that many of the youth of Italy and
the provinces chose to cut off the fingers of their right hand, to escape
from being pressed into the service; and this strange expedient was so
commonly practised, as to deserve the severe animadversion of the laws, 138
and a peculiar name in the Latin language. 139
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part V.
The introduction of Barbarians into the Roman armies became every day more
universal, more necessary, and more fatal. The most daring of the
Scythians, of the Goths, and of the Germans, who delighted in war, and who
found it more profitable to defend than to ravage the provinces, were
enrolled, not only in the auxiliaries of their respective nations, but in
the legions themselves, and among the most distinguished of the Palatine
troops. As they freely mingled with the subjects of the empire, they
gradually learned to despise their manners, and to imitate their arts.
They abjured the implicit reverence which the pride of Rome had exacted
from their ignorance, while they acquired the knowledge and possession of
those advantages by which alone she supported her declining greatness. The
Barbarian soldiers, who displayed any military talents, were advanced,
without exception, to the most important commands; and the names of the
tribunes, of the counts and dukes, and of the generals themselves, betray
a foreign origin, which they no longer condescended to disguise. They were
often intrusted with the conduct of a war against their countrymen; and
though most of them preferred the ties of allegiance to those of blood,
they did not always avoid the guilt, or at least the suspicion, of holding
a treasonable correspondence with the enemy, of inviting his invasion, or
of sparing his retreat. The camps and the palace of the son of Constantine
were governed by the powerful faction of the Franks, who preserved the
strictest connection with each other, and with their country, and who
resented every personal affront as a national indignity. 140
When the tyrant Caligula was suspected of an intention to invest a very
extraordinary candidate with the consular robes, the sacrilegious
profanation would have scarcely excited less astonishment, if, instead of
a horse, the noblest chieftain of Germany or Britain had been the object
of his choice. The revolution of three centuries had produced so
remarkable a change in the prejudices of the people, that, with the public
approbation, Constantine showed his successors the example of bestowing
the honors of the consulship on the Barbarians, who, by their merit and
services, had deserved to be ranked among the first of the Romans. 141
But as these hardy veterans, who had been educated in the ignorance or
contempt of the laws, were incapable of exercising any civil offices, the
powers of the human mind were contracted by the irreconcilable separation
of talents as well as of professions. The accomplished citizens of the
Greek and Roman republics, whose characters could adapt themselves to the
bar, the senate, the camp, or the schools, had learned to write, to speak,
and to act with the same spirit, and with equal abilities.
IV. Besides the magistrates and generals, who at a distance from the court
diffused their delegated authority over the provinces and armies, the
emperor conferred the rank of Illustrious on seven of his more immediate
servants, to whose fidelity he intrusted his safety, or his counsels, or
his treasures. 1. The private apartments of the palace were governed by a
favorite eunuch, who, in the language of that age, was styled the
præpositus, or præfect of the sacred bed-chamber. His duty was to attend
the emperor in his hours of state, or in those of amusement, and to
perform about his person all those menial services, which can only derive
their splendor from the influence of royalty. Under a prince who deserved
to reign, the great chamberlain (for such we may call him) was a useful
and humble domestic; but an artful domestic, who improves every occasion
of unguarded confidence, will insensibly acquire over a feeble mind that
ascendant which harsh wisdom and uncomplying virtue can seldom obtain. The
degenerate grandsons of Theodosius, who were invisible to their subjects,
and contemptible to their enemies, exalted the præfects of their
bed-chamber above the heads of all the ministers of the palace; 142
and even his deputy, the first of the splendid train of slaves who waited
in the presence, was thought worthy to rank before the respectable
proconsuls of Greece or Asia. The jurisdiction of the chamberlain was
acknowledged by the counts, or superintendents, who regulated the two
important provinces of the magnificence of the wardrobe, and of the luxury
of the Imperial table. 143 2. The principal administration of public
affairs was committed to the diligence and abilities of the master of the
offices. 144 He was the supreme magistrate of the
palace, inspected the discipline of the civil and military schools, and
received appeals from all parts of the empire, in the causes which related
to that numerous army of privileged persons, who, as the servants of the
court, had obtained for themselves and families a right to decline the
authority of the ordinary judges. The correspondence between the prince
and his subjects was managed by the four scrinia, or offices of this
minister of state. The first was appropriated to memorials, the second to
epistles, the third to petitions, and the fourth to papers and orders of a
miscellaneous kind. Each of these was directed by an inferior master of
respectable dignity, and the whole business was despatched by a hundred
and forty-eight secretaries, chosen for the most part from the profession
of the law, on account of the variety of abstracts of reports and
references which frequently occurred in the exercise of their several
functions. From a condescension, which in former ages would have been
esteemed unworthy the Roman majesty, a particular secretary was allowed
for the Greek language; and interpreters were appointed to receive the
ambassadors of the Barbarians; but the department of foreign affairs,
which constitutes so essential a part of modern policy, seldom diverted
the attention of the master of the offices. His mind was more seriously
engaged by the general direction of the posts and arsenals of the empire.
There were thirty-four cities, fifteen in the East, and nineteen in the
West, in which regular companies of workmen were perpetually employed in
fabricating defensive armor, offensive weapons of all sorts, and military
engines, which were deposited in the arsenals, and occasionally delivered
for the service of the troops. 3. In the course of nine centuries, the
office of quæstor had experienced a very singular revolution. In the
infancy of Rome, two inferior magistrates were annually elected by the
people, to relieve the consuls from the invidious management of the public
treasure; 145 a similar assistant was granted to every
proconsul, and to every prætor, who exercised a military or provincial
command; with the extent of conquest, the two quæstors were gradually
multiplied to the number of four, of eight, of twenty, and, for a short
time, perhaps, of forty; 146 and the noblest citizens ambitiously
solicited an office which gave them a seat in the senate, and a just hope
of obtaining the honors of the republic. Whilst Augustus affected to
maintain the freedom of election, he consented to accept the annual
privilege of recommending, or rather indeed of nominating, a certain
proportion of candidates; and it was his custom to select one of these
distinguished youths, to read his orations or epistles in the assemblies
of the senate. 147 The practice of Augustus was imitated by
succeeding princes; the occasional commission was established as a
permanent office; and the favored quæstor, assuming a new and more
illustrious character, alone survived the suppression of his ancient and
useless colleagues. 148 As the orations which he composed in the
name of the emperor, 149 acquired the force, and, at length, the
form, of absolute edicts, he was considered as the representative of the
legislative power, the oracle of the council, and the original source of
the civil jurisprudence. He was sometimes invited to take his seat in the
supreme judicature of the Imperial consistory, with the Prætorian
præfects, and the master of the offices; and he was frequently requested
to resolve the doubts of inferior judges: but as he was not oppressed with
a variety of subordinate business, his leisure and talents were employed
to cultivate that dignified style of eloquence, which, in the corruption
of taste and language, still preserves the majesty of the Roman laws. 150
In some respects, the office of the Imperial quæstor may be compared with
that of a modern chancellor; but the use of a great seal, which seems to
have been adopted by the illiterate barbarians, was never introduced to
attest the public acts of the emperors. 4. The extraordinary title of
count of the sacred largesses was bestowed on the treasurer-general of the
revenue, with the intention perhaps of inculcating, that every payment
flowed from the voluntary bounty of the monarch. To conceive the almost
infinite detail of the annual and daily expense of the civil and military
administration in every part of a great empire, would exceed the powers of
the most vigorous imagination.
The actual account employed several hundred persons, distributed into
eleven different offices, which were artfully contrived to examine and
control their respective operations. The multitude of these agents had a
natural tendency to increase; and it was more than once thought expedient
to dismiss to their native homes the useless supernumeraries, who,
deserting their honest labors, had pressed with too much eagerness into
the lucrative profession of the finances. 151 Twenty-nine
provincial receivers, of whom eighteen were honored with the title of
count, corresponded with the treasurer; and he extended his jurisdiction
over the mines from whence the precious metals were extracted, over the
mints, in which they were converted into the current coin, and over the
public treasuries of the most important cities, where they were deposited
for the service of the state. The foreign trade of the empire was
regulated by this minister, who directed likewise all the linen and
woollen manufactures, in which the successive operations of spinning,
weaving, and dyeing were executed, chiefly by women of a servile
condition, for the use of the palace and army. Twenty-six of these
institutions are enumerated in the West, where the arts had been more
recently introduced, and a still larger proportion may be allowed for the
industrious provinces of the East. 152 5. Besides the
public revenue, which an absolute monarch might levy and expend according
to his pleasure, the emperors, in the capacity of opulent citizens,
possessed a very extensive property, which was administered by the count
or treasurer of the private estate. Some part had perhaps been the ancient
demesnes of kings and republics; some accessions might be derived from the
families which were successively invested with the purple; but the most
considerable portion flowed from the impure source of confiscations and
forfeitures. The Imperial estates were scattered through the provinces,
from Mauritania to Britain; but the rich and fertile soil of Cappadocia
tempted the monarch to acquire in that country his fairest possessions, 153
and either Constantine or his successors embraced the occasion of
justifying avarice by religious zeal. They suppressed the rich temple of
Comana, where the high priest of the goddess of war supported the dignity
of a sovereign prince; and they applied to their private use the
consecrated lands, which were inhabited by six thousand subjects or slaves
of the deity and her ministers. 154 But these were not
the valuable inhabitants: the plains that stretch from the foot of Mount
Argæus to the banks of the Sarus, bred a generous race of horses,
renowned above all others in the ancient world for their majestic shape
and incomparable swiftness. These sacred animals, destined for the service
of the palace and the Imperial games, were protected by the laws from the
profanation of a vulgar master. 155 The demesnes of
Cappadocia were important enough to require the inspection of a count; 156
officers of an inferior rank were stationed in the other parts of the
empire; and the deputies of the private, as well as those of the public,
treasurer were maintained in the exercise of their independent functions,
and encouraged to control the authority of the provincial magistrates. 157
6, 7. The chosen bands of cavalry and infantry, which guarded the person
of the emperor, were under the immediate command of the two counts of the
domestics. The whole number consisted of three thousand five hundred men,
divided into seven schools, or troops, of five hundred each; and in the
East, this honorable service was almost entirely appropriated to the
Armenians. Whenever, on public ceremonies, they were drawn up in the
courts and porticos of the palace, their lofty stature, silent order, and
splendid arms of silver and gold, displayed a martial pomp not unworthy of
the Roman majesty. 158 From the seven schools two companies of
horse and foot were selected, of the protectors, whose advantageous
station was the hope and reward of the most deserving soldiers. They
mounted guard in the interior apartments, and were occasionally despatched
into the provinces, to execute with celerity and vigor the orders of their
master. 159 The counts of the domestics had succeeded
to the office of the Prætorian præfects; like the præfects, they
aspired from the service of the palace to the command of armies.
The perpetual intercourse between the court and the provinces was
facilitated by the construction of roads and the institution of posts. But
these beneficial establishments were accidentally connected with a
pernicious and intolerable abuse. Two or three hundred agents or
messengers were employed, under the jurisdiction of the master of the
offices, to announce the names of the annual consuls, and the edicts or
victories of the emperors. They insensibly assumed the license of
reporting whatever they could observe of the conduct either of magistrates
or of private citizens; and were soon considered as the eyes of the
monarch, 160 and the scourge of the people. Under the
warm influence of a feeble reign, they multiplied to the incredible number
of ten thousand, disdained the mild though frequent admonitions of the
laws, and exercised in the profitable management of the posts a rapacious
and insolent oppression. These official spies, who regularly corresponded
with the palace, were encouraged by favor and reward, anxiously to watch
the progress of every treasonable design, from the faint and latent
symptoms of disaffection, to the actual preparation of an open revolt.
Their careless or criminal violation of truth and justice was covered by
the consecrated mask of zeal; and they might securely aim their poisoned
arrows at the breast either of the guilty or the innocent, who had
provoked their resentment, or refused to purchase their silence. A
faithful subject, of Syria perhaps, or of Britain, was exposed to the
danger, or at least to the dread, of being dragged in chains to the court
of Milan or Constantinople, to defend his life and fortune against the
malicious charge of these privileged informers. The ordinary
administration was conducted by those methods which extreme necessity can
alone palliate; and the defects of evidence were diligently supplied by
the use of torture. 161
The deceitful and dangerous experiment of the criminal quæstion, as it is
emphatically styled, was admitted, rather than approved, in the
jurisprudence of the Romans. They applied this sanguinary mode of
examination only to servile bodies, whose sufferings were seldom weighed
by those haughty republicans in the scale of justice or humanity; but they
would never consent to violate the sacred person of a citizen, till they
possessed the clearest evidence of his guilt. 162 The annals of
tyranny, from the reign of Tiberius to that of Domitian, circumstantially
relate the executions of many innocent victims; but, as long as the
faintest remembrance was kept alive of the national freedom and honor, the
last hours of a Roman were secured from the danger of ignominions torture.
163
The conduct of the provincial magistrates was not, however, regulated by
the practice of the city, or the strict maxims of the civilians. They
found the use of torture established not only among the slaves of oriental
despotism, but among the Macedonians, who obeyed a limited monarch; among
the Rhodians, who flourished by the liberty of commerce; and even among
the sage Athenians, who had asserted and adorned the dignity of human
kind. 164 The acquiescence of the provincials
encouraged their governors to acquire, or perhaps to usurp, a
discretionary power of employing the rack, to extort from vagrants or
plebeian criminals the confession of their guilt, till they insensibly
proceeded to confound the distinction of rank, and to disregard the
privileges of Roman citizens. The apprehensions of the subjects urged them
to solicit, and the interest of the sovereign engaged him to grant, a
variety of special exemptions, which tacitly allowed, and even authorized,
the general use of torture. They protected all persons of illustrious or
honorable rank, bishops and their presbyters, professors of the liberal
arts, soldiers and their families, municipal officers, and their posterity
to the third generation, and all children under the age of puberty. 165
But a fatal maxim was introduced into the new jurisprudence of the empire,
that in the case of treason, which included every offence that the
subtlety of lawyers could derive from a hostile intention towards the
prince or republic, 166 all privileges were suspended, and all
conditions were reduced to the same ignominious level. As the safety of
the emperor was avowedly preferred to every consideration of justice or
humanity, the dignity of age and the tenderness of youth were alike
exposed to the most cruel tortures; and the terrors of a malicious
information, which might select them as the accomplices, or even as the
witnesses, perhaps, of an imaginary crime, perpetually hung over the heads
of the principal citizens of the Roman world. 167
These evils, however terrible they may appear, were confined to the
smaller number of Roman subjects, whose dangerous situation was in some
degree compensated by the enjoyment of those advantages, either of nature
or of fortune, which exposed them to the jealousy of the monarch. The
obscure millions of a great empire have much less to dread from the
cruelty than from the avarice of their masters, and their humble happiness
is principally affected by the grievance of excessive taxes, which, gently
pressing on the wealthy, descend with accelerated weight on the meaner and
more indigent classes of society. An ingenious philosopher 168
has calculated the universal measure of the public impositions by the
degrees of freedom and servitude; and ventures to assert, that, according
to an invariable law of nature, it must always increase with the former,
and diminish in a just proportion to the latter. But this reflection,
which would tend to alleviate the miseries of despotism, is contradicted
at least by the history of the Roman empire; which accuses the same
princes of despoiling the senate of its authority, and the provinces of
their wealth. Without abolishing all the various customs and duties on
merchandises, which are imperceptibly discharged by the apparent choice of
the purchaser, the policy of Constantine and his successors preferred a
simple and direct mode of taxation, more congenial to the spirit of an
arbitrary government. 169
Chapter XVII: Foundation Of Constantinople.—Part VI.
The name and use of the indictions, 170 which serve to
ascertain the chronology of the middle ages, were derived from the regular
practice of the Roman tributes. 171 The emperor
subscribed with his own hand, and in purple ink, the solemn edict, or
indiction, which was fixed up in the principal city of each diocese,
during two months previous to the first day of September. And by a very
easy connection of ideas, the word indiction was transferred to the
measure of tribute which it prescribed, and to the annual term which it
allowed for the payment. This general estimate of the supplies was
proportioned to the real and imaginary wants of the state; but as often as
the expense exceeded the revenue, or the revenue fell short of the
computation, an additional tax, under the name of superindiction, was
imposed on the people, and the most valuable attribute of sovereignty was
communicated to the Prætorian præfects, who, on some occasions, were
permitted to provide for the unforeseen and extraordinary exigencies of
the public service. The execution of these laws (which it would be tedious
to pursue in their minute and intricate detail) consisted of two distinct
operations: the resolving the general imposition into its constituent
parts, which were assessed on the provinces, the cities, and the
individuals of the Roman world; and the collecting the separate
contributions of the individuals, the cities, and the provinces, till the
accumulated sums were poured into the Imperial treasuries. But as the
account between the monarch and the subject was perpetually open, and as
the renewal of the demand anticipated the perfect discharge of the
preceding obligation, the weighty machine of the finances was moved by the
same hands round the circle of its yearly revolution. Whatever was
honorable or important in the administration of the revenue, was committed
to the wisdom of the præfects, and their provincia. representatives; the
lucrative functions were claimed by a crowd of subordinate officers, some
of whom depended on the treasurer, others on the governor of the province;
and who, in the inevitable conflicts of a perplexed jurisdiction, had
frequent opportunities of disputing with each other the spoils of the
people. The laborious offices, which could be productive only of envy and
reproach, of expense and danger, were imposed on the Decurions, who formed
the corporations of the cities, and whom the severity of the Imperial laws
had condemned to sustain the burdens of civil society. 172
The whole landed property of the empire (without excepting the patrimonial
estates of the monarch) was the object of ordinary taxation; and every new
purchaser contracted the obligations of the former proprietor. An accurate
census, 173 or survey, was the only equitable mode of
ascertaining the proportion which every citizen should be obliged to
contribute for the public service; and from the well-known period of the
indictions, there is reason to believe that this difficult and expensive
operation was repeated at the regular distance of fifteen years. The lands
were measured by surveyors, who were sent into the provinces; their
nature, whether arable or pasture, or vineyards or woods, was distinctly
reported; and an estimate was made of their common value from the average
produce of five years. The numbers of slaves and of cattle constituted an
essential part of the report; an oath was administered to the proprietors,
which bound them to disclose the true state of their affairs; and their
attempts to prevaricate, or elude the intention of the legislator, were
severely watched, and punished as a capital crime, which included the
double guilt of treason and sacrilege. 174 A large portion of
the tribute was paid in money; and of the current coin of the empire, gold
alone could be legally accepted. 175 The remainder of
the taxes, according to the proportions determined by the annual
indiction, was furnished in a manner still more direct, and still more
oppressive. According to the different nature of lands, their real produce
in the various articles of wine or oil, corn or barley, wood or iron, was
transported by the labor or at the expense of the provincials 17511 to the Imperial magazines, from whence
they were occasionally distributed for the use of the court, of the army,
and of two capitals, Rome and Constantinople. The commissioners of the
revenue were so frequently obliged to make considerable purchases, that
they were strictly prohibited from allowing any compensation, or from
receiving in money the value of those supplies which were exacted in kind.
In the primitive simplicity of small communities, this method may be well
adapted to collect the almost voluntary offerings of the people; but it is
at once susceptible of the utmost latitude, and of the utmost strictness,
which in a corrupt and absolute monarchy must introduce a perpetual
contest between the power of oppression and the arts of fraud. 176
The agriculture of the Roman provinces was insensibly ruined, and, in the
progress of despotism which tends to disappoint its own purpose, the
emperors were obliged to derive some merit from the forgiveness of debts,
or the remission of tributes, which their subjects were utterly incapable
of paying. According to the new division of Italy, the fertile and happy
province of Campania, the scene of the early victories and of the
delicious retirements of the citizens of Rome, extended between the sea
and the Apennine, from the Tiber to the Silarus. Within sixty years after
the death of Constantine, and on the evidence of an actual survey, an
exemption was granted in favor of three hundred and thirty thousand
English acres of desert and uncultivated land; which amounted to one
eighth of the whole surface of the province. As the footsteps of the
Barbarians had not yet been seen in Italy, the cause of this amazing
desolation, which is recorded in the laws, can be ascribed only to the
administration of the Roman emperors. 177
Either from design or from accident, the mode of assessment seemed to
unite the substance of a land tax with the forms of a capitation. 178
The returns which were sent of every province or district, expressed the
number of tributary subjects, and the amount of the public impositions.
The latter of these sums was divided by the former; and the estimate, that
such a province contained so many capita, or heads of tribute; and that
each head was rated at such a price, was universally received, not only in
the popular, but even in the legal computation. The value of a tributary
head must have varied, according to many accidental, or at least
fluctuating circumstances; but some knowledge has been preserved of a very
curious fact, the more important, since it relates to one of the richest
provinces of the Roman empire, and which now flourishes as the most
splendid of the European kingdoms. The rapacious ministers of Constantius
had exhausted the wealth of Gaul, by exacting twenty-five pieces of gold
for the annual tribute of every head. The humane policy of his successor
reduced the capitation to seven pieces. 179 A moderate
proportion between these opposite extremes of extraordinary oppression and
of transient indulgence, may therefore be fixed at sixteen pieces of gold,
or about nine pounds sterling, the common standard, perhaps, of the
impositions of Gaul. 180 But this calculation, or rather, indeed,
the facts from whence it is deduced, cannot fail of suggesting two
difficulties to a thinking mind, who will be at once surprised by the
equality, and by the enormity, of the capitation. An attempt to explain
them may perhaps reflect some light on the interesting subject of the
finances of the declining empire.
I. It is obvious, that, as long as the immutable constitution of human
nature produces and maintains so unequal a division of property, the most
numerous part of the community would be deprived of their subsistence, by
the equal assessment of a tax from which the sovereign would derive a very
trifling revenue. Such indeed might be the theory of the Roman capitation;
but in the practice, this unjust equality was no longer felt, as the
tribute was collected on the principle of a real, not of a personal
imposition. 18011 Several indigent citizens contributed
to compose a single head, or share of taxation; while the wealthy
provincial, in proportion to his fortune, alone represented several of
those imaginary beings. In a poetical request, addressed to one of the
last and most deserving of the Roman princes who reigned in Gaul, Sidonius
Apollinaris personifies his tribute under the figure of a triple monster,
the Geryon of the Grecian fables, and entreats the new Hercules that he
would most graciously be pleased to save his life by cutting off three of
his heads. 181 The fortune of Sidonius far exceeded the
customary wealth of a poet; but if he had pursued the allusion, he might
have painted many of the Gallic nobles with the hundred heads of the
deadly Hydra, spreading over the face of the country, and devouring the
substance of a hundred families. II. The difficulty of allowing an annual
sum of about nine pounds sterling, even for the average of the capitation
of Gaul, may be rendered more evident by the comparison of the present
state of the same country, as it is now governed by the absolute monarch
of an industrious, wealthy, and affectionate people. The taxes of France
cannot be magnified, either by fear or by flattery, beyond the annual
amount of eighteen millions sterling, which ought perhaps to be shared
among four and twenty millions of inhabitants. 182 Seven millions of
these, in the capacity of fathers, or brothers, or husbands, may discharge
the obligations of the remaining multitude of women and children; yet the
equal proportion of each tributary subject will scarcely rise above fifty
shillings of our money, instead of a proportion almost four times as
considerable, which was regularly imposed on their Gallic ancestors. The
reason of this difference may be found, not so much in the relative
scarcity or plenty of gold and silver, as in the different state of
society, in ancient Gaul and in modern France. In a country where personal
freedom is the privilege of every subject, the whole mass of taxes,
whether they are levied on property or on consumption, may be fairly
divided among the whole body of the nation. But the far greater part of
the lands of ancient Gaul, as well as of the other provinces of the Roman
world, were cultivated by slaves, or by peasants, whose dependent
condition was a less rigid servitude. 183 In such a state
the poor were maintained at the expense of the masters who enjoyed the
fruits of their labor; and as the rolls of tribute were filled only with
the names of those citizens who possessed the means of an honorable, or at
least of a decent subsistence, the comparative smallness of their numbers
explains and justifies the high rate of their capitation. The truth of
this assertion may be illustrated by the following example: The Ædui, one
of the most powerful and civilized tribes or cities of Gaul, occupied an
extent of territory, which now contains about five hundred thousand
inhabitants, in the two ecclesiastical dioceses of Autun and Nevers; 184
and with the probable accession of those of Châlons and Maçon, 185
the population would amount to eight hundred thousand souls. In the time
of Constantine, the territory of the Ædui afforded no more than
twenty-five thousand heads of capitation, of whom seven thousand were
discharged by that prince from the intolerable weight of tribute. 186
A just analogy would seem to countenance the opinion of an ingenious
historian, 187 that the free and tributary citizens did
not surpass the number of half a million; and if, in the ordinary
administration of government, their annual payments may be computed at
about four millions and a half of our money, it would appear, that
although the share of each individual was four times as considerable, a
fourth part only of the modern taxes of France was levied on the Imperial
province of Gaul. The exactions of Constantius may be calculated at seven
millions sterling, which were reduced to two millions by the humanity or
the wisdom of Julian.
Geryones nos esse puta, monstrumque tributum,
Hîc capita ut vivam, tu mihi tolle tria.
Sidon. Apollinar. Carm. xiii.
But this tax, or capitation, on the proprietors of land, would have
suffered a rich and numerous class of free citizens to escape. With the
view of sharing that species of wealth which is derived from art or labor,
and which exists in money or in merchandise, the emperors imposed a
distinct and personal tribute on the trading part of their subjects. 188
Some exemptions, very strictly confined both in time and place, were
allowed to the proprietors who disposed of the produce of their own
estates. Some indulgence was granted to the profession of the liberal
arts: but every other branch of commercial industry was affected by the
severity of the law. The honorable merchant of Alexandria, who imported
the gems and spices of India for the use of the western world; the usurer,
who derived from the interest of money a silent and ignominious profit;
the ingenious manufacturer, the diligent mechanic, and even the most
obscure retailer of a sequestered village, were obliged to admit the
officers of the revenue into the partnership of their gain; and the
sovereign of the Roman empire, who tolerated the profession, consented to
share the infamous salary, of public prostitutes. 18811 As this general tax upon industry was
collected every fourth year, it was styled the Lustral Contribution: and
the historian Zosimus 189 laments that the approach of the fatal
period was announced by the tears and terrors of the citizens, who were
often compelled by the impending scourge to embrace the most abhorred and
unnatural methods of procuring the sum at which their property had been
assessed. The testimony of Zosimus cannot indeed be justified from the
charge of passion and prejudice; but, from the nature of this tribute it
seems reasonable to conclude, that it was arbitrary in the distribution,
and extremely rigorous in the mode of collecting. The secret wealth of
commerce, and the precarious profits of art or labor, are susceptible only
of a discretionary valuation, which is seldom disadvantageous to the
interest of the treasury; and as the person of the trader supplies the
want of a visible and permanent security, the payment of the imposition,
which, in the case of a land tax, may be obtained by the seizure of
property, can rarely be extorted by any other means than those of corporal
punishments. The cruel treatment of the insolvent debtors of the state, is
attested, and was perhaps mitigated by a very humane edict of Constantine,
who, disclaiming the use of racks and of scourges, allots a spacious and
airy prison for the place of their confinement. 190
These general taxes were imposed and levied by the absolute authority of
the monarch; but the occasional offerings of the coronary gold still
retained the name and semblance of popular consent. It was an ancient
custom that the allies of the republic, who ascribed their safety or
deliverance to the success of the Roman arms, and even the cities of
Italy, who admired the virtues of their victorious general, adorned the
pomp of his triumph by their voluntary gifts of crowns of gold, which
after the ceremony were consecrated in the temple of Jupiter, to remain a
lasting monument of his glory to future ages. The progress of zeal and
flattery soon multiplied the number, and increased the size, of these
popular donations; and the triumph of Cæsar was enriched with two
thousand eight hundred and twenty-two massy crowns, whose weight amounted
to twenty thousand four hundred and fourteen pounds of gold. This treasure
was immediately melted down by the prudent dictator, who was satisfied
that it would be more serviceable to his soldiers than to the gods: his
example was imitated by his successors; and the custom was introduced of
exchanging these splendid ornaments for the more acceptable present of the
current gold coin of the empire. 191 The spontaneous
offering was at length exacted as the debt of duty; and instead of being
confined to the occasion of a triumph, it was supposed to be granted by
the several cities and provinces of the monarchy, as often as the emperor
condescended to announce his accession, his consulship, the birth of a
son, the creation of a Cæsar, a victory over the Barbarians, or any other
real or imaginary event which graced the annals of his reign. The peculiar
free gift of the senate of Rome was fixed by custom at sixteen hundred
pounds of gold, or about sixty-four thousand pounds sterling. The
oppressed subjects celebrated their own felicity, that their sovereign
should graciously consent to accept this feeble but voluntary testimony of
their loyalty and gratitude. 192
A people elated by pride, or soured by discontent, are seldom qualified to
form a just estimate of their actual situation. The subjects of
Constantine were incapable of discerning the decline of genius and manly
virtue, which so far degraded them below the dignity of their ancestors;
but they could feel and lament the rage of tyranny, the relaxation of
discipline, and the increase of taxes. The impartial historian, who
acknowledges the justice of their complaints, will observe some favorable
circumstances which tended to alleviate the misery of their condition. The
threatening tempest of Barbarians, which so soon subverted the foundations
of Roman greatness, was still repelled, or suspended, on the frontiers.
The arts of luxury and literature were cultivated, and the elegant
pleasures of society were enjoyed, by the inhabitants of a considerable
portion of the globe. The forms, the pomp, and the expense of the civil
administration contributed to restrain the irregular license of the
soldiers; and although the laws were violated by power, or perverted by
subtlety, the sage principles of the Roman jurisprudence preserved a sense
of order and equity, unknown to the despotic governments of the East. The
rights of mankind might derive some protection from religion and
philosophy; and the name of freedom, which could no longer alarm, might
sometimes admonish, the successors of Augustus, that they did not reign
over a nation of Slaves or Barbarians. 193
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And His Sons.—Part I.
Character Of Constantine.—Gothic War.—Death Of
Constantine.—Division Of The Empire Among His Three Sons.—
Persian War.—Tragic Deaths Of Constantine The Younger And
Constans.—Usurpation Of Magnentius.—Civil War.—Victory Of
Constantius.
The character of the prince who removed the seat of empire, and introduced
such important changes into the civil and religious constitution of his
country, has fixed the attention, and divided the opinions, of mankind. By
the grateful zeal of the Christians, the deliverer of the church has been
decorated with every attribute of a hero, and even of a saint; while the
discontent of the vanquished party has compared Constantine to the most
abhorred of those tyrants, who, by their vice and weakness, dishonored the
Imperial purple. The same passions have in some degree been perpetuated to
succeeding generations, and the character of Constantine is considered,
even in the present age, as an object either of satire or of panegyric. By
the impartial union of those defects which are confessed by his warmest
admirers, and of those virtues which are acknowledged by his
most-implacable enemies, we might hope to delineate a just portrait of
that extraordinary man, which the truth and candor of history should adopt
without a blush. 1 But it would soon appear, that the vain attempt
to blend such discordant colors, and to reconcile such inconsistent
qualities, must produce a figure monstrous rather than human, unless it is
viewed in its proper and distinct lights, by a careful separation of the
different periods of the reign of Constantine.
The person, as well as the mind, of Constantine, had been enriched by
nature with her choicest endowments. His stature was lofty, his countenance
majestic, his deportment graceful; his strength and activity were
displayed in every manly exercise, and from his earliest youth, to a very
advanced season of life, he preserved the vigor of his constitution by a
strict adherence to the domestic virtues of chastity and temperance. He
delighted in the social intercourse of familiar conversation; and though
he might sometimes indulge his disposition to raillery with less reserve
than was required by the severe dignity of his station, the courtesy and
liberality of his manners gained the hearts of all who approached him. The
sincerity of his friendship has been suspected; yet he showed, on some
occasions, that he was not incapable of a warm and lasting attachment. The
disadvantage of an illiterate education had not prevented him from forming
a just estimate of the value of learning; and the arts and sciences
derived some encouragement from the munificent protection of Constantine.
In the despatch of business, his diligence was indefatigable; and the
active powers of his mind were almost continually exercised in reading,
writing, or meditating, in giving audiences to ambassadors, and in
examining the complaints of his subjects. Even those who censured the
propriety of his measures were compelled to acknowledge, that he possessed
magnanimity to conceive, and patience to execute, the most arduous
designs, without being checked either by the prejudices of education, or
by the clamors of the multitude. In the field, he infused his own intrepid
spirit into the troops, whom he conducted with the talents of a consummate
general; and to his abilities, rather than to his fortune, we may ascribe
the signal victories which he obtained over the foreign and domestic foes
of the republic. He loved glory as the reward, perhaps as the motive, of
his labors. The boundless ambition, which, from the moment of his
accepting the purple at York, appears as the ruling passion of his soul,
may be justified by the dangers of his own situation, by the character of
his rivals, by the consciousness of superior merit, and by the prospect
that his success would enable him to restore peace and order to the
distracted empire. In his civil wars against Maxentius and Licinius, he
had engaged on his side the inclinations of the people, who compared the
undissembled vices of those tyrants with the spirit of wisdom and justice
which seemed to direct the general tenor of the administration of
Constantine. 2
Had Constantine fallen on the banks of the Tyber, or even in the plains of
Hadrianople, such is the character which, with a few exceptions, he might
have transmitted to posterity. But the conclusion of his reign (according
to the moderate and indeed tender sentence of a writer of the same age)
degraded him from the rank which he had acquired among the most deserving
of the Roman princes. 3 In the life of Augustus, we behold the tyrant
of the republic, converted, almost by imperceptible degrees, into the
father of his country, and of human kind. In that of Constantine, we may
contemplate a hero, who had so long inspired his subjects with love, and
his enemies with terror, degenerating into a cruel and dissolute monarch,
corrupted by his fortune, or raised by conquest above the necessity of
dissimulation. The general peace which he maintained during the last
fourteen years of his reign, was a period of apparent splendor rather than
of real prosperity; and the old age of Constantine was disgraced by the
opposite yet reconcilable vices of rapaciousness and prodigality. The
accumulated treasures found in the palaces of Maxentius and Licinius, were
lavishly consumed; the various innovations introduced by the conqueror,
were attended with an increasing expense; the cost of his buildings, his
court, and his festivals, required an immediate and plentiful supply; and
the oppression of the people was the only fund which could support the
magnificence of the sovereign. 4 His unworthy favorites,
enriched by the boundless liberality of their master, usurped with
impunity the privilege of rapine and corruption. 5 A secret but universal
decay was felt in every part of the public administration, and the emperor
himself, though he still retained the obedience, gradually lost the
esteem, of his subjects. The dress and manners, which, towards the decline
of life, he chose to affect, served only to degrade him in the eyes of
mankind. The Asiatic pomp, which had been adopted by the pride of
Diocletian, assumed an air of softness and effeminacy in the person of
Constantine. He is represented with false hair of various colors,
laboriously arranged by the skilful artists to the times; a diadem of a
new and more expensive fashion; a profusion of gems and pearls, of collars
and bracelets, and a variegated flowing robe of silk, most curiously
embroidered with flowers of gold. In such apparel, scarcely to be excused
by the youth and folly of Elagabalus, we are at a loss to discover the
wisdom of an aged monarch, and the simplicity of a Roman veteran. 6 A
mind thus relaxed by prosperity and indulgence, was incapable of rising to
that magnanimity which disdains suspicion, and dares to forgive. The
deaths of Maximian and Licinius may perhaps be justified by the maxims of
policy, as they are taught in the schools of tyrants; but an impartial
narrative of the executions, or rather murders, which sullied the
declining age of Constantine, will suggest to our most candid thoughts the
idea of a prince who could sacrifice without reluctance the laws of
justice, and the feelings of nature, to the dictates either of his
passions or of his interest.
The same fortune which so invariably followed the standard of Constantine,
seemed to secure the hopes and comforts of his domestic life. Those among
his predecessors who had enjoyed the longest and most prosperous reigns,
Augustus Trajan, and Diocletian, had been disappointed of posterity; and
the frequent revolutions had never allowed sufficient time for any
Imperial family to grow up and multiply under the shade of the purple. But
the royalty of the Flavian line, which had been first ennobled by the
Gothic Claudius, descended through several generations; and Constantine
himself derived from his royal father the hereditary honors which he
transmitted to his children. The emperor had been twice married.
Minervina, the obscure but lawful object of his youthful attachment, 7 had
left him only one son, who was called Crispus. By Fausta, the daughter of
Maximian, he had three daughters, and three sons known by the kindred
names of Constantine, Constantius, and Constans. The unambitious brothers
of the great Constantine, Julius Constantius, Dalmatius, and
Hannibalianus, 8 were permitted to enjoy the most honorable
rank, and the most affluent fortune, that could be consistent with a
private station. The youngest of the three lived without a name, and died
without posterity. His two elder brothers obtained in marriage the
daughters of wealthy senators, and propagated new branches of the Imperial
race. Gallus and Julian afterwards became the most illustrious of the
children of Julius Constantius, the Patrician.
The two sons of Dalmatius, who had been decorated with the vain title of
Censor, were named Dalmatius and Hannibalianus. The two sisters of the
great Constantine, Anastasia and Eutropia, were bestowed on Optatus and
Nepotianus, two senators of noble birth and of consular dignity. His third
sister, Constantia, was distinguished by her preëminence of greatness and
of misery. She remained the widow of the vanquished Licinius; and it was
by her entreaties, that an innocent boy, the offspring of their marriage,
preserved, for some time, his life, the title of Cæsar, and a precarious
hope of the succession. Besides the females, and the allies of the Flavian
house, ten or twelve males, to whom the language of modern courts would
apply the title of princes of the blood, seemed, according to the order of
their birth, to be destined either to inherit or to support the throne of
Constantine. But in less than thirty years, this numerous and increasing
family was reduced to the persons of Constantius and Julian, who alone had
survived a series of crimes and calamities, such as the tragic poets have
deplored in the devoted lines of Pelops and of Cadmus.
Crispus, the eldest son of Constantine, and the presumptive heir of the
empire, is represented by impartial historians as an amiable and
accomplished youth. The care of his education, or at least of his studies,
was intrusted to Lactantius, the most eloquent of the Christians; a
preceptor admirably qualified to form the taste, and the excite the
virtues, of his illustrious disciple. 9 At the age of seventeen,
Crispus was invested with the title of Cæsar, and the administration of
the Gallic provinces, where the inroads of the Germans gave him an early
occasion of signalizing his military prowess. In the civil war which broke
out soon afterwards, the father and son divided their powers; and this
history has already celebrated the valor as well as conduct displayed by
the latter, in forcing the straits of the Hellespont, so obstinately
defended by the superior fleet of Lacinius. This naval victory contributed
to determine the event of the war; and the names of Constantine and of
Crispus were united in the joyful acclamations of their eastern subjects;
who loudly proclaimed, that the world had been subdued, and was now
governed, by an emperor endowed with every virtue; and by his illustrious
son, a prince beloved of Heaven, and the lively image of his father’s
perfections. The public favor, which seldom accompanies old age, diffused
its lustre over the youth of Crispus. He deserved the esteem, and he
engaged the affections, of the court, the army, and the people. The
experienced merit of a reigning monarch is acknowledged by his subjects
with reluctance, and frequently denied with partial and discontented
murmurs; while, from the opening virtues of his successor, they fondly
conceive the most unbounded hopes of private as well as public felicity.
10
This dangerous popularity soon excited the attention of Constantine, who,
both as a father and as a king, was impatient of an equal. Instead of
attempting to secure the allegiance of his son by the generous ties of
confidence and gratitude, he resolved to prevent the mischiefs which might
be apprehended from dissatisfied ambition. Crispus soon had reason to
complain, that while his infant brother Constantius was sent, with the
title of Cæsar, to reign over his peculiar department of the Gallic
provinces, 11 he, a prince of mature years, who had
performed such recent and signal services, instead of being raised to the
superior rank of Augustus, was confined almost a prisoner to his father’s
court; and exposed, without power or defence, to every calumny which the
malice of his enemies could suggest. Under such painful circumstances, the
royal youth might not always be able to compose his behavior, or suppress
his discontent; and we may be assured, that he was encompassed by a train
of indiscreet or perfidious followers, who assiduously studied to inflame,
and who were perhaps instructed to betray, the unguarded warmth of his
resentment. An edict of Constantine, published about this time, manifestly
indicates his real or affected suspicions, that a secret conspiracy had
been formed against his person and government. By all the allurements of
honors and rewards, he invites informers of every degree to accuse without
exception his magistrates or ministers, his friends or his most intimate
favorites, protesting, with a solemn asseveration, that he himself will
listen to the charge, that he himself will revenge his injuries; and
concluding with a prayer, which discovers some apprehension of danger,
that the providence of the Supreme Being may still continue to protect the
safety of the emperor and of the empire. 12
The informers, who complied with so liberal an invitation, were
sufficiently versed in the arts of courts to select the friends and
adherents of Crispus as the guilty persons; nor is there any reason to
distrust the veracity of the emperor, who had promised an ample measure of
revenge and punishment. The policy of Constantine maintained, however, the
same appearances of regard and confidence towards a son, whom he began to
consider as his most irreconcilable enemy. Medals were struck with the
customary vows for the long and auspicious reign of the young Cæsar; 13
and as the people, who were not admitted into the secrets of the palace,
still loved his virtues, and respected his dignity, a poet who solicits
his recall from exile, adores with equal devotion the majesty of the
father and that of the son. 14 The time was now
arrived for celebrating the august ceremony of the twentieth year of the
reign of Constantine; and the emperor, for that purpose, removed his court
from Nicomedia to Rome, where the most splendid preparations had been made
for his reception. Every eye, and every tongue, affected to express their
sense of the general happiness, and the veil of ceremony and dissimulation
was drawn for a while over the darkest designs of revenge and murder. 15
In the midst of the festival, the unfortunate Crispus was apprehended by
order of the emperor, who laid aside the tenderness of a father, without
assuming the equity of a judge. The examination was short and private; 16
and as it was thought decent to conceal the fate of the young prince from
the eyes of the Roman people, he was sent under a strong guard to Pola, in
Istria, where, soon afterwards, he was put to death, either by the hand of
the executioner, or by the more gentle operations of poison. 17
The Cæsar Licinius, a youth of amiable manners, was involved in the ruin
of Crispus: 18 and the stern jealousy of Constantine was
unmoved by the prayers and tears of his favorite sister, pleading for the
life of a son, whose rank was his only crime, and whose loss she did not
long survive. The story of these unhappy princes, the nature and evidence
of their guilt, the forms of their trial, and the circumstances of their
death, were buried in mysterious obscurity; and the courtly bishop, who
has celebrated in an elaborate work the virtues and piety of his hero,
observes a prudent silence on the subject of these tragic events. 19
Such haughty contempt for the opinion of mankind, whilst it imprints an
indelible stain on the memory of Constantine, must remind us of the very
different behavior of one of the greatest monarchs of the present age. The
Czar Peter, in the full possession of despotic power, submitted to the
judgment of Russia, of Europe, and of posterity, the reasons which had
compelled him to subscribe the condemnation of a criminal, or at least of
a degenerate son. 20
The innocence of Crispus was so universally acknowledged, that the modern
Greeks, who adore the memory of their founder, are reduced to palliate the
guilt of a parricide, which the common feelings of human nature forbade
them to justify. They pretend, that as soon as the afflicted father
discovered the falsehood of the accusation by which his credulity had been
so fatally misled, he published to the world his repentance and remorse;
that he mourned forty days, during which he abstained from the use of the
bath, and all the ordinary comforts of life; and that, for the lasting
instruction of posterity, he erected a golden statue of Crispus, with this
memorable inscription: To my son, whom I unjustly condemned. 21
A tale so moral and so interesting would deserve to be supported by less
exceptionable authority; but if we consult the more ancient and authentic
writers, they will inform us, that the repentance of Constantine was
manifested only in acts of blood and revenge; and that he atoned for the
murder of an innocent son, by the execution, perhaps, of a guilty wife.
They ascribe the misfortunes of Crispus to the arts of his step-mother
Fausta, whose implacable hatred, or whose disappointed love, renewed in
the palace of Constantine the ancient tragedy of Hippolitus and of
Phædra. 22 Like the daughter of Minos, the daughter of
Maximian accused her son-in-law of an incestuous attempt on the chastity
of his father’s wife; and easily obtained, from the jealousy of the
emperor, a sentence of death against a young prince, whom she considered
with reason as the most formidable rival of her own children. But Helena,
the aged mother of Constantine, lamented and revenged the untimely fate of
her grandson Crispus; nor was it long before a real or pretended discovery
was made, that Fausta herself entertained a criminal connection with a
slave belonging to the Imperial stables. 23 Her condemnation and
punishment were the instant consequences of the charge; and the adulteress
was suffocated by the steam of a bath, which, for that purpose, had been
heated to an extraordinary degree. 24 By some it will
perhaps be thought, that the remembrance of a conjugal union of twenty
years, and the honor of their common offspring, the destined heirs of the
throne, might have softened the obdurate heart of Constantine, and
persuaded him to suffer his wife, however guilty she might appear, to
expiate her offences in a solitary prison. But it seems a superfluous
labor to weigh the propriety, unless we could ascertain the truth, of this
singular event, which is attended with some circumstances of doubt and
perplexity. Those who have attacked, and those who have defended, the
character of Constantine, have alike disregarded two very remarkable
passages of two orations pronounced under the succeeding reign. The former
celebrates the virtues, the beauty, and the fortune of the empress Fausta,
the daughter, wife, sister, and mother of so many princes. 25
The latter asserts, in explicit terms, that the mother of the younger
Constantine, who was slain three years after his father’s death, survived
to weep over the fate of her son. 26 Notwithstanding the
positive testimony of several writers of the Pagan as well as of the
Christian religion, there may still remain some reason to believe, or at
least to suspect, that Fausta escaped the blind and suspicious cruelty of
her husband. 2611 The deaths of a son and a nephew, with
the execution of a great number of respectable, and perhaps innocent
friends, 27 who were involved in their fall, may be
sufficient, however, to justify the discontent of the Roman people, and to
explain the satirical verses affixed to the palace gate, comparing the
splendid and bloody reigns of Constantine and Nero. 28
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And His Sons.—Part II.
By the death of Crispus, the inheritance of the empire seemed to devolve
on the three sons of Fausta, who have been already mentioned under the
names of Constantine, of Constantius, and of Constans. These young princes
were successively invested with the title of Cæsar; and the dates of
their promotion may be referred to the tenth, the twentieth, and the
thirtieth years of the reign of their father. 29 This conduct, though
it tended to multiply the future masters of the Roman world, might be
excused by the partiality of paternal affection; but it is not so easy to
understand the motives of the emperor, when he endangered the safety both
of his family and of his people, by the unnecessary elevation of his two
nephews, Dalmatius and Hannibalianus. The former was raised, by the title
of Cæsar, to an equality with his cousins. In favor of the latter,
Constantine invented the new and singular appellation of Nobilissimus; 30
to which he annexed the flattering distinction of a robe of purple and
gold. But of the whole series of Roman princes in any age of the empire,
Hannibalianus alone was distinguished by the title of King; a name which
the subjects of Tiberius would have detested, as the profane and cruel
insult of capricious tyranny. The use of such a title, even as it appears
under the reign of Constantine, is a strange and unconnected fact, which
can scarcely be admitted on the joint authority of Imperial medals and
contemporary writers. 31 3111
The whole empire was deeply interested in the education of these five
youths, the acknowledged successors of Constantine. The exercise of the
body prepared them for the fatigues of war and the duties of active life.
Those who occasionally mention the education or talents of Constantius,
allow that he excelled in the gymnastic arts of leaping and running that
he was a dexterous archer, a skilful horseman, and a master of all the
different weapons used in the service either of the cavalry or of the
infantry. 32 The same assiduous cultivation was bestowed,
though not perhaps with equal success, to improve the minds of the sons
and nephews of Constantine. 33 The most celebrated
professors of the Christian faith, of the Grecian philosophy, and of the
Roman jurisprudence, were invited by the liberality of the emperor, who
reserved for himself the important task of instructing the royal youths in
the science of government, and the knowledge of mankind. But the genius of
Constantine himself had been formed by adversity and experience. In the
free intercourse of private life, and amidst the dangers of the court of
Galerius, he had learned to command his own passions, to encounter those
of his equals, and to depend for his present safety and future greatness
on the prudence and firmness of his personal conduct. His destined
successors had the misfortune of being born and educated in the imperial
purple. Incessantly surrounded with a train of flatterers, they passed
their youth in the enjoyment of luxury, and the expectation of a throne;
nor would the dignity of their rank permit them to descend from that
elevated station from whence the various characters of human nature appear
to wear a smooth and uniform aspect. The indulgence of Constantine
admitted them, at a very tender age, to share the administration of the
empire; and they studied the art of reigning, at the expense of the people
intrusted to their care. The younger Constantine was appointed to hold his
court in Gaul; and his brother Constantius exchanged that department, the
ancient patrimony of their father, for the more opulent, but less martial,
countries of the East. Italy, the Western Illyricum, and Africa, were
accustomed to revere Constans, the third of his sons, as the
representative of the great Constantine. He fixed Dalmatius on the Gothic
frontier, to which he annexed the government of Thrace, Macedonia, and
Greece. The city of Cæsarea was chosen for the residence of
Hannibalianus; and the provinces of Pontus, Cappadocia, and the Lesser
Armenia, were destined to form the extent of his new kingdom. For each of
these princes a suitable establishment was provided. A just proportion of
guards, of legions, and of auxiliaries, was allotted for their respective
dignity and defence. The ministers and generals, who were placed about
their persons, were such as Constantine could trust to assist, and even to
control, these youthful sovereigns in the exercise of their delegated
power. As they advanced in years and experience, the limits of their
authority were insensibly enlarged: but the emperor always reserved for
himself the title of Augustus; and while he showed the Cæsars to the
armies and provinces, he maintained every part of the empire in equal
obedience to its supreme head. 34 The tranquillity of
the last fourteen years of his reign was scarcely interrupted by the
contemptible insurrection of a camel-driver in the Island of Cyprus, 35
or by the active part which the policy of Constantine engaged him to
assume in the wars of the Goths and Sarmatians.
Among the different branches of the human race, the Sarmatians form a very
remarkable shade; as they seem to unite the manners of the Asiatic
barbarians with the figure and complexion of the ancient inhabitants of
Europe. According to the various accidents of peace and war, of alliance
or conquest, the Sarmatians were sometimes confined to the banks of the
Tanais; and they sometimes spread themselves over the immense plains which
lie between the Vistula and the Volga. 36 The care of their
numerous flocks and herds, the pursuit of game, and the exercises of war,
or rather of rapine, directed the vagrant motions of the Sarmatians. The
movable camps or cities, the ordinary residence of their wives and
children, consisted only of large wagons drawn by oxen, and covered in the
form of tents. The military strength of the nation was composed of
cavalry; and the custom of their warriors, to lead in their hand one or
two spare horses, enabled them to advance and to retreat with a rapid
diligence, which surprised the security, and eluded the pursuit, of a
distant enemy. 37 Their poverty of iron prompted their rude
industry to invent a sort of cuirass, which was capable of resisting a
sword or javelin, though it was formed only of horses’ hoofs, cut into
thin and polished slices, carefully laid over each other in the manner of
scales or feathers, and strongly sewed upon an under garment of coarse
linen. 38 The offensive arms of the Sarmatians were
short daggers, long lances, and a weighty bow with a quiver of arrows.
They were reduced to the necessity of employing fish-bones for the points
of their weapons; but the custom of dipping them in a venomous liquor,
that poisoned the wounds which they inflicted, is alone sufficient to
prove the most savage manners, since a people impressed with a sense of
humanity would have abhorred so cruel a practice, and a nation skilled in
the arts of war would have disdained so impotent a resource. 39
Whenever these Barbarians issued from their deserts in quest of prey,
their shaggy beards, uncombed locks, the furs with which they were covered
from head to foot, and their fierce countenances, which seemed to express
the innate cruelty of their minds, inspired the more civilized provincials
of Rome with horror and dismay.
The use of poisoned arms, which has been spread over both worlds, never
preserved a savage tribe from the arms of a disciplined enemy. The tender
Ovid, after a youth spent in the enjoyment of fame and luxury, was
condemned to a hopeless exile on the frozen banks of the Danube, where he
was exposed, almost without defence, to the fury of these monsters of the
desert, with whose stern spirits he feared that his gentle shade might
hereafter be confounded. In his pathetic, but sometimes unmanly
lamentations, 40 he describes in the most lively colors the
dress and manners, the arms and inroads, of the Getæ and Sarmatians, who
were associated for the purposes of destruction; and from the accounts of
history there is some reason to believe that these Sarmatians were the
Jazygæ, one of the most numerous and warlike tribes of the nation. The
allurements of plenty engaged them to seek a permanent establishment on
the frontiers of the empire. Soon after the reign of Augustus, they
obliged the Dacians, who subsisted by fishing on the banks of the River
Teyss or Tibiscus, to retire into the hilly country, and to abandon to the
victorious Sarmatians the fertile plains of the Upper Hungary, which are
bounded by the course of the Danube and the semicircular enclosure of the
Carpathian Mountains. 41 In this advantageous position, they watched
or suspended the moment of attack, as they were provoked by injuries or
appeased by presents; they gradually acquired the skill of using more
dangerous weapons, and although the Sarmatians did not illustrate their
name by any memorable exploits, they occasionally assisted their eastern
and western neighbors, the Goths and the Germans, with a formidable body
of cavalry. They lived under the irregular aristocracy of their
chieftains: 42 but after they had received into their bosom
the fugitive Vandals, who yielded to the pressure of the Gothic power,
they seem to have chosen a king from that nation, and from the illustrious
race of the Astingi, who had formerly dwelt on the hores of the northern
ocean. 43
This motive of enmity must have inflamed the subjects of contention, which
perpetually arise on the confines of warlike and independent nations. The
Vandal princes were stimulated by fear and revenge; the Gothic kings
aspired to extend their dominion from the Euxine to the frontiers of
Germany; and the waters of the Maros, a small river which falls into the
Teyss, were stained with the blood of the contending Barbarians. After
some experience of the superior strength and numbers of their adversaries,
the Sarmatians implored the protection of the Roman monarch, who beheld
with pleasure the discord of the nations, but who was justly alarmed by
the progress of the Gothic arms. As soon as Constantine had declared
himself in favor of the weaker party, the haughty Araric, king of the
Goths, instead of expecting the attack of the legions, boldly passed the
Danube, and spread terror and devastation through the province of Mæsia.
To oppose the inroad of this destroying host, the aged emperor took the
field in person; but on this occasion either his conduct or his fortune
betrayed the glory which he had acquired in so many foreign and domestic
wars. He had the mortification of seeing his troops fly before an
inconsiderable detachment of the Barbarians, who pursued them to the edge
of their fortified camp, and obliged him to consult his safety by a
precipitate and ignominious retreat. 4311 The event of a
second and more successful action retrieved the honor of the Roman name;
and the powers of art and discipline prevailed, after an obstinate
contest, over the efforts of irregular valor. The broken army of the Goths
abandoned the field of battle, the wasted province, and the passage of the
Danube: and although the eldest of the sons of Constantine was permitted
to supply the place of his father, the merit of the victory, which
diffused universal joy, was ascribed to the auspicious counsels of the
emperor himself.
He contributed at least to improve this advantage, by his negotiations
with the free and warlike people of Chersonesus, 44 whose capital,
situate on the western coast of the Tauric or Crimæan peninsula, still
retained some vestiges of a Grecian colony, and was governed by a
perpetual magistrate, assisted by a council of senators, emphatically
styled the Fathers of the City.
The Chersonites were animated against the Goths, by the memory of the
wars, which, in the preceding century, they had maintained with unequal
forces against the invaders of their country. They were connected with the
Romans by the mutual benefits of commerce; as they were supplied from the
provinces of Asia with corn and manufactures, which they purchased with
their only productions, salt, wax, and hides. Obedient to the requisition
of Constantine, they prepared, under the conduct of their magistrate
Diogenes, a considerable army, of which the principal strength consisted
in cross-bows and military chariots. The speedy march and intrepid attack
of the Chersonites, by diverting the attention of the Goths, assisted the
operations of the Imperial generals. The Goths, vanquished on every side,
were driven into the mountains, where, in the course of a severe campaign,
above a hundred thousand were computed to have perished by cold and hunger.
Peace was at length granted to their humble supplications; the eldest son
of Araric was accepted as the most valuable hostage; and Constantine
endeavored to convince their chiefs, by a liberal distribution of honors
and rewards, how far the friendship of the Romans was preferable to their
enmity. In the expressions of his gratitude towards the faithful
Chersonites, the emperor was still more magnificent. The pride of the
nation was gratified by the splendid and almost royal decorations bestowed
on their magistrate and his successors. A perpetual exemption from all
duties was stipulated for their vessels which traded to the ports of the
Black Sea. A regular subsidy was promised, of iron, corn, oil, and of
every supply which could be useful either in peace or war. But it was
thought that the Sarmatians were sufficiently rewarded by their
deliverance from impending ruin; and the emperor, perhaps with too strict
an economy, deducted some part of the expenses of the war from the
customary gratifications which were allowed to that turbulent nation.
Exasperated by this apparent neglect, the Sarmatians soon forgot, with the
levity of barbarians, the services which they had so lately received, and
the dangers which still threatened their safety. Their inroads on the
territory of the empire provoked the indignation of Constantine to leave
them to their fate; and he no longer opposed the ambition of Geberic, a
renowned warrior, who had recently ascended the Gothic throne. Wisumar,
the Vandal king, whilst alone, and unassisted, he defended his dominions
with undaunted courage, was vanquished and slain in a decisive battle,
which swept away the flower of the Sarmatian youth. 4411
The remainder of the nation embraced the desperate expedient of arming
their slaves, a hardy race of hunters and herdsmen, by whose tumultuary
aid they revenged their defeat, and expelled the invader from their
confines. But they soon discovered that they had exchanged a foreign for a
domestic enemy, more dangerous and more implacable. Enraged by their
former servitude, elated by their present glory, the slaves, under the
name of Limigantes, claimed and usurped the possession of the country
which they had saved. Their masters, unable to withstand the ungoverned
fury of the populace, preferred the hardships of exile to the tyranny of
their servants. Some of the fugitive Sarmatians solicited a less
ignominious dependence, under the hostile standard of the Goths. A more
numerous band retired beyond the Carpathian Mountains, among the Quadi,
their German allies, and were easily admitted to share a superfluous waste
of uncultivated land. But the far greater part of the distressed nation
turned their eyes towards the fruitful provinces of Rome. Imploring the
protection and forgiveness of the emperor, they solemnly promised, as
subjects in peace, and as soldiers in war, the most inviolable fidelity to
the empire which should graciously receive them into its bosom. According
to the maxims adopted by Probus and his successors, the offers of this
barbarian colony were eagerly accepted; and a competent portion of lands
in the provinces of Pannonia, Thrace, Macedonia, and Italy, were
immediately assigned for the habitation and subsistence of three hundred
thousand Sarmatians. 45 4511
By chastising the pride of the Goths, and by accepting the homage of a
suppliant nation, Constantine asserted the majesty of the Roman empire;
and the ambassadors of Æthiopia, Persia, and the most remote countries of
India, congratulated the peace and prosperity of his government. 46
If he reckoned, among the favors of fortune, the death of his eldest son,
of his nephew, and perhaps of his wife, he enjoyed an uninterrupted flow
of private as well as public felicity, till the thirtieth year of his
reign; a period which none of his predecessors, since Augustus, had been
permitted to celebrate. Constantine survived that solemn festival about
ten months; and at the mature age of sixty-four, after a short illness, he
ended his memorable life at the palace of Aquyrion, in the suburbs of
Nicomedia, whither he had retired for the benefit of the air, and with the
hope of recruiting his exhausted strength by the use of the warm baths.
The excessive demonstrations of grief, or at least of mourning, surpassed
whatever had been practised on any former occasion. Notwithstanding the
claims of the senate and people of ancient Rome, the corpse of the
deceased emperor, according to his last request, was transported to the
city, which was destined to preserve the name and memory of its founder.
The body of Constantine adorned with the vain symbols of greatness, the
purple and diadem, was deposited on a golden bed in one of the apartments
of the palace, which for that purpose had been splendidly furnished and
illuminated. The forms of the court were strictly maintained. Every day,
at the appointed hours, the principal officers of the state, the army, and
the household, approaching the person of their sovereign with bended knees
and a composed countenance, offered their respectful homage as seriously
as if he had been still alive. From motives of policy, this theatrical
representation was for some time continued; nor could flattery neglect the
opportunity of remarking that Constantine alone, by the peculiar
indulgence of Heaven, had reigned after his death. 47
But this reign could subsist only in empty pageantry; and it was soon
discovered that the will of the most absolute monarch is seldom obeyed,
when his subjects have no longer anything to hope from his favor, or to
dread from his resentment. The same ministers and generals, who bowed with
such referential awe before the inanimate corpse of their deceased
sovereign, were engaged in secret consultations to exclude his two
nephews, Dalmatius and Hannibalianus, from the share which he had assigned
them in the succession of the empire. We are too imperfectly acquainted
with the court of Constantine to form any judgment of the real motives
which influenced the leaders of the conspiracy; unless we should suppose
that they were actuated by a spirit of jealousy and revenge against the
præfect Ablavius, a proud favorite, who had long directed the counsels
and abused the confidence of the late emperor. The arguments, by which
they solicited the concurrence of the soldiers and people, are of a more
obvious nature; and they might with decency, as well as truth, insist on
the superior rank of the children of Constantine, the danger of
multiplying the number of sovereigns, and the impending mischiefs which
threatened the republic, from the discord of so many rival princes, who
were not connected by the tender sympathy of fraternal affection. The
intrigue was conducted with zeal and secrecy, till a loud and unanimous
declaration was procured from the troops, that they would suffer none
except the sons of their lamented monarch to reign over the Roman empire.
48
The younger Dalmatius, who was united with his collateral relations by the
ties of friendship and interest, is allowed to have inherited a
considerable share of the abilities of the great Constantine; but, on this
occasion, he does not appear to have concerted any measure for supporting,
by arms, the just claims which himself and his royal brother derived from
the liberality of their uncle. Astonished and overwhelmed by the tide of
popular fury, they seem to have remained, without the power of flight or
of resistance, in the hands of their implacable enemies. Their fate was
suspended till the arrival of Constantius, the second, and perhaps the
most favored, of the sons of Constantine. 49
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And His Sons.—Part III.
The voice of the dying emperor had recommended the care of his funeral to
the piety of Constantius; and that prince, by the vicinity of his eastern
station, could easily prevent the diligence of his brothers, who resided
in their distant government of Italy and Gaul. As soon as he had taken
possession of the palace of Constantinople, his first care was to remove
the apprehensions of his kinsmen, by a solemn oath which he pledged for
their security. His next employment was to find some specious pretence
which might release his conscience from the obligation of an imprudent
promise. The arts of fraud were made subservient to the designs of
cruelty; and a manifest forgery was attested by a person of the most
sacred character. From the hands of the Bishop of Nicomedia, Constantius
received a fatal scroll, affirmed to be the genuine testament of his
father; in which the emperor expressed his suspicions that he had been
poisoned by his brothers; and conjured his sons to revenge his death, and
to consult their own safety, by the punishment of the guilty. 50
Whatever reasons might have been alleged by these unfortunate princes to
defend their life and honor against so incredible an accusation, they were
silenced by the furious clamors of the soldiers, who declared themselves,
at once, their enemies, their judges, and their executioners. The spirit,
and even the forms of legal proceedings were repeatedly violated in a
promiscuous massacre; which involved the two uncles of Constantius, seven
of his cousins, of whom Dalmatius and Hannibalianus were the most
illustrious, the Patrician Optatus, who had married a sister of the late
emperor, and the Præfect Ablavius, whose power and riches had inspired
him with some hopes of obtaining the purple. If it were necessary to
aggravate the horrors of this bloody scene, we might add, that Constantius
himself had espoused the daughter of his uncle Julius, and that he had
bestowed his sister in marriage on his cousin Hannibalianus. These
alliances, which the policy of Constantine, regardless of the public
prejudice, 51 had formed between the several branches of
the Imperial house, served only to convince mankind, that these princes
were as cold to the endearments of conjugal affection, as they were
insensible to the ties of consanguinity, and the moving entreaties of
youth and innocence. Of so numerous a family, Gallus and Julian alone, the
two youngest children of Julius Constantius, were saved from the hands of
the assassins, till their rage, satiated with slaughter, had in some
measure subsided. The emperor Constantius, who, in the absence of his
brothers, was the most obnoxious to guilt and reproach, discovered, on
some future occasions, a faint and transient remorse for those cruelties
which the perfidious counsels of his ministers, and the irresistible
violence of the troops, had extorted from his unexperienced youth. 52
The massacre of the Flavian race was succeeded by a new division of the
provinces; which was ratified in a personal interview of the three
brothers. Constantine, the eldest of the Cæsars, obtained, with a certain
preëminence of rank, the possession of the new capital, which bore his own
name and that of his father. Thrace, and the countries of the East, were
allotted for the patrimony of Constantius; and Constans was acknowledged
as the lawful sovereign of Italy, Africa, and the Western Illyricum. The
armies submitted to their hereditary right; and they condescended, after
some delay, to accept from the Roman senate the title of Augustus. When
they first assumed the reins of government, the eldest of these princes
was twenty-one, the second twenty, and the third only seventeen, years of
age. 53
While the martial nations of Europe followed the standards of his
brothers, Constantius, at the head of the effeminate troops of Asia, was
left to sustain the weight of the Persian war. At the decease of
Constantine, the throne of the East was filled by Sapor, son of Hormouz,
or Hormisdas, and grandson of Narses, who, after the victory of Galerius,
had humbly confessed the superiority of the Roman power. Although Sapor
was in the thirtieth year of his long reign, he was still in the vigor of
youth, as the date of his accession, by a very strange fatality, had
preceded that of his birth. The wife of Hormouz remained pregnant at the
time of her husband’s death; and the uncertainty of the sex, as well as of
the event, excited the ambitious hopes of the princes of the house of
Sassan. The apprehensions of civil war were at length removed, by the
positive assurance of the Magi, that the widow of Hormouz had conceived,
and would safely produce a son. Obedient to the voice of superstition, the
Persians prepared, without delay, the ceremony of his coronation.
A royal bed, on which the queen lay in state, was exhibited in the midst
of the palace; the diadem was placed on the spot, which might be supposed
to conceal the future heir of Artaxerxes, and the prostrate satraps adored
the majesty of their invisible and insensible sovereign. 54
If any credit can be given to this marvellous tale, which seems, however,
to be countenanced by the manners of the people, and by the extraordinary
duration of his reign, we must admire not only the fortune, but the
genius, of Sapor. In the soft, sequestered education of a Persian harem,
the royal youth could discover the importance of exercising the vigor of
his mind and body; and, by his personal merit, deserved a throne, on which
he had been seated, while he was yet unconscious of the duties and
temptations of absolute power. His minority was exposed to the almost
inevitable calamities of domestic discord; his capital was surprised and
plundered by Thair, a powerful king of Yemen, or Arabia; and the majesty
of the royal family was degraded by the captivity of a princess, the
sister of the deceased king. But as soon as Sapor attained the age of
manhood, the presumptuous Thair, his nation, and his country, fell beneath
the first effort of the young warrior; who used his victory with so
judicious a mixture of rigor and clemency, that he obtained from the fears
and gratitude of the Arabs the title of Dhoulacnaf, or protector of the
nation. 55 5511
The ambition of the Persian, to whom his enemies ascribe the virtues of a
soldier and a statesman, was animated by the desire of revenging the
disgrace of his fathers, and of wresting from the hands of the Romans the
five provinces beyond the Tigris. The military fame of Constantine, and
the real or apparent strength of his government, suspended the attack; and
while the hostile conduct of Sapor provoked the resentment, his artful
negotiations amused the patience of the Imperial court. The death of
Constantine was the signal of war, 56 and the actual
condition of the Syrian and Armenian frontier seemed to encourage the
Persians by the prospect of a rich spoil and an easy conquest. The example
of the massacres of the palace diffused a spirit of licentiousness and
sedition among the troops of the East, who were no longer restrained by
their habits of obedience to a veteran commander. By the prudence of
Constantius, who, from the interview with his brothers in Pannonia,
immediately hastened to the banks of the Euphrates, the legions were
gradually restored to a sense of duty and discipline; but the season of
anarchy had permitted Sapor to form the siege of Nisibis, and to occupy
several of the mo st important fortresses of Mesopotamia. 57
In Armenia, the renowned Tiridates had long enjoyed the peace and glory
which he deserved by his valor and fidelity to the cause of Rome. 5711
The firm alliance which he maintained with Constantine was productive of
spiritual as well as of temporal benefits; by the conversion of Tiridates,
the character of a saint was applied to that of a hero, the Christian
faith was preached and established from the Euphrates to the shores of the
Caspian, and Armenia was attached to the empire by the double ties of
policy and religion. But as many of the Armenian nobles still refused to
abandon the plurality of their gods and of their wives, the public
tranquillity was disturbed by a discontented faction, which insulted the
feeble age of their sovereign, and impatiently expected the hour of his
death. He died at length after a reign of fifty-six years, and the fortune
of the Armenian monarchy expired with Tiridates. His lawful heir was
driven into exile, the Christian priests were either murdered or expelled
from their churches, the barbarous tribes of Albania were solicited to
descend from their mountains; and two of the most powerful governors,
usurping the ensigns or the powers of royalty, implored the assistance of
Sapor, and opened the gates of their cities to the Persian garrisons. The
Christian party, under the guidance of the Archbishop of Artaxata, the
immediate successor of St. Gregory the Illuminator, had recourse to the
piety of Constantius. After the troubles had continued about three years,
Antiochus, one of the officers of the household, executed with success the
Imperial commission of restoring Chosroes, 5712 the son of
Tiridates, to the throne of his fathers, of distributing honors and
rewards among the faithful servants of the house of Arsaces, and of
proclaiming a general amnesty, which was accepted by the greater part of
the rebellious satraps. But the Romans derived more honor than advantage
from this revolution. Chosroes was a prince of a puny stature and a
pusillanimous spirit. Unequal to the fatigues of war, averse to the
society of mankind, he withdrew from his capital to a retired palace,
which he built on the banks of the River Eleutherus, and in the centre of
a shady grove; where he consumed his vacant hours in the rural sports of
hunting and hawking. To secure this inglorious ease, he submitted to the
conditions of peace which Sapor condescended to impose; the payment of an
annual tribute, and the restitution of the fertile province of Atropatene,
which the courage of Tiridates, and the victorious arms of Galerius, had
annexed to the Armenian monarchy. 58 5811
During the long period of the reign of Constantius, the provinces of the
East were afflicted by the calamities of the Persian war. 5813
The irregular incursions of the light troops alternately spread terror and
devastation beyond the Tigris and beyond the Euphrates, from the gates of
Ctesiphon to those of Antioch; and this active service was performed by
the Arabs of the desert, who were divided in their interest and
affections; some of their independent chiefs being enlisted in the party
of Sapor, whilst others had engaged their doubtful fidelity to the
emperor. 59 The more grave and important operations of
the war were conducted with equal vigor; and the armies of Rome and Persia
encountered each other in nine bloody fields, in two of which Constantius
himself commanded in person. 60 The event of the day
was most commonly adverse to the Romans, but in the battle of Singara,
their imprudent valor had almost achieved a signal and decisive victory.
The stationary troops of Singara 6011 retired on the
approach of Sapor, who passed the Tigris over three bridges, and occupied
near the village of Hilleh an advantageous camp, which, by the labor of
his numerous pioneers, he surrounded in one day with a deep ditch and a
lofty rampart. His formidable host, when it was drawn out in order of
battle, covered the banks of the river, the adjacent heights, and the
whole extent of a plain of above twelve miles, which separated the two
armies. Both were alike impatient to engage; but the Barbarians, after a
slight resistance, fled in disorder; unable to resist, or desirous to
weary, the strength of the heavy legions, who, fainting with heat and
thirst, pursued them across the plain, and cut in pieces a line of
cavalry, clothed in complete armor, which had been posted before the gates
of the camp to protect their retreat. Constantius, who was hurried along
in the pursuit, attempted, without effect, to restrain the ardor of his
troops, by representing to them the dangers of the approaching night, and
the certainty of completing their success with the return of day. As they
depended much more on their own valor than on the experience or the
abilities of their chief, they silenced by their clamors his timid
remonstrances; and rushing with fury to the charge, filled up the ditch,
broke down the rampart, and dispersed themselves through the tents to
recruit their exhausted strength, and to enjoy the rich harvest of their
labors. But the prudent Sapor had watched the moment of victory. His army,
of which the greater part, securely posted on the heights, had been
spectators of the action, advanced in silence, and under the shadow of the
night; and his Persian archers, guided by the illumination of the camp,
poured a shower of arrows on a disarmed and licentious crowd. The
sincerity of history 61 declares, that the Romans were vanquished
with a dreadful slaughter, and that the flying remnant of the legions was
exposed to the most intolerable hardships. Even the tenderness of
panegyric, confessing that the glory of the emperor was sullied by the
disobedience of his soldiers, chooses to draw a veil over the
circumstances of this melancholy retreat. Yet one of those venal orators,
so jealous of the fame of Constantius, relates, with amazing coolness, an
act of such incredible cruelty, as, in the judgment of posterity, must
imprint a far deeper stain on the honor of the Imperial name. The son of
Sapor, the heir of his crown, had been made a captive in the Persian camp.
The unhappy youth, who might have excited the compassion of the most
savage enemy, was scourged, tortured, and publicly executed by the inhuman
Romans. 62
Whatever advantages might attend the arms of Sapor in the field, though
nine repeated victories diffused among the nations the fame of his valor
and conduct, he could not hope to succeed in the execution of his designs,
while the fortified towns of Mesopotamia, and, above all, the strong and
ancient city of Nisibis, remained in the possession of the Romans. In the
space of twelve years, Nisibis, which, since the time of Lucullus, had
been deservedly esteemed the bulwark of the East, sustained three
memorable sieges against the power of Sapor; and the disappointed monarch,
after urging his attacks above sixty, eighty, and a hundred days, was
thrice repulsed with loss and ignominy. 63 This large and
populous city was situate about two days’ journey from the Tigris, in the
midst of a pleasant and fertile plain at the foot of Mount Masius. A
treble enclosure of brick walls was defended by a deep ditch; 64
and the intrepid resistance of Count Lucilianus, and his garrison, was
seconded by the desperate courage of the people. The citizens of Nisibis
were animated by the exhortations of their bishop, 65 inured to arms by the
presence of danger, and convinced of the intentions of Sapor to plant a
Persian colony in their room, and to lead them away into distant and
barbarous captivity. The event of the two former sieges elated their
confidence, and exasperated the haughty spirit of the Great King, who
advanced a third time towards Nisibis, at the head of the united forces of
Persia and India. The ordinary machines, invented to batter or undermine
the walls, were rendered ineffectual by the superior skill of the Romans;
and many days had vainly elapsed, when Sapor embraced a resolution worthy
of an eastern monarch, who believed that the elements themselves were
subject to his power. At the stated season of the melting of the snows in
Armenia, the River Mygdonius, which divides the plain and the city of
Nisibis, forms, like the Nile, 66 an inundation over
the adjacent country. By the labor of the Persians, the course of the
river was stopped below the town, and the waters were confined on every
side by solid mounds of earth. On this artificial lake, a fleet of armed
vessels filled with soldiers, and with engines which discharged stones of
five hundred pounds weight, advanced in order of battle, and engaged,
almost upon a level, the troops which defended the ramparts. 6611
The irresistible force of the waters was alternately fatal to the
contending parties, till at length a portion of the walls, unable to
sustain the accumulated pressure, gave way at once, and exposed an ample
breach of one hundred and fifty feet. The Persians were instantly driven
to the assault, and the fate of Nisibis depended on the event of the day.
The heavy-armed cavalry, who led the van of a deep column, were
embarrassed in the mud, and great numbers were drowned in the unseen holes
which had been filled by the rushing waters. The elephants, made furious
by their wounds, increased the disorder, and trampled down thousands of
the Persian archers. The Great King, who, from an exalted throne, beheld
the misfortunes of his arms, sounded, with reluctant indignation, the
signal of the retreat, and suspended for some hours the prosecution of the
attack. But the vigilant citizens improved the opportunity of the night;
and the return of day discovered a new wall of six feet in height, rising
every moment to fill up the interval of the breach. Notwithstanding the
disappointment of his hopes, and the loss of more than twenty thousand
men, Sapor still pressed the reduction of Nisibis, with an obstinate
firmness, which could have yielded only to the necessity of defending the
eastern provinces of Persia against a formidable invasion of the
Massagetæ. 67 Alarmed by this intelligence, he hastily
relinquished the siege, and marched with rapid diligence from the banks of
the Tigris to those of the Oxus. The danger and difficulties of the
Scythian war engaged him soon afterwards to conclude, or at least to
observe, a truce with the Roman emperor, which was equally grateful to
both princes; as Constantius himself, after the death of his two brothers,
was involved, by the revolutions of the West, in a civil contest, which
required and seemed to exceed the most vigorous exertion of his undivided
strength.
After the partition of the empire, three years had scarcely elapsed before
the sons of Constantine seemed impatient to convince mankind that they
were incapable of contenting themselves with the dominions which they were
unqualified to govern. The eldest of those princes soon complained, that
he was defrauded of his just proportion of the spoils of their murdered
kinsmen; and though he might yield to the superior guilt and merit of
Constantius, he exacted from Constans the cession of the African
provinces, as an equivalent for the rich countries of Macedonia and
Greece, which his brother had acquired by the death of Dalmatius. The want
of sincerity, which Constantine experienced in a tedious and fruitless
negotiation, exasperated the fierceness of his temper; and he eagerly
listened to those favorites, who suggested to him that his honor, as well
as his interest, was concerned in the prosecution of the quarrel. At the
head of a tumultuary band, suited for rapine rather than for conquest, he
suddenly broke onto the dominions of Constans, by the way of the Julian
Alps, and the country round Aquileia felt the first effects of his
resentment. The measures of Constans, who then resided in Dacia, were
directed with more prudence and ability. On the news of his brother’s
invasion, he detached a select and disciplined body of his Illyrian
troops, proposing to follow them in person, with the remainder of his
forces. But the conduct of his lieutenants soon terminated the unnatural
contest.
By the artful appearances of flight, Constantine was betrayed into an
ambuscade, which had been concealed in a wood, where the rash youth, with
a few attendants, was surprised, surrounded, and slain. His body, after it
had been found in the obscure stream of the Alsa, obtained the honors of
an Imperial sepulchre; but his provinces transferred their allegiance to
the conqueror, who, refusing to admit his elder brother Constantius to any
share in these new acquisitions, maintained the undisputed possession of
more than two thirds of the Roman empire. 68
Chapter XVIII: Character Of Constantine And His Sons.—Part IV.
The fate of Constans himself was delayed about ten years longer, and the
revenge of his brother’s death was reserved for the more ignoble hand of a
domestic traitor. The pernicious tendency of the system introduced by
Constantine was displayed in the feeble administration of his sons; who,
by their vices and weakness, soon lost the esteem and affections of their
people. The pride assumed by Constans, from the unmerited success of his
arms, was rendered more contemptible by his want of abilities and
application. His fond partiality towards some German captives,
distinguished only by the charms of youth, was an object of scandal to the
people; 69 and Magnentius, an ambitious soldier, who was
himself of Barbarian extraction, was encouraged by the public discontent
to assert the honor of the Roman name. 70 The chosen bands of
Jovians and Herculians, who acknowledged Magnentius as their leader,
maintained the most respectable and important station in the Imperial
camp. The friendship of Marcellinus, count of the sacred largesses,
supplied with a liberal hand the means of seduction. The soldiers were
convinced by the most specious arguments, that the republic summoned them
to break the bonds of hereditary servitude; and, by the choice of an
active and vigilant prince, to reward the same virtues which had raised
the ancestors of the degenerate Constans from a private condition to the
throne of the world. As soon as the conspiracy was ripe for execution,
Marcellinus, under the pretence of celebrating his son’s birthday, gave a
splendid entertainment to the illustrious and honorable persons of the
court of Gaul, which then resided in the city of Autun. The intemperance
of the feast was artfully protracted till a very late hour of the night;
and the unsuspecting guests were tempted to indulge themselves in a
dangerous and guilty freedom of conversation. On a sudden the doors were
thrown open, and Magnentius, who had retired for a few moments, returned
into the apartment, invested with the diadem and purple. The conspirators
instantly saluted him with the titles of Augustus and Emperor. The
surprise, the terror, the intoxication, the ambitious hopes, and the
mutual ignorance of the rest of the assembly, prompted them to join their
voices to the general acclamation. The guards hastened to take the oath of
fidelity; the gates of the town were shut; and before the dawn of day,
Magnentius became master of the troops and treasure of the palace and city
of Autun. By his secrecy and diligence he entertained some hopes of
surprising the person of Constans, who was pursuing in the adjacent forest
his favorite amusement of hunting, or perhaps some pleasures of a more
private and criminal nature. The rapid progress of fame allowed him,
however, an instant for flight, though the desertion of his soldiers and
subjects deprived him of the power of resistance. Before he could reach a
seaport in Spain, where he intended to embark, he was overtaken near
Helena, 71 at the foot of the Pyrenees, by a party of
light cavalry, whose chief, regardless of the sanctity of a temple,
executed his commission by the murder of the son of Constantine. 72
As soon as the death of Constans had decided this easy but important
revolution, the example of the court of Autun was imitated by the
provinces of the West. The authority of Magnentius was acknowledged
through the whole extent of the two great præfectures of Gaul and Italy;
and the usurper prepared, by every act of oppression, to collect a
treasure, which might discharge the obligation of an immense donative, and
supply the expenses of a civil war. The martial countries of Illyricum,
from the Danube to the extremity of Greece, had long obeyed the government
of Vetranio, an aged general, beloved for the simplicity of his manners,
and who had acquired some reputation by his experience and services in
war. 73
Attached by habit, by duty, and by gratitude, to the house of Constantine,
he immediately gave the strongest assurances to the only surviving son of
his late master, that he would expose, with unshaken fidelity, his person
and his troops, to inflict a just revenge on the traitors of Gaul. But the
legions of Vetranio were seduced, rather than provoked, by the example of
rebellion; their leader soon betrayed a want of firmness, or a want of
sincerity; and his ambition derived a specious pretence from the
approbation of the princess Constantina. That cruel and aspiring woman,
who had obtained from the great Constantine, her father, the rank of
Augusta, placed the diadem with her own hands on the head of the Illyrian
general; and seemed to expect from his victory the accomplishment of those
unbounded hopes, of which she had been disappointed by the death of her
husband Hannibalianus. Perhaps it was without the consent of Constantina,
that the new emperor formed a necessary, though dishonorable, alliance
with the usurper of the West, whose purple was so recently stained with
her brother’s blood. 74
The intelligence of these important events, which so deeply affected the
honor and safety of the Imperial house, recalled the arms of Constantius
from the inglorious prosecution of the Persian war. He recommended the
care of the East to his lieutenants, and afterwards to his cousin Gallus,
whom he raised from a prison to a throne; and marched towards Europe, with
a mind agitated by the conflict of hope and fear, of grief and
indignation. On his arrival at Heraclea in Thrace, the emperor gave
audience to the ambassadors of Magnentius and Vetranio. The first author
of the conspiracy Marcellinus, who in some measure had bestowed the purple
on his new master, boldly accepted this dangerous commission; and his
three colleagues were selected from the illustrious personages of the
state and army. These deputies were instructed to soothe the resentment,
and to alarm the fears, of Constantius. They were empowered to offer him
the friendship and alliance of the western princes, to cement their union
by a double marriage; of Constantius with the daughter of Magnentius, and
of Magnentius himself with the ambitious Constantina; and to acknowledge
in the treaty the preëminence of rank, which might justly be claimed by
the emperor of the East. Should pride and mistaken piety urge him to
refuse these equitable conditions, the ambassadors were ordered to
expatiate on the inevitable ruin which must attend his rashness, if he
ventured to provoke the sovereigns of the West to exert their superior
strength; and to employ against him that valor, those abilities, and those
legions, to which the house of Constantine had been indebted for so many
triumphs. Such propositions and such arguments appeared to deserve the
most serious attention; the answer of Constantius was deferred till the
next day; and as he had reflected on the importance of justifying a civil
war in the opinion of the people, he thus addressed his council, who
listened with real or affected credulity: “Last night,” said he, “after I
retired to rest, the shade of the great Constantine, embracing the corpse
of my murdered brother, rose before my eyes; his well-known voice awakened
me to revenge, forbade me to despair of the republic, and assured me of
the success and immortal glory which would crown the justice of my arms.”
The authority of such a vision, or rather of the prince who alleged it,
silenced every doubt, and excluded all negotiation. The ignominious terms
of peace were rejected with disdain. One of the ambassadors of the tyrant
was dismissed with the haughty answer of Constantius; his colleagues, as
unworthy of the privileges of the law of nations, were put in irons; and
the contending powers prepared to wage an implacable war. 75
Such was the conduct, and such perhaps was the duty, of the brother of
Constans towards the perfidious usurper of Gaul. The situation and
character of Vetranio admitted of milder measures; and the policy of the
Eastern emperor was directed to disunite his antagonists, and to separate
the forces of Illyricum from the cause of rebellion. It was an easy task
to deceive the frankness and simplicity of Vetranio, who, fluctuating some
time between the opposite views of honor and interest, displayed to the
world the insincerity of his temper, and was insensibly engaged in the
snares of an artful negotiation. Constantius acknowledged him as a
legitimate and equal colleague in the empire, on condition that he would
renounce his disgraceful alliance with Magnentius, and appoint a place of
interview on the frontiers of their respective provinces; where they might
pledge their friendship by mutual vows of fidelity, and regulate by common
consent the future operations of the civil war. In consequence of this
agreement, Vetranio advanced to the city of Sardica, 76
at the head of twenty thousand horse, and of a more numerous body of
infantry; a power so far superior to the forces of Constantius, that the
Illyrian emperor appeared to command the life and fortunes of his rival,
who, depending on the success of his private negotiations, had seduced the
troops, and undermined the throne, of Vetranio. The chiefs, who had
secretly embraced the party of Constantius, prepared in his favor a public
spectacle, calculated to discover and inflame the passions of the
multitude. 77 The united armies were commanded to assemble
in a large plain near the city. In the centre, according to the rules of
ancient discipline, a military tribunal, or rather scaffold, was erected,
from whence the emperors were accustomed, on solemn and important
occasions, to harangue the troops. The well-ordered ranks of Romans and
Barbarians, with drawn swords, or with erected spears, the squadrons of
cavalry, and the cohorts of infantry, distinguished by the variety of
their arms and ensigns, formed an immense circle round the tribunal; and
the attentive silence which they preserved was sometimes interrupted by
loud bursts of clamor or of applause. In the presence of this formidable
assembly, the two emperors were called upon to explain the situation of
public affairs: the precedency of rank was yielded to the royal birth of
Constantius; and though he was indifferently skilled in the arts of
rhetoric, he acquitted himself, under these difficult circumstances, with
firmness, dexterity, and eloquence. The first part of his oration seemed
to be pointed only against the tyrant of Gaul; but while he tragically
lamented the cruel murder of Constans, he insinuated, that none, except a
brother, could claim a right to the succession of his brother. He
displayed, with some complacency, the glories of his Imperial race; and
recalled to the memory of the troops the valor, the triumphs, the
liberality of the great Constantine, to whose sons they had engaged their
allegiance by an oath of fidelity, which the ingratitude of his most
favored servants had tempted them to violate. The officers, who surrounded
the tribunal, and were instructed to act their part in this extraordinary
scene, confessed the irresistible power of reason and eloquence, by
saluting the emperor Constantius as their lawful sovereign. The contagion
of loyalty and repentance was communicated from rank to rank; till the
plain of Sardica resounded with the universal acclamation of “Away with
these upstart usurpers! Long life and victory to the son of Constantine!
Under his banners alone we will fight and conquer.” The shout of
thousands, their menacing gestures, the fierce clashing of their arms,
astonished and subdued the courage of Vetranio, who stood, amidst the
defection of his followers, in anxious and silent suspense. Instead of
embracing the last refuge of generous despair, he tamely submitted to his
fate; and taking the diadem from his head, in the view of both armies fell
prostrate at the feet of his conqueror. Constantius used his victory with
prudence and moderation; and raising from the ground the aged suppliant,
whom he affected to style by the endearing name of Father, he gave him his
hand to descend from the throne. The city of Prusa was assigned for the
exile or retirement of the abdicated monarch, who lived six years in the
enjoyment of ease and affluence. He often expressed his grateful sense of
the goodness of Constantius, and, with a very amiable simplicity, advised
his benefactor to resign the sceptre of the world, and to seek for content
(where alone it could be found) in the peaceful obscurity of a private
condition. 78
The behavior of Constantius on this memorable occasion was celebrated with
some appearance of justice; and his courtiers compared the studied
orations which a Pericles or a Demosthenes addressed to the populace of
Athens, with the victorious eloquence which had persuaded an armed
multitude to desert and depose the object of their partial choice. 79
The approaching contest with Magnentius was of a more serious and bloody
kind. The tyrant advanced by rapid marches to encounter Constantius, at
the head of a numerous army, composed of Gauls and Spaniards, of Franks
and Saxons; of those provincials who supplied the strength of the legions,
and of those barbarians who were dreaded as the most formidable enemies of
the republic. The fertile plains 80 of the Lower
Pannonia, between the Drave, the Save, and the Danube, presented a
spacious theatre; and the operations of the civil war were protracted
during the summer months by the skill or timidity of the combatants. 81
Constantius had declared his intention of deciding the quarrel in the
fields of Cibalis, a name that would animate his troops by the remembrance
of the victory, which, on the same auspicious ground, had been obtained by
the arms of his father Constantine. Yet by the impregnable fortifications
with which the emperor encompassed his camp, he appeared to decline,
rather than to invite, a general engagement.
It was the object of Magnentius to tempt or to compel his adversary to
relinquish this advantageous position; and he employed, with that view,
the various marches, evolutions, and stratagems, which the knowledge of
the art of war could suggest to an experienced officer. He carried by
assault the important town of Siscia; made an attack on the city of
Sirmium, which lay in the rear of the Imperial camp, attempted to force a
passage over the Save into the eastern provinces of Illyricum; and cut in
pieces a numerous detachment, which he had allured into the narrow passes
of Adarne. During the greater part of the summer, the tyrant of Gaul
showed himself master of the field. The troops of Constantius were
harassed and dispirited; his reputation declined in the eye of the world;
and his pride condescended to solicit a treaty of peace, which would have
resigned to the assassin of Constans the sovereignty of the provinces
beyond the Alps. These offers were enforced by the eloquence of Philip the
Imperial ambassador; and the council as well as the army of Magnentius
were disposed to accept them. But the haughty usurper, careless of the
remonstrances of his friends, gave orders that Philip should be detained
as a captive, or, at least, as a hostage; while he despatched an officer
to reproach Constantius with the weakness of his reign, and to insult him
by the promise of a pardon if he would instantly abdicate the purple.
“That he should confide in the justice of his cause, and the protection of
an avenging Deity,” was the only answer which honor permitted the emperor
to return. But he was so sensible of the difficulties of his situation,
that he no longer dared to retaliate the indignity which had been offered
to his representative. The negotiation of Philip was not, however,
ineffectual, since he determined Sylvanus the Frank, a general of merit
and reputation, to desert with a considerable body of cavalry, a few days
before the battle of Mursa.
The city of Mursa, or Essek, celebrated in modern times for a bridge of
boats, five miles in length, over the River Drave, and the adjacent
morasses, 82 has been always considered as a place of
importance in the wars of Hungary. Magnentius, directing his march towards
Mursa, set fire to the gates, and, by a sudden assault, had almost scaled
the walls of the town. The vigilance of the garrison extinguished the
flames; the approach of Constantius left him no time to continue the
operations of the siege; and the emperor soon removed the only obstacle
that could embarrass his motions, by forcing a body of troops which had
taken post in an adjoining amphitheatre. The field of battle round Mursa
was a naked and level plain: on this ground the army of Constantius
formed, with the Drave on their right; while their left, either from the
nature of their disposition, or from the superiority of their cavalry,
extended far beyond the right flank of Magnentius. 83 The troops on both
sides remained under arms, in anxious expectation, during the greatest
part of the morning; and the son of Constantine, after animating his
soldiers by an eloquent speech, retired into a church at some distance
from the field of battle, and committed to his generals the conduct of
this decisive day. 84 They deserved his confidence by the valor and
military skill which they exerted. They wisely began the action upon the
left; and advancing their whole wing of cavalry in an oblique line, they
suddenly wheeled it on the right flank of the enemy, which was unprepared
to resist the impetuosity of their charge. But the Romans of the West soon
rallied, by the habits of discipline; and the Barbarians of Germany
supported the renown of their national bravery. The engagement soon became
general; was maintained with various and singular turns of fortune; and
scarcely ended with the darkness of the night. The signal victory which
Constantius obtained is attributed to the arms of his cavalry. His
cuirassiers are described as so many massy statues of steel, glittering
with their scaly armor, and breaking with their ponderous lances the firm
array of the Gallic legions. As soon as the legions gave way, the lighter
and more active squadrons of the second line rode sword in hand into the
intervals, and completed the disorder. In the mean while, the huge bodies
of the Germans were exposed almost naked to the dexterity of the Oriental
archers; and whole troops of those Barbarians were urged by anguish and
despair to precipitate themselves into the broad and rapid stream of the
Drave. 85 The number of the slain was computed at
fifty-four thousand men, and the slaughter of the conquerors was more
considerable than that of the vanquished; 86 a circumstance which
proves the obstinacy of the contest, and justifies the observation of an
ancient writer, that the forces of the empire were consumed in the fatal
battle of Mursa, by the loss of a veteran army, sufficient to defend the
frontiers, or to add new triumphs to the glory of Rome. 87
Notwithstanding the invectives of a servile orator, there is not the least
reason to believe that the tyrant deserted his own standard in the
beginning of the engagement. He seems to have displayed the virtues of a
general and of a soldier till the day was irrecoverably lost, and his camp
in the possession of the enemy. Magnentius then consulted his safety, and
throwing away the Imperial ornaments, escaped with some difficulty from
the pursuit of the light horse, who incessantly followed his rapid flight
from the banks of the Drave to the foot of the Julian Alps. 88
The approach of winter supplied the indolence of Constantius with specious
reasons for deferring the prosecution of the war till the ensuing spring.
Magnentius had fixed his residence in the city of Aquileia, and showed a
seeming resolution to dispute the passage of the mountains and morasses
which fortified the confines of the Venetian province. The surprisal of a
castle in the Alps by the secret march of the Imperialists, could scarcely
have determined him to relinquish the possession of Italy, if the
inclinations of the people had supported the cause of their tyrant. 89
But the memory of the cruelties exercised by his ministers, after the
unsuccessful revolt of Nepotian, had left a deep impression of horror and
resentment on the minds of the Romans. That rash youth, the son of the
princess Eutropia, and the nephew of Constantine, had seen with
indignation the sceptre of the West usurped by a perfidious barbarian.
Arming a desperate troop of slaves and gladiators, he overpowered the
feeble guard of the domestic tranquillity of Rome, received the homage of
the senate, and assuming the title of Augustus, precariously reigned
during a tumult of twenty-eight days. The march of some regular forces put
an end to his ambitious hopes: the rebellion was extinguished in the blood
of Nepotian, of his mother Eutropia, and of his adherents; and the
proscription was extended to all who had contracted a fatal alliance with
the name and family of Constantine. 90 But as soon as
Constantius, after the battle of Mursa, became master of the sea-coast of
Dalmatia, a band of noble exiles, who had ventured to equip a fleet in
some harbor of the Adriatic, sought protection and revenge in his
victorious camp. By their secret intelligence with their countrymen, Rome
and the Italian cities were persuaded to display the banners of
Constantius on their walls. The grateful veterans, enriched by the
liberality of the father, signalized their gratitude and loyalty to the
son. The cavalry, the legions, and the auxiliaries of Italy, renewed their
oath of allegiance to Constantius; and the usurper, alarmed by the general
desertion, was compelled, with the remains of his faithful troops, to
retire beyond the Alps into the provinces of Gaul. The detachments,
however, which were ordered either to press or to intercept the flight of
Magnentius, conducted themselves with the usual imprudence of success; and
allowed him, in the plains of Pavia, an opportunity of turning on his
pursuers, and of gratifying his despair by the carnage of a useless
victory. 91
The pride of Magnentius was reduced, by repeated misfortunes, to sue, and
to sue in vain, for peace. He first despatched a senator, in whose
abilities he confided, and afterwards several bishops, whose holy
character might obtain a more favorable audience, with the offer of
resigning the purple, and the promise of devoting the remainder of his
life to the service of the emperor. But Constantius, though he granted
fair terms of pardon and reconciliation to all who abandoned the standard
of rebellion, 92 avowed his inflexible resolution to inflict a
just punishment on the crimes of an assassin, whom he prepared to
overwhelm on every side by the effort of his victorious arms. An Imperial
fleet acquired the easy possession of Africa and Spain, confirmed the
wavering faith of the Moorish nations, and landed a considerable force,
which passed the Pyrenees, and advanced towards Lyons, the last and fatal
station of Magnentius. 93 The temper of the tyrant, which was never
inclined to clemency, was urged by distress to exercise every act of
oppression which could extort an immediate supply from the cities of Gaul.
94
Their patience was at length exhausted; and Treves, the seat of Prætorian
government, gave the signal of revolt, by shutting her gates against
Decentius, who had been raised by his brother to the rank either of Cæsar
or of Augustus. 95 From Treves, Decentius was obliged to retire
to Sens, where he was soon surrounded by an army of Germans, whom the
pernicious arts of Constantius had introduced into the civil dissensions
of Rome. 96 In the mean time, the Imperial troops forced
the passages of the Cottian Alps, and in the bloody combat of Mount
Seleucus irrevocably fixed the title of rebels on the party of Magnentius.
97
He was unable to bring another army into the field; the fidelity of his
guards was corrupted; and when he appeared in public to animate them by
his exhortations, he was saluted with a unanimous shout of “Long live the
emperor Constantius!” The tyrant, who perceived that they were preparing
to deserve pardon and rewards by the sacrifice of the most obnoxious
criminal, prevented their design by falling on his sword; 98
a death more easy and more honorable than he could hope to obtain from the
hands of an enemy, whose revenge would have been colored with the specious
pretence of justice and fraternal piety. The example of suicide was
imitated by Decentius, who strangled himself on the news of his brother’s
death. The author of the conspiracy, Marcellinus, had long since
disappeared in the battle of Mursa, 99 and the public
tranquillity was confirmed by the execution of the surviving leaders of a
guilty and unsuccessful faction. A severe inquisition was extended over
all who, either from choice or from compulsion, had been involved in the
cause of rebellion. Paul, surnamed Catena from his superior skill in the
judicial exercise of tyranny, 9911 was sent to
explore the latent remains of the conspiracy in the remote province of
Britain. The honest indignation expressed by Martin, vice-præfect of the
island, was interpreted as an evidence of his own guilt; and the governor
was urged to the necessity of turning against his breast the sword with
which he had been provoked to wound the Imperial minister. The most
innocent subjects of the West were exposed to exile and confiscation, to
death and torture; and as the timid are always cruel, the mind of
Constantius was inaccessible to mercy. 100
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part I.
Constantius Sole Emperor.—Elevation And Death Of Gallus.—
Danger And Elevation Of Julian.—Sarmatian And Persian
Wars.—Victories Of Julian In Gaul.
The divided provinces of the empire were again united by the victory of
Constantius; but as that feeble prince was destitute of personal merit,
either in peace or war; as he feared his generals, and distrusted his
ministers; the triumph of his arms served only to establish the reign of
the eunuchs over the Roman world. Those unhappy beings, the ancient
production of Oriental jealousy and despotism, 1 were introduced into
Greece and Rome by the contagion of Asiatic luxury. 2 Their progress was
rapid; and the eunuchs, who, in the time of Augustus, had been abhorred,
as the monstrous retinue of an Egyptian queen, 3 were gradually admitted
into the families of matrons, of senators, and of the emperors themselves.
4
Restrained by the severe edicts of Domitian and Nerva, cherished by the
pride of Diocletian, reduced to an humble station by the prudence of
Constantine, 6 they multiplied in the palaces of his
degenerate sons, and insensibly acquired the knowledge, and at length the
direction, of the secret councils of Constantius. The aversion and
contempt which mankind had so uniformly entertained for that imperfect
species, appears to have degraded their character, and to have rendered
them almost as incapable as they were supposed to be, of conceiving any
generous sentiment, or of performing any worthy action. 7 But
the eunuchs were skilled in the arts of flattery and intrigue; and they
alternately governed the mind of Constantius by his fears, his indolence,
and his vanity. 8 Whilst he viewed in a deceitful mirror the fair
appearance of public prosperity, he supinely permitted them to intercept
the complaints of the injured provinces, to accumulate immense treasures
by the sale of justice and of honors; to disgrace the most important
dignities, by the promotion of those who had purchased at their hands the
powers of oppression, 9 and to gratify their resentment against the few
independent spirits, who arrogantly refused to solicit the protection of
slaves. Of these slaves the most distinguished was the chamberlain
Eusebius, who ruled the monarch and the palace with such absolute sway,
that Constantius, according to the sarcasm of an impartial historian,
possessed some credit with this haughty favorite. 10 By his artful
suggestions, the emperor was persuaded to subscribe the condemnation of
the unfortunate Gallus, and to add a new crime to the long list of
unnatural murders which pollute the honor of the house of Constantine.
Ut Spado vincebat Capitolia Nostra
Posides.
Juvenal. Sat. xiv.]
When the two nephews of Constantine, Gallus and Julian, were saved from
the fury of the soldiers, the former was about twelve, and the latter
about six, years of age; and, as the eldest was thought to be of a sickly
constitution, they obtained with the less difficulty a precarious and
dependent life, from the affected pity of Constantius, who was sensible
that the execution of these helpless orphans would have been esteemed, by
all mankind, an act of the most deliberate cruelty. 11
Different cities of Ionia and Bithynia were assigned for the places of
their exile and education; but as soon as their growing years excited the
jealousy of the emperor, he judged it more prudent to secure those unhappy
youths in the strong castle of Macellum, near Cæsarea. The treatment
which they experienced during a six years’ confinement, was partly such as
they could hope from a careful guardian, and partly such as they might
dread from a suspicious tyrant. 12 Their prison was an
ancient palace, the residence of the kings of Cappadocia; the situation
was pleasant, the buildings stately, the enclosure spacious. They
pursued their studies, and practised their exercises, under the tuition of
the most skilful masters; and the numerous household appointed to attend,
or rather to guard, the nephews of Constantine, was not unworthy of the
dignity of their birth. But they could not disguise to themselves that
they were deprived of fortune, of freedom, and of safety; secluded from
the society of all whom they could trust or esteem, and condemned to pass
their melancholy hours in the company of slaves devoted to the commands of
a tyrant who had already injured them beyond the hope of reconciliation.
At length, however, the emergencies of the state compelled the emperor, or
rather his eunuchs, to invest Gallus, in the twenty-fifth year of his age,
with the title of Cæsar, and to cement this political connection by his
marriage with the princess Constantina. After a formal interview, in which
the two princes mutually engaged their faith never to undertake any thing
to the prejudice of each other, they repaired without delay to their
respective stations. Constantius continued his march towards the West, and
Gallus fixed his residence at Antioch; from whence, with a delegated
authority, he administered the five great dioceses of the eastern
præfecture. 13 In this fortunate change, the new Cæsar was
not unmindful of his brother Julian, who obtained the honors of his rank,
the appearances of liberty, and the restitution of an ample patrimony. 14
The writers the most indulgent to the memory of Gallus, and even Julian
himself, though he wished to cast a veil over the frailties of his
brother, are obliged to confess that the Cæsar was incapable of reigning.
Transported from a prison to a throne, he possessed neither genius nor
application, nor docility to compensate for the want of knowledge and
experience. A temper naturally morose and violent, instead of being
corrected, was soured by solitude and adversity; the remembrance of what
he had endured disposed him to retaliation rather than to sympathy; and
the ungoverned sallies of his rage were often fatal to those who
approached his person, or were subject to his power. 15
Constantina, his wife, is described, not as a woman, but as one of the
infernal furies tormented with an insatiate thirst of human blood. 16
Instead of employing her influence to insinuate the mild counsels of
prudence and humanity, she exasperated the fierce passions of her husband;
and as she retained the vanity, though she had renounced, the gentleness
of her sex, a pearl necklace was esteemed an equivalent price for the
murder of an innocent and virtuous nobleman. 17 The cruelty of Gallus
was sometimes displayed in the undissembled violence of popular or
military executions; and was sometimes disguised by the abuse of law, and
the forms of judicial proceedings. The private houses of Antioch, and the
places of public resort, were besieged by spies and informers; and the
Cæsar himself, concealed in a a plebeian habit, very frequently
condescended to assume that odious character. Every apartment of the
palace was adorned with the instruments of death and torture, and a
general consternation was diffused through the capital of Syria. The
prince of the East, as if he had been conscious how much he had to fear,
and how little he deserved to reign, selected for the objects of his
resentment the provincials accused of some imaginary treason, and his own
courtiers, whom with more reason he suspected of incensing, by their
secret correspondence, the timid and suspicious mind of Constantius. But
he forgot that he was depriving himself of his only support, the affection
of the people; whilst he furnished the malice of his enemies with the arms
of truth, and afforded the emperor the fairest pretence of exacting the
forfeit of his purple, and of his life. 18
As long as the civil war suspended the fate of the Roman world,
Constantius dissembled his knowledge of the weak and cruel administration
to which his choice had subjected the East; and the discovery of some
assassins, secretly despatched to Antioch by the tyrant of Gaul, was
employed to convince the public, that the emperor and the Cæsar were
united by the same interest, and pursued by the same enemies. 19
But when the victory was decided in favor of Constantius, his dependent
colleague became less useful and less formidable. Every circumstance of
his conduct was severely and suspiciously examined, and it was privately
resolved, either to deprive Gallus of the purple, or at least to remove
him from the indolent luxury of Asia to the hardships and dangers of a
German war. The death of Theophilus, consular of the province of Syria,
who in a time of scarcity had been massacred by the people of Antioch,
with the connivance, and almost at the instigation, of Gallus, was justly
resented, not only as an act of wanton cruelty, but as a dangerous insult
on the supreme majesty of Constantius. Two ministers of illustrious rank,
Domitian the Oriental præfect, and Montius, quæstor of the palace, were
empowered by a special commission 1911 to visit and
reform the state of the East. They were instructed to behave towards
Gallus with moderation and respect, and, by the gentlest arts of
persuasion, to engage him to comply with the invitation of his brother and
colleague. The rashness of the præfect disappointed these prudent
measures, and hastened his own ruin, as well as that of his enemy. On his
arrival at Antioch, Domitian passed disdainfully before the gates of the
palace, and alleging a slight pretence of indisposition, continued several
days in sullen retirement, to prepare an inflammatory memorial, which he
transmitted to the Imperial court. Yielding at length to the pressing
solicitations of Gallus, the præfect condescended to take his seat in
council; but his first step was to signify a concise and haughty mandate,
importing that the Cæsar should immediately repair to Italy, and
threatening that he himself would punish his delay or hesitation, by
suspending the usual allowance of his household. The nephew and daughter
of Constantine, who could ill brook the insolence of a subject, expressed
their resentment by instantly delivering Domitian to the custody of a
guard. The quarrel still admitted of some terms of accommodation. They
were rendered impracticable by the imprudent behavior of Montius, a
statesman whose arts and experience were frequently betrayed by the levity
of his disposition. 20 The quæstor reproached Gallus in a haughty
language, that a prince who was scarcely authorized to remove a municipal
magistrate, should presume to imprison a Prætorian præfect; convoked a
meeting of the civil and military officers; and required them, in the name
of their sovereign, to defend the person and dignity of his
representatives. By this rash declaration of war, the impatient temper of
Gallus was provoked to embrace the most desperate counsels. He ordered his
guards to stand to their arms, assembled the populace of Antioch, and
recommended to their zeal the care of his safety and revenge. His commands
were too fatally obeyed. They rudely seized the præfect and the quæstor,
and tying their legs together with ropes, they dragged them through the
streets of the city, inflicted a thousand insults and a thousand wounds on
these unhappy victims, and at last precipitated their mangled and lifeless
bodies into the stream of the Orontes. 21
After such a deed, whatever might have been the designs of Gallus, it was
only in a field of battle that he could assert his innocence with any hope
of success. But the mind of that prince was formed of an equal mixture of
violence and weakness. Instead of assuming the title of Augustus, instead
of employing in his defence the troops and treasures of the East, he
suffered himself to be deceived by the affected tranquillity of
Constantius, who, leaving him the vain pageantry of a court, imperceptibly
recalled the veteran legions from the provinces of Asia. But as it still
appeared dangerous to arrest Gallus in his capital, the slow and safer
arts of dissimulation were practised with success. The frequent and
pressing epistles of Constantius were filled with professions of
confidence and friendship; exhorting the Cæsar to discharge the duties of
his high station, to relieve his colleague from a part of the public
cares, and to assist the West by his presence, his counsels, and his arms.
After so many reciprocal injuries, Gallus had reason to fear and to
distrust. But he had neglected the opportunities of flight and of
resistance; he was seduced by the flattering assurances of the tribune
Scudilo, who, under the semblance of a rough soldier, disguised the most
artful insinuation; and he depended on the credit of his wife Constantina,
till the unseasonable death of that princess completed the ruin in which
he had been involved by her impetuous passions. 22
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part II.
After a long delay, the reluctant Cæsar set forwards on his journey to
the Imperial court. From Antioch to Hadrianople, he traversed the wide
extent of his dominions with a numerous and stately train; and as he
labored to conceal his apprehensions from the world, and perhaps from
himself, he entertained the people of Constantinople with an exhibition of
the games of the circus. The progress of the journey might, however, have
warned him of the impending danger. In all the principal cities he was met
by ministers of confidence, commissioned to seize the offices of
government, to observe his motions, and to prevent the hasty sallies of
his despair. The persons despatched to secure the provinces which he left
behind, passed him with cold salutations, or affected disdain; and the
troops, whose station lay along the public road, were studiously removed
on his approach, lest they might be tempted to offer their swords for the
service of a civil war. 23 After Gallus had been permitted to repose
himself a few days at Hadrianople, he received a mandate, expressed in the
most haughty and absolute style, that his splendid retinue should halt in
that city, while the Cæsar himself, with only ten post-carriages, should
hasten to the Imperial residence at Milan.
In this rapid journey, the profound respect which was due to the brother
and colleague of Constantius, was insensibly changed into rude
familiarity; and Gallus, who discovered in the countenances of the
attendants that they already considered themselves as his guards, and
might soon be employed as his executioners, began to accuse his fatal
rashness, and to recollect, with terror and remorse, the conduct by which
he had provoked his fate. The dissimulation which had hitherto been
preserved, was laid aside at Petovio, 2311 in Pannonia. He
was conducted to a palace in the suburbs, where the general Barbatio, with
a select band of soldiers, who could neither be moved by pity, nor
corrupted by rewards, expected the arrival of his illustrious victim. In
the close of the evening he was arrested, ignominiously stripped of the
ensigns of Cæsar, and hurried away to Pola, [23b] in Istria, a
sequestered prison, which had been so recently polluted with royal blood.
The horror which he felt was soon increased by the appearance of his
implacable enemy the eunuch Eusebius, who, with the assistance of a notary
and a tribune, proceeded to interrogate him concerning the administration
of the East. The Cæsar sank under the weight of shame and guilt,
confessed all the criminal actions and all the treasonable designs with
which he was charged; and by imputing them to the advice of his wife,
exasperated the indignation of Constantius, who reviewed with partial
prejudice the minutes of the examination. The emperor was easily
convinced, that his own safety was incompatible with the life of his
cousin: the sentence of death was signed, despatched, and executed; and
the nephew of Constantine, with his hands tied behind his back, was
beheaded in prison like the vilest malefactor. 24 Those who are
inclined to palliate the cruelties of Constantius, assert that he soon
relented, and endeavored to recall the bloody mandate; but that the second
messenger, intrusted with the reprieve, was detained by the eunuchs, who
dreaded the unforgiving temper of Gallus, and were desirous of reuniting
to their empire the wealthy provinces of the East. 25
Besides the reigning emperor, Julian alone survived, of all the numerous
posterity of Constantius Chlorus. The misfortune of his royal birth
involved him in the disgrace of Gallus. From his retirement in the happy
country of Ionia, he was conveyed under a strong guard to the court of
Milan; where he languished above seven months, in the continual
apprehension of suffering the same ignominious death, which was daily
inflicted almost before his eyes, on the friends and adherents of his
persecuted family. His looks, his gestures, his silence, were scrutinized
with malignant curiosity, and he was perpetually assaulted by enemies whom
he had never offended, and by arts to which he was a stranger. 26
But in the school of adversity, Julian insensibly acquired the virtues of
firmness and discretion. He defended his honor, as well as his life,
against the insnaring subtleties of the eunuchs, who endeavored to extort
some declaration of his sentiments; and whilst he cautiously suppressed
his grief and resentment, he nobly disdained to flatter the tyrant, by any
seeming approbation of his brother’s murder. Julian most devoutly ascribes
his miraculous deliverance to the protection of the gods, who had exempted
his innocence from the sentence of destruction pronounced by their justice
against the impious house of Constantine. 27 As the most effectual
instrument of their providence, he gratefully acknowledges the steady and
generous friendship of the empress Eusebia, 28 a woman of beauty and
merit, who, by the ascendant which she had gained over the mind of her
husband, counterbalanced, in some measure, the powerful conspiracy of the
eunuchs. By the intercession of his patroness, Julian was admitted into
the Imperial presence: he pleaded his cause with a decent freedom, he was
heard with favor; and, notwithstanding the efforts of his enemies, who
urged the danger of sparing an avenger of the blood of Gallus, the milder
sentiment of Eusebia prevailed in the council. But the effects of a second
interview were dreaded by the eunuchs; and Julian was advised to withdraw
for a while into the neighborhood of Milan, till the emperor thought
proper to assign the city of Athens for the place of his honorable exile.
As he had discovered, from his earliest youth, a propensity, or rather
passion, for the language, the manners, the learning, and the religion of
the Greeks, he obeyed with pleasure an order so agreeable to his wishes.
Far from the tumult of arms, and the treachery of courts, he spent six
months under the groves of the academy, in a free intercourse with the
philosophers of the age, who studied to cultivate the genius, to encourage
the vanity, and to inflame the devotion of their royal pupil. Their labors
were not unsuccessful; and Julian inviolably preserved for Athens that
tender regard which seldom fails to arise in a liberal mind, from the
recollection of the place where it has discovered and exercised its
growing powers. The gentleness and affability of manners, which his temper
suggested and his situation imposed, insensibly engaged the affections of
the strangers, as well as citizens, with whom he conversed. Some of his
fellow-students might perhaps examine his behavior with an eye of
prejudice and aversion; but Julian established, in the schools of Athens,
a general prepossession in favor of his virtues and talents, which was
soon diffused over the Roman world. 29
Whilst his hours were passed in studious retirement, the empress, resolute
to achieve the generous design which she had undertaken, was not unmindful
of the care of his fortune. The death of the late Cæsar had left
Constantius invested with the sole command, and oppressed by the
accumulated weight, of a mighty empire. Before the wounds of civil discord
could be healed, the provinces of Gaul were overwhelmed by a deluge of
Barbarians. The Sarmatians no longer respected the barrier of the Danube.
The impunity of rapine had increased the boldness and numbers of the wild
Isaurians: those robbers descended from their craggy mountains to ravage
the adjacent country, and had even presumed, though without success, to
besiege the important city of Seleucia, which was defended by a garrison
of three Roman legions. Above all, the Persian monarch, elated by victory,
again threatened the peace of Asia, and the presence of the emperor was
indispensably required, both in the West and in the East. For the first
time, Constantius sincerely acknowledged, that his single strength was
unequal to such an extent of care and of dominion. 30 Insensible to the
voice of flattery, which assured him that his all-powerful virtue, and
celestial fortune, would still continue to triumph over every obstacle, he
listened with complacency to the advice of Eusebia, which gratified his
indolence, without offending his suspicious pride. As she perceived that
the remembrance of Gallus dwelt on the emperor’s mind, she artfully turned
his attention to the opposite characters of the two brothers, which from
their infancy had been compared to those of Domitian and of Titus. 31
She accustomed her husband to consider Julian as a youth of a mild,
unambitious disposition, whose allegiance and gratitude might be secured
by the gift of the purple, and who was qualified to fill with honor a
subordinate station, without aspiring to dispute the commands, or to shade
the glories, of his sovereign and benefactor. After an obstinate, though
secret struggle, the opposition of the favorite eunuchs submitted to the
ascendency of the empress; and it was resolved that Julian, after
celebrating his nuptials with Helena, sister of Constantius, should be
appointed, with the title of Cæsar, to reign over the countries beyond
the Alps. 32
Although the order which recalled him to court was probably accompanied by
some intimation of his approaching greatness, he appeals to the people of
Athens to witness his tears of undissembled sorrow, when he was
reluctantly torn away from his beloved retirement. 33 He trembled for his
life, for his fame, and even for his virtue; and his sole confidence was
derived from the persuasion, that Minerva inspired all his actions, and
that he was protected by an invisible guard of angels, whom for that
purpose she had borrowed from the Sun and Moon. He approached, with
horror, the palace of Milan; nor could the ingenuous youth conceal his
indignation, when he found himself accosted with false and servile respect
by the assassins of his family. Eusebia, rejoicing in the success of her
benevolent schemes, embraced him with the tenderness of a sister; and
endeavored, by the most soothing caresses, to dispel his terrors, and
reconcile him to his fortune. But the ceremony of shaving his beard, and
his awkward demeanor, when he first exchanged the cloak of a Greek
philosopher for the military habit of a Roman prince, amused, during a few
days, the levity of the Imperial court. 34
The emperors of the age of Constantine no longer deigned to consult with
the senate in the choice of a colleague; but they were anxious that their
nomination should be ratified by the consent of the army. On this solemn
occasion, the guards, with the other troops whose stations were in the
neighborhood of Milan, appeared under arms; and Constantius ascended his
lofty tribunal, holding by the hand his cousin Julian, who entered the
same day into the twenty-fifth year of his age. 35 In a studied speech,
conceived and delivered with dignity, the emperor represented the various
dangers which threatened the prosperity of the republic, the necessity of
naming a Cæsar for the administration of the West, and his own intention,
if it was agreeable to their wishes, of rewarding with the honors of the
purple the promising virtues of the nephew of Constantine. The approbation
of the soldiers was testified by a respectful murmur; they gazed on the
manly countenance of Julian, and observed with pleasure, that the fire
which sparkled in his eyes was tempered by a modest blush, on being thus
exposed, for the first time, to the public view of mankind. As soon as the
ceremony of his investiture had been performed, Constantius addressed him
with the tone of authority which his superior age and station permitted
him to assume; and exhorting the new Cæsar to deserve, by heroic deeds,
that sacred and immortal name, the emperor gave his colleague the
strongest assurances of a friendship which should never be impaired by
time, nor interrupted by their separation into the most distant climes. As
soon as the speech was ended, the troops, as a token of applause, clashed
their shields against their knees; 36 while the officers
who surrounded the tribunal expressed, with decent reserve, their sense of
the merits of the representative of Constantius.
The two princes returned to the palace in the same chariot; and during the
slow procession, Julian repeated to himself a verse of his favorite Homer,
which he might equally apply to his fortune and to his fears. 37
The four-and-twenty days which the Cæsar spent at Milan after his
investiture, and the first months of his Gallic reign, were devoted to a
splendid but severe captivity; nor could the acquisition of honor
compensate for the loss of freedom. 38 His steps were
watched, his correspondence was intercepted; and he was obliged, by
prudence, to decline the visits of his most intimate friends. Of his
former domestics, four only were permitted to attend him; two pages, his
physician, and his librarian; the last of whom was employed in the care of
a valuable collection of books, the gift of the empress, who studied the
inclinations as well as the interest of her friend. In the room of these
faithful servants, a household was formed, such indeed as became the
dignity of a Cæsar; but it was filled with a crowd of slaves, destitute,
and perhaps incapable, of any attachment for their new master, to whom,
for the most part, they were either unknown or suspected. His want of
experience might require the assistance of a wise council; but the minute
instructions which regulated the service of his table, and the
distribution of his hours, were adapted to a youth still under the
discipline of his preceptors, rather than to the situation of a prince
intrusted with the conduct of an important war. If he aspired to deserve
the esteem of his subjects, he was checked by the fear of displeasing his
sovereign; and even the fruits of his marriage-bed were blasted by the
jealous artifices of Eusebia 39 herself, who, on this
occasion alone, seems to have been unmindful of the tenderness of her sex,
and the generosity of her character. The memory of his father and of his
brothers reminded Julian of his own danger, and his apprehensions were
increased by the recent and unworthy fate of Sylvanus. In the summer which
preceded his own elevation, that general had been chosen to deliver Gaul
from the tyranny of the Barbarians; but Sylvanus soon discovered that he
had left his most dangerous enemies in the Imperial court. A dexterous
informer, countenanced by several of the principal ministers, procured
from him some recommendatory letters; and erasing the whole of the
contents, except the signature, filled up the vacant parchment with
matters of high and treasonable import. By the industry and courage of his
friends, the fraud was however detected, and in a great council of the
civil and military officers, held in the presence of the emperor himself,
the innocence of Sylvanus was publicly acknowledged. But the discovery
came too late; the report of the calumny, and the hasty seizure of his
estate, had already provoked the indignant chief to the rebellion of which
he was so unjustly accused. He assumed the purple at his head- quarters of
Cologne, and his active powers appeared to menace Italy with an invasion,
and Milan with a siege. In this emergency, Ursicinus, a general of equal
rank, regained, by an act of treachery, the favor which he had lost by his
eminent services in the East. Exasperated, as he might speciously allege,
by the injuries of a similar nature, he hastened with a few followers to
join the standard, and to betray the confidence, of his too credulous
friend. After a reign of only twenty-eight days, Sylvanus was
assassinated: the soldiers who, without any criminal intention, had
blindly followed the example of their leader, immediately returned to
their allegiance; and the flatterers of Constantius celebrated the wisdom
and felicity of the monarch who had extinguished a civil war without the
hazard of a battle. 40
The protection of the Rhætian frontier, and the persecution of the
Catholic church, detained Constantius in Italy above eighteen months after
the departure of Julian. Before the emperor returned into the East, he
indulged his pride and curiosity in a visit to the ancient capital. 41
He proceeded from Milan to Rome along the Æmilian and Flaminian ways, and
as soon as he approached within forty miles of the city, the march of a
prince who had never vanquished a foreign enemy, assumed the appearance of
a triumphal procession. His splendid train was composed of all the
ministers of luxury; but in a time of profound peace, he was encompassed
by the glittering arms of the numerous squadrons of his guards and
cuirassiers. Their streaming banners of silk, embossed with gold, and
shaped in the form of dragons, waved round the person of the emperor.
Constantius sat alone in a lofty car, resplendent with gold and precious
gems; and, except when he bowed his head to pass under the gates of the
cities, he affected a stately demeanor of inflexible, and, as it might
seem, of insensible gravity. The severe discipline of the Persian youth
had been introduced by the eunuchs into the Imperial palace; and such were
the habits of patience which they had inculcated, that during a slow and
sultry march, he was never seen to move his hand towards his face, or to
turn his eyes either to the right or to the left. He was received by the
magistrates and senate of Rome; and the emperor surveyed, with attention,
the civil honors of the republic, and the consular images of the noble
families. The streets were lined with an innumerable multitude. Their
repeated acclamations expressed their joy at beholding, after an absence
of thirty-two years, the sacred person of their sovereign, and Constantius
himself expressed, with some pleasantry, he affected surprise that the
human race should thus suddenly be collected on the same spot. The son of
Constantine was lodged in the ancient palace of Augustus: he presided in
the senate, harangued the people from the tribunal which Cicero had so
often ascended, assisted with unusual courtesy at the games of the Circus,
and accepted the crowns of gold, as well as the Panegyrics which had been
prepared for the ceremony by the deputies of the principal cities. His
short visit of thirty days was employed in viewing the monuments of art
and power which were scattered over the seven hills and the interjacent
valleys. He admired the awful majesty of the Capitol, the vast extent of
the baths of Caracalla and Diocletian, the severe simplicity of the
Pantheon, the massy greatness of the amphitheatre of Titus, the elegant
architecture of the theatre of Pompey and the Temple of Peace, and, above
all, the stately structure of the Forum and column of Trajan;
acknowledging that the voice of fame, so prone to invent and to magnify,
had made an inadequate report of the metropolis of the world. The
traveller, who has contemplated the ruins of ancient Rome, may conceive
some imperfect idea of the sentiments which they must have inspired when
they reared their heads in the splendor of unsullied beauty.
[See The Pantheon: The severe simplicity of the Pantheon]
The satisfaction which Constantius had received from this journey excited
him to the generous emulation of bestowing on the Romans some memorial of
his own gratitude and munificence. His first idea was to imitate the
equestrian and colossal statue which he had seen in the Forum of Trajan;
but when he had maturely weighed the difficulties of the execution, 42
he chose rather to embellish the capital by the gift of an Egyptian
obelisk. In a remote but polished age, which seems to have preceded the
invention of alphabetical writing, a great number of these obelisks had
been erected, in the cities of Thebes and Heliopolis, by the ancient
sovereigns of Egypt, in a just confidence that the simplicity of their
form, and the hardness of their substance, would resist the injuries of
time and violence. 43 Several of these extraordinary columns had
been transported to Rome by Augustus and his successors, as the most
durable monuments of their power and victory; 44 but there remained
one obelisk, which, from its size or sanctity, escaped for a long time the
rapacious vanity of the conquerors. It was designed by Constantine to
adorn his new city; 45 and, after being removed by his order from
the pedestal where it stood before the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis,
was floated down the Nile to Alexandria. The death of Constantine
suspended the execution of his purpose, and this obelisk was destined by
his son to the ancient capital of the empire. A vessel of uncommon
strength and capaciousness was provided to convey this enormous weight of
granite, at least a hundred and fifteen feet in length, from the banks of
the Nile to those of the Tyber. The obelisk of Constantius was landed
about three miles from the city, and elevated, by the efforts of art and
labor, in the great Circus of Rome. 46 4611
The departure of Constantius from Rome was hastened by the alarming
intelligence of the distress and danger of the Illyrian provinces. The
distractions of civil war, and the irreparable loss which the Roman
legions had sustained in the battle of Mursa, exposed those countries,
almost without defence, to the light cavalry of the Barbarians; and
particularly to the inroads of the Quadi, a fierce and powerful nation,
who seem to have exchanged the institutions of Germany for the arms and
military arts of their Sarmatian allies. 47 The garrisons of the
frontiers were insufficient to check their progress; and the indolent
monarch was at length compelled to assemble, from the extremities of his
dominions, the flower of the Palatine troops, to take the field in person,
and to employ a whole campaign, with the preceding autumn and the ensuing
spring, in the serious prosecution of the war. The emperor passed the
Danube on a bridge of boats, cut in pieces all that encountered his march,
penetrated into the heart of the country of the Quadi, and severely
retaliated the calamities which they had inflicted on the Roman province.
The dismayed Barbarians were soon reduced to sue for peace: they offered
the restitution of his captive subjects as an atonement for the past, and
the noblest hostages as a pledge of their future conduct. The generous
courtesy which was shown to the first among their chieftains who implored
the clemency of Constantius, encouraged the more timid, or the more
obstinate, to imitate their example; and the Imperial camp was crowded
with the princes and ambassadors of the most distant tribes, who occupied
the plains of the Lesser Poland, and who might have deemed themselves
secure behind the lofty ridge of the Carpathian Mountains. While
Constantius gave laws to the Barbarians beyond the Danube, he
distinguished, with specious compassion, the Sarmatian exiles, who had
been expelled from their native country by the rebellion of their slaves,
and who formed a very considerable accession to the power of the Quadi.
The emperor, embracing a generous but artful system of policy, released
the Sarmatians from the bands of this humiliating dependence, and restored
them, by a separate treaty, to the dignity of a nation united under the
government of a king, the friend and ally of the republic. He declared his
resolution of asserting the justice of their cause, and of securing the
peace of the provinces by the extirpation, or at least the banishment, of
the Limigantes, whose manners were still infected with the vices of their
servile origin. The execution of this design was attended with more
difficulty than glory. The territory of the Limigantes was protected
against the Romans by the Danube, against the hostile Barbarians by the
Teyss. The marshy lands which lay between those rivers, and were often
covered by their inundations, formed an intricate wilderness, pervious
only to the inhabitants, who were acquainted with its secret paths and
inaccessible fortresses. On the approach of Constantius, the Limigantes
tried the efficacy of prayers, of fraud, and of arms; but he sternly
rejected their supplications, defeated their rude stratagems, and repelled
with skill and firmness the efforts of their irregular valor. One of their
most warlike tribes, established in a small island towards the conflux of
the Teyss and the Danube, consented to pass the river with the intention
of surprising the emperor during the security of an amicable conference.
They soon became the victims of the perfidy which they meditated.
Encompassed on every side, trampled down by the cavalry, slaughtered by
the swords of the legions, they disdained to ask for mercy; and with an
undaunted countenance, still grasped their weapons in the agonies of
death. After this victory, a considerable body of Romans was landed on the
opposite banks of the Danube; the Taifalæ, a Gothic tribe engaged in the
service of the empire, invaded the Limigantes on the side of the Teyss;
and their former masters, the free Sarmatians, animated by hope and
revenge, penetrated through the hilly country, into the heart of their
ancient possessions. A general conflagration revealed the huts of the
Barbarians, which were seated in the depth of the wilderness; and the
soldier fought with confidence on marshy ground, which it was dangerous
for him to tread. In this extremity, the bravest of the Limigantes were
resolved to die in arms, rather than to yield: but the milder sentiment,
enforced by the authority of their elders, at length prevailed; and the
suppliant crowd, followed by their wives and children, repaired to the
Imperial camp, to learn their fate from the mouth of the conqueror. After
celebrating his own clemency, which was still inclined to pardon their
repeated crimes, and to spare the remnant of a guilty nation, Constantius
assigned for the place of their exile a remote country, where they might
enjoy a safe and honorable repose. The Limigantes obeyed with reluctance;
but before they could reach, at least before they could occupy, their
destined habitations, they returned to the banks of the Danube,
exaggerating the hardships of their situation, and requesting, with
fervent professions of fidelity, that the emperor would grant them an
undisturbed settlement within the limits of the Roman provinces. Instead
of consulting his own experience of their incurable perfidy, Constantius
listened to his flatterers, who were ready to represent the honor and
advantage of accepting a colony of soldiers, at a time when it was much
easier to obtain the pecuniary contributions than the military service of
the subjects of the empire. The Limigantes were permitted to pass the
Danube; and the emperor gave audience to the multitude in a large plain
near the modern city of Buda. They surrounded the tribunal, and seemed to
hear with respect an oration full of mildness and dignity when one of the
Barbarians, casting his shoe into the air, exclaimed with a loud voice,
Marha! Marha! 4711 a word of defiance, which was received as
a signal of the tumult. They rushed with fury to seize the person of the
emperor; his royal throne and golden couch were pillaged by these rude
hands; but the faithful defence of his guards, who died at his feet,
allowed him a moment to mount a fleet horse, and to escape from the
confusion. The disgrace which had been incurred by a treacherous surprise
was soon retrieved by the numbers and discipline of the Romans; and the
combat was only terminated by the extinction of the name and nation of the
Limigantes. The free Sarmatians were reinstated in the possession of their
ancient seats; and although Constantius distrusted the levity of their
character, he entertained some hopes that a sense of gratitude might
influence their future conduct. He had remarked the lofty stature and
obsequious demeanor of Zizais, one of the noblest of their chiefs. He
conferred on him the title of King; and Zizais proved that he was not
unworthy to reign, by a sincere and lasting attachment to the interests of
his benefactor, who, after this splendid success, received the name of
Sarmaticus from the acclamations of his victorious army. 48
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part III.
While the Roman emperor and the Persian monarch, at the distance of three
thousand miles, defended their extreme limits against the Barbarians of
the Danube and of the Oxus, their intermediate frontier experienced the
vicissitudes of a languid war, and a precarious truce. Two of the eastern
ministers of Constantius, the Prætorian præfect Musonian, whose
abilities were disgraced by the want of truth and integrity, and Cassian,
duke of Mesopotamia, a hardy and veteran soldier, opened a secret
negotiation with the satrap Tamsapor. 49 4911
These overtures of peace, translated into the servile and flattering
language of Asia, were transmitted to the camp of the Great King; who
resolved to signify, by an ambassador, the terms which he was inclined to
grant to the suppliant Romans. Narses, whom he invested with that
character, was honorably received in his passage through Antioch and
Constantinople: he reached Sirmium after a long journey, and, at his first
audience, respectfully unfolded the silken veil which covered the haughty
epistle of his sovereign. Sapor, King of Kings, and Brother of the Sun and
Moon, (such were the lofty titles affected by Oriental vanity,) expressed
his satisfaction that his brother, Constantius Cæsar, had been taught
wisdom by adversity. As the lawful successor of Darius Hystaspes, Sapor
asserted, that the River Strymon, in Macedonia, was the true and ancient
boundary of his empire; declaring, however, that as an evidence of his
moderation, he would content himself with the provinces of Armenia and
Mesopotamia, which had been fraudulently extorted from his ancestors. He
alleged, that, without the restitution of these disputed countries, it was
impossible to establish any treaty on a solid and permanent basis; and he
arrogantly threatened, that if his ambassador returned in vain, he was
prepared to take the field in the spring, and to support the justice of
his cause by the strength of his invincible arms. Narses, who was endowed
with the most polite and amiable manners, endeavored, as far as was
consistent with his duty, to soften the harshness of the message. 50
Both the style and substance were maturely weighed in the Imperial
council, and he was dismissed with the following answer: “Constantius had
a right to disclaim the officiousness of his ministers, who had acted
without any specific orders from the throne: he was not, however, averse
to an equal and honorable treaty; but it was highly indecent, as well as
absurd, to propose to the sole and victorious emperor of the Roman world,
the same conditions of peace which he had indignantly rejected at the time
when his power was contracted within the narrow limits of the East: the
chance of arms was uncertain; and Sapor should recollect, that if the
Romans had sometimes been vanquished in battle, they had almost always
been successful in the event of the war.” A few days after the departure
of Narses, three ambassadors were sent to the court of Sapor, who was
already returned from the Scythian expedition to his ordinary residence of
Ctesiphon. A count, a notary, and a sophist, had been selected for this
important commission; and Constantius, who was secretly anxious for the
conclusion of the peace, entertained some hopes that the dignity of the
first of these ministers, the dexterity of the second, and the rhetoric of
the third, 51 would persuade the Persian monarch to abate
of the rigor of his demands. But the progress of their negotiation was
opposed and defeated by the hostile arts of Antoninus, 52
a Roman subject of Syria, who had fled from oppression, and was admitted
into the councils of Sapor, and even to the royal table, where, according
to the custom of the Persians, the most important business was frequently
discussed. 53 The dexterous fugitive promoted his interest
by the same conduct which gratified his revenge. He incessantly urged the
ambition of his new master to embrace the favorable opportunity when the
bravest of the Palatine troops were employed with the emperor in a distant
war on the Danube. He pressed Sapor to invade the exhausted and
defenceless provinces of the East, with the numerous armies of Persia, now
fortified by the alliance and accession of the fiercest Barbarians. The
ambassadors of Rome retired without success, and a second embassy, of a
still more honorable rank, was detained in strict confinement, and
threatened either with death or exile.
The military historian, 54 who was himself despatched to observe the
army of the Persians, as they were preparing to construct a bridge of
boats over the Tigris, beheld from an eminence the plain of Assyria, as
far as the edge of the horizon, covered with men, with horses, and with
arms. Sapor appeared in the front, conspicuous by the splendor of his
purple. On his left hand, the place of honor among the Orientals,
Grumbates, king of the Chionites, displayed the stern countenance of an
aged and renowned warrior. The monarch had reserved a similar place on his
right hand for the king of the Albanians, who led his independent tribes
from the shores of the Caspian. 5411 The satraps and
generals were distributed according to their several ranks, and the whole
army, besides the numerous train of Oriental luxury, consisted of more
than one hundred thousand effective men, inured to fatigue, and selected
from the bravest nations of Asia. The Roman deserter, who in some measure
guided the councils of Sapor, had prudently advised, that, instead of
wasting the summer in tedious and difficult sieges, he should march
directly to the Euphrates, and press forwards without delay to seize the
feeble and wealthy metropolis of Syria. But the Persians were no sooner
advanced into the plains of Mesopotamia, than they discovered that every
precaution had been used which could retard their progress, or defeat
their design. The inhabitants, with their cattle, were secured in places
of strength, the green forage throughout the country was set on fire, the
fords of the rivers were fortified by sharp stakes; military engines were
planted on the opposite banks, and a seasonable swell of the waters of the
Euphrates deterred the Barbarians from attempting the ordinary passage of
the bridge of Thapsacus. Their skilful guide, changing his plan of
operations, then conducted the army by a longer circuit, but through a
fertile territory, towards the head of the Euphrates, where the infant
river is reduced to a shallow and accessible stream. Sapor overlooked,
with prudent disdain, the strength of Nisibis; but as he passed under the
walls of Amida, he resolved to try whether the majesty of his presence
would not awe the garrison into immediate submission. The sacrilegious
insult of a random dart, which glanced against the royal tiara, convinced
him of his error; and the indignant monarch listened with impatience to
the advice of his ministers, who conjured him not to sacrifice the success
of his ambition to the gratification of his resentment. The following day
Grumbates advanced towards the gates with a select body of troops, and
required the instant surrender of the city, as the only atonement which
could be accepted for such an act of rashness and insolence. His proposals
were answered by a general discharge, and his only son, a beautiful and
valiant youth, was pierced through the heart by a javelin, shot from one
of the balistæ. The funeral of the prince of the Chionites was celebrated
according to the rites of the country; and the grief of his aged father
was alleviated by the solemn promise of Sapor, that the guilty city of
Amida should serve as a funeral pile to expiate the death, and to
perpetuate the memory, of his son.
The ancient city of Amid or Amida, 55 which sometimes
assumes the provincial appellation of Diarbekir, 56 is advantageously
situate in a fertile plain, watered by the natural and artificial channels
of the Tigris, of which the least inconsiderable stream bends in a
semicircular form round the eastern part of the city. The emperor
Constantius had recently conferred on Amida the honor of his own name, and
the additional fortifications of strong walls and lofty towers. It was
provided with an arsenal of military engines, and the ordinary garrison
had been reenforced to the amount of seven legions, when the place was
invested by the arms of Sapor. 57 His first and most
sanguine hopes depended on the success of a general assault. To the
several nations which followed his standard, their respective posts were
assigned; the south to the Vertæ; the north to the Albanians; the east to
the Chionites, inflamed with grief and indignation; the west to the
Segestans, the bravest of his warriors, who covered their front with a
formidable line of Indian elephants. 58 The Persians, on
every side, supported their efforts, and animated their courage; and the
monarch himself, careless of his rank and safety, displayed, in the
prosecution of the siege, the ardor of a youthful soldier. After an
obstinate combat, the Barbarians were repulsed; they incessantly returned
to the charge; they were again driven back with a dreadful slaughter, and
two rebel legions of Gauls, who had been banished into the East,
signalized their undisciplined courage by a nocturnal sally into the heart
of the Persian camp. In one of the fiercest of these repeated assaults,
Amida was betrayed by the treachery of a deserter, who indicated to the
Barbarians a secret and neglected staircase, scooped out of the rock that
hangs over the stream of the Tigris. Seventy chosen archers of the royal
guard ascended in silence to the third story of a lofty tower, which
commanded the precipice; they elevated on high the Persian banner, the
signal of confidence to the assailants, and of dismay to the besieged; and
if this devoted band could have maintained their post a few minutes
longer, the reduction of the place might have been purchased by the
sacrifice of their lives. After Sapor had tried, without success, the
efficacy of force and of stratagem, he had recourse to the slower but more
certain operations of a regular siege, in the conduct of which he was
instructed by the skill of the Roman deserters. The trenches were opened
at a convenient distance, and the troops destined for that service
advanced under the portable cover of strong hurdles, to fill up the ditch,
and undermine the foundations of the walls. Wooden towers were at the same
time constructed, and moved forwards on wheels, till the soldiers, who
were provided with every species of missile weapons, could engage almost
on level ground with the troops who defended the rampart. Every mode of
resistance which art could suggest, or courage could execute, was employed
in the defence of Amida, and the works of Sapor were more than once
destroyed by the fire of the Romans. But the resources of a besieged city
may be exhausted. The Persians repaired their losses, and pushed their
approaches; a large preach was made by the battering-ram, and the strength
of the garrison, wasted by the sword and by disease, yielded to the fury
of the assault. The soldiers, the citizens, their wives, their children,
all who had not time to escape through the opposite gate, were involved by
the conquerors in a promiscuous massacre.
But the ruin of Amida was the safety of the Roman provinces.
As soon as the first transports of victory had subsided, Sapor was at
leisure to reflect, that to chastise a disobedient city, he had lost the
flower of his troops, and the most favorable season for conquest. 59
Thirty thousand of his veterans had fallen under the walls of Amida,
during the continuance of a siege, which lasted seventy-three days; and
the disappointed monarch returned to his capital with affected triumph and
secret mortification. It is more than probable, that the inconstancy of
his Barbarian allies was tempted to relinquish a war in which they had
encountered such unexpected difficulties; and that the aged king of the
Chionites, satiated with revenge, turned away with horror from a scene of
action where he had been deprived of the hope of his family and nation.
The strength as well as the spirit of the army with which Sapor took the
field in the ensuing spring was no longer equal to the unbounded views of
his ambition. Instead of aspiring to the conquest of the East, he was
obliged to content himself with the reduction of two fortified cities of
Mesopotamia, Singara and Bezabde; 60 the one situate in
the midst of a sandy desert, the other in a small peninsula, surrounded
almost on every side by the deep and rapid stream of the Tigris. Five
Roman legions, of the diminutive size to which they had been reduced in
the age of Constantine, were made prisoners, and sent into remote
captivity on the extreme confines of Persia. After dismantling the walls
of Singara, the conqueror abandoned that solitary and sequestered place;
but he carefully restored the fortifications of Bezabde, and fixed in that
important post a garrison or colony of veterans; amply supplied with every
means of defence, and animated by high sentiments of honor and fidelity.
Towards the close of the campaign, the arms of Sapor incurred some
disgrace by an unsuccessful enterprise against Virtha, or Tecrit, a
strong, or, as it was universally esteemed till the age of Tamerlane, an
impregnable fortress of the independent Arabs. 61 6111
The defence of the East against the arms of Sapor required and would have
exercised, the abilities of the most consummate general; and it seemed
fortunate for the state, that it was the actual province of the brave
Ursicinus, who alone deserved the confidence of the soldiers and people.
In the hour of danger, 62 Ursicinus was removed from his station by the
intrigues of the eunuchs; and the military command of the East was
bestowed, by the same influence, on Sabinian, a wealthy and subtle
veteran, who had attained the infirmities, without acquiring the
experience, of age. By a second order, which issued from the same jealous
and inconstant councils, Ursicinus was again despatched to the frontier of
Mesopotamia, and condemned to sustain the labors of a war, the honors of
which had been transferred to his unworthy rival. Sabinian fixed his
indolent station under the walls of Edessa; and while he amused himself
with the idle parade of military exercise, and moved to the sound of
flutes in the Pyrrhic dance, the public defence was abandoned to the
boldness and diligence of the former general of the East. But whenever
Ursicinus recommended any vigorous plan of operations; when he proposed,
at the head of a light and active army, to wheel round the foot of the
mountains, to intercept the convoys of the enemy, to harass the wide
extent of the Persian lines, and to relieve the distress of Amida; the
timid and envious commander alleged, that he was restrained by his
positive orders from endangering the safety of the troops. Amida was at
length taken; its bravest defenders, who had escaped the sword of the
Barbarians, died in the Roman camp by the hand of the executioner: and
Ursicinus himself, after supporting the disgrace of a partial inquiry, was
punished for the misconduct of Sabinian by the loss of his military rank.
But Constantius soon experienced the truth of the prediction which honest
indignation had extorted from his injured lieutenant, that as long as such
maxims of government were suffered to prevail, the emperor himself would
find it is no easy task to defend his eastern dominions from the invasion
of a foreign enemy. When he had subdued or pacified the Barbarians of the
Danube, Constantius proceeded by slow marches into the East; and after he
had wept over the smoking ruins of Amida, he formed, with a powerful army,
the siege of Becabde. The walls were shaken by the reiterated efforts of
the most enormous of the battering-rams; the town was reduced to the last
extremity; but it was still defended by the patient and intrepid valor of
the garrison, till the approach of the rainy season obliged the emperor to
raise the siege, and ingloviously to retreat into his winter quarters at
Antioch. 63 The pride of Constantius, and the ingenuity
of his courtiers, were at a loss to discover any materials for panegyric
in the events of the Persian war; while the glory of his cousin Julian, to
whose military command he had intrusted the provinces of Gaul, was
proclaimed to the world in the simple and concise narrative of his
exploits.
In the blind fury of civil discord, Constantius had abandoned to the
Barbarians of Germany the countries of Gaul, which still acknowledged the
authority of his rival. A numerous swarm of Franks and Alemanni were
invited to cross the Rhine by presents and promises, by the hopes of
spoil, and by a perpetual grant of all the territories which they should
be able to subdue. 64 But the emperor, who for a temporary service
had thus imprudently provoked the rapacious spirit of the Barbarians, soon
discovered and lamented the difficulty of dismissing these formidable
allies, after they had tasted the richness of the Roman soil. Regardless
of the nice distinction of loyalty and rebellion, these undisciplined
robbers treated as their natural enemies all the subjects of the empire,
who possessed any property which they were desirous of acquiring
Forty-five flourishing cities, Tongres, Cologne, Treves, Worms, Spires,
Strasburgh, &c., besides a far greater number of towns and villages,
were pillaged, and for the most part reduced to ashes. The Barbarians of
Germany, still faithful to the maxims of their ancestors, abhorred the
confinement of walls, to which they applied the odious names of prisons
and sepulchres; and fixing their independent habitations on the banks of
rivers, the Rhine, the Moselle, and the Meuse, they secured themselves
against the danger of a surprise, by a rude and hasty fortification of
large trees, which were felled and thrown across the roads. The Alemanni
were established in the modern countries of Alsace and Lorraine; the
Franks occupied the island of the Batavians, together with an extensive
district of Brabant, which was then known by the appellation of Toxandria,
65
and may deserve to be considered as the original seat of their Gallic
monarchy. 66 From the sources, to the mouth, of the Rhine,
the conquests of the Germans extended above forty miles to the west of
that river, over a country peopled by colonies of their own name and
nation: and the scene of their devastations was three times more extensive
than that of their conquests. At a still greater distance the open towns
of Gaul were deserted, and the inhabitants of the fortified cities, who
trusted to their strength and vigilance, were obliged to content
themselves with such supplies of corn as they could raise on the vacant
land within the enclosure of their walls. The diminished legions,
destitute of pay and provisions, of arms and discipline, trembled at the
approach, and even at the name, of the Barbarians.
Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor.—Part IV.
Under these melancholy circumstances, an unexperienced youth was appointed
to save and to govern the provinces of Gaul, or rather, as he expressed it
himself, to exhibit the vain image of Imperial greatness. The retired
scholastic education of Julian, in which he had been more conversant with
books than with arms, with the dead than with the living, left him in
profound ignorance of the practical arts of war and government; and when
he awkwardly repeated some military exercise which it was necessary for
him to learn, he exclaimed with a sigh, “O Plato, Plato, what a task for a
philosopher!” Yet even this speculative philosophy, which men of business
are too apt to despise, had filled the mind of Julian with the noblest
precepts and the most shining examples; had animated him with the love of
virtue, the desire of fame, and the contempt of death. The habits of
temperance recommended in the schools, are still more essential in the
severe discipline of a camp. The simple wants of nature regulated the
measure of his food and sleep. Rejecting with disdain the delicacies
provided for his table, he satisfied his appetite with the coarse and
common fare which was allotted to the meanest soldiers. During the rigor
of a Gallic winter, he never suffered a fire in his bed-chamber; and after
a short and interrupted slumber, he frequently rose in the middle of the
night from a carpet spread on the floor, to despatch any urgent business,
to visit his rounds, or to steal a few moments for the prosecution of his
favorite studies. 67 The precepts of eloquence, which he had
hitherto practised on fancied topics of declamation, were more usefully
applied to excite or to assuage the passions of an armed multitude: and
although Julian, from his early habits of conversation and literature, was
more familiarly acquainted with the beauties of the Greek language, he had
attained a competent knowledge of the Latin tongue. 68
Since Julian was not originally designed for the character of a
legislator, or a judge, it is probable that the civil jurisprudence of the
Romans had not engaged any considerable share of his attention: but he
derived from his philosophic studies an inflexible regard for justice,
tempered by a disposition to clemency; the knowledge of the general
principles of equity and evidence, and the faculty of patiently
investigating the most intricate and tedious questions which could be
proposed for his discussion. The measures of policy, and the operations of
war, must submit to the various accidents of circumstance and character,
and the unpractised student will often be perplexed in the application of
the most perfect theory.
But in the acquisition of this important science, Julian was assisted by
the active vigor of his own genius, as well as by the wisdom and
experience of Sallust, and officer of rank, who soon conceived a sincere
attachment for a prince so worthy of his friendship; and whose
incorruptible integrity was adorned by the talent of insinuating the
harshest truths without wounding the delicacy of a royal ear. 69
Immediately after Julian had received the purple at Milan, he was sent
into Gaul with a feeble retinue of three hundred and sixty soldiers. At
Vienna, where he passed a painful and anxious winter in the hands of those
ministers to whom Constantius had intrusted the direction of his conduct,
the Cæsar was informed of the siege and deliverance of Autun. That large
and ancient city, protected only by a ruined wall and pusillanimous
garrison, was saved by the generous resolution of a few veterans, who
resumed their arms for the defence of their country. In his march from
Autun, through the heart of the Gallic provinces, Julian embraced with
ardor the earliest opportunity of signalizing his courage. At the head of
a small body of archers and heavy cavalry, he preferred the shorter but
the more dangerous of two roads; 6911 and sometimes
eluding, and sometimes resisting, the attacks of the Barbarians, who were
masters of the field, he arrived with honor and safety at the camp near
Rheims, where the Roman troops had been ordered to assemble. The aspect of
their young prince revived the drooping spirits of the soldiers, and they
marched from Rheims in search of the enemy, with a confidence which had
almost proved fatal to them. The Alemanni, familiarized to the knowledge
of the country, secretly collected their scattered forces, and seizing the
opportunity of a dark and rainy day, poured with unexpected fury on the
rear-guard of the Romans. Before the inevitable disorder could be
remedied, two legions were destroyed; and Julian was taught by experience
that caution and vigilance are the most important lessons of the art of
war. In a second and more successful action, he recovered and established
his military fame; but as the agility of the Barbarians saved them from
the pursuit, his victory was neither bloody nor decisive. He advanced,
however, to the banks of the Rhine, surveyed the ruins of Cologne,
convinced himself of the difficulties of the war, and retreated on the
approach of winter, discontented with the court, with his army, and with
his own success. 70 The power of the enemy was yet unbroken; and
the Cæsar had no sooner separated his troops, and fixed his own quarters
at Sens, in the centre of Gaul, than he was surrounded and besieged, by a
numerous host of Germans. Reduced, in this extremity, to the resources of
his own mind, he displayed a prudent intrepidity, which compensated for
all the deficiencies of the place and garrison; and the Barbarians, at the
end of thirty days, were obliged to retire with disappointed rage.
The conscious pride of Julian, who was indebted only to his sword for this
signal deliverance, was imbittered by the reflection, that he was
abandoned, betrayed, and perhaps devoted to destruction, by those who were
bound to assist him, by every tie of honor and fidelity. Marcellus,
master-general of the cavalry in Gaul, interpreting too strictly the
jealous orders of the court, beheld with supine indifference the distress
of Julian, and had restrained the troops under his command from marching
to the relief of Sens. If the Cæsar had dissembled in silence so
dangerous an insult, his person and authority would have been exposed to
the contempt of the world; and if an action so criminal had been suffered
to pass with impunity, the emperor would have confirmed the suspicions,
which received a very specious color from his past conduct towards the
princes of the Flavian family. Marcellus was recalled, and gently
dismissed from his office. 71 In his room Severus was appointed general of
the cavalry; an experienced soldier, of approved courage and fidelity, who
could advise with respect, and execute with zeal; and who submitted,
without reluctance to the supreme command which Julian, by the inrerest of
his patroness Eusebia, at length obtained over the armies of Gaul. 72
A very judicious plan of operations was adopted for the approaching
campaign. Julian himself, at the head of the remains of the veteran bands,
and of some new levies which he had been permitted to form, boldly
penetrated into the centre of the German cantonments, and carefully
reestablished the fortifications of Saverne, in an advantageous post,
which would either check the incursions, or intercept the retreat, of the
enemy. At the same time, Barbatio, general of the infantry, advanced from
Milan with an army of thirty thousand men, and passing the mountains,
prepared to throw a bridge over the Rhine, in the neighborhood of Basil.
It was reasonable to expect that the Alemanni, pressed on either side by
the Roman arms, would soon be forced to evacuate the provinces of Gaul,
and to hasten to the defence of their native country. But the hopes of the
campaign were defeated by the incapacity, or the envy, or the secret
instructions, of Barbatio; who acted as if he had been the enemy of the
Cæsar, and the secret ally of the Barbarians. The negligence with which
he permitted a troop of pillagers freely to pass, and to return almost
before the gates of his camp, may be imputed to his want of abilities; but
the treasonable act of burning a number of boats, and a superfluous stock
of provisions, which would have been of the most essential service to the
army of Gaul, was an evidence of his hostile and criminal intentions. The
Germans despised an enemy who appeared destitute either of power or of
inclination to offend them; and the ignominious retreat of Barbatio
deprived Julian of the expected support; and left him to extricate himself
from a hazardous situation, where he could neither remain with safety, nor
retire with honor. 73
As soon as they were delivered from the fears of invasion, the Alemanni
prepared to chastise the Roman youth, who presumed to dispute the
possession of that country, which they claimed as their own by the right
of conquest and of treaties. They employed three days, and as many nights,
in transporting over the Rhine their military powers. The fierce
Chnodomar, shaking the ponderous javelin which he had victoriously wielded
against the brother of Magnentius, led the van of the Barbarians, and
moderated by his experience the martial ardor which his example inspired.
74
He was followed by six other kings, by ten princes of regal extraction, by
a long train of high-spirited nobles, and by thirty-five thousand of the
bravest warriors of the tribes of Germany. The confidence derived from the
view of their own strength, was increased by the intelligence which they
received from a deserter, that the Cæsar, with a feeble army of thirteen
thousand men, occupied a post about one-and-twenty miles from their camp
of Strasburgh. With this inadequate force, Julian resolved to seek and to
encounter the Barbarian host; and the chance of a general action was
preferred to the tedious and uncertain operation of separately engaging
the dispersed parties of the Alemanni. The Romans marched in close order,
and in two columns; the cavalry on the right, the infantry on the left;
and the day was so far spent when they appeared in sight of the enemy,
that Julian was desirous of deferring the battle till the next morning,
and of allowing his troops to recruit their exhausted strength by the
necessary refreshments of sleep and food. Yielding, however, with some
reluctance, to the clamors of the soldiers, and even to the opinion of his
council, he exhorted them to justify by their valor the eager impatience,
which, in case of a defeat, would be universally branded with the epithets
of rashness and presumption. The trumpets sounded, the military shout was
heard through the field, and the two armies rushed with equal fury to the
charge. The Cæsar, who conducted in person his right wing, depended on
the dexterity of his archers, and the weight of his cuirassiers. But his
ranks were instantly broken by an irregular mixture of light horse and of
light infantry, and he had the mortification of beholding the flight of
six hundred of his most renowned cuirassiers. 75 The fugitives were
stopped and rallied by the presence and authority of Julian, who, careless
of his own safety, threw himself before them, and urging every motive of
shame and honor, led them back against the victorious enemy. The conflict
between the two lines of infantry was obstinate and bloody. The Germans
possessed the superiority of strength and stature, the Romans that of
discipline and temper; and as the Barbarians, who served under the
standard of the empire, united the respective advantages of both parties,
their strenuous efforts, guided by a skilful leader, at length determined
the event of the day. The Romans lost four tribunes, and two hundred and
forty-three soldiers, in this memorable battle of Strasburgh, so glorious
to the Cæsar, 76 and so salutary to the afflicted provinces of
Gaul. Six thousand of the Alemanni were slain in the field, without
including those who were drowned in the Rhine, or transfixed with darts
while they attempted to swim across the river. 77 Chnodomar himself was
surrounded and taken prisoner, with three of his brave companions, who had
devoted themselves to follow in life or death the fate of their chieftain.
Julian received him with military pomp in the council of his officers; and
expressing a generous pity for the fallen state, dissembled his inward
contempt for the abject humiliation, of his captive. Instead of exhibiting
the vanquished king of the Alemanni, as a grateful spectacle to the cities
of Gaul, he respectfully laid at the feet of the emperor this splendid
trophy of his victory. Chnodomar experienced an honorable treatment: but
the impatient Barbarian could not long survive his defeat, his
confinement, and his exile. 78
After Julian had repulsed the Alemanni from the provinces of the Upper
Rhine, he turned his arms against the Franks, who were seated nearer to
the ocean, on the confines of Gaul and Germany; and who, from their
numbers, and still more from their intrepid valor, had ever been esteemed
the most formidable of the Barbarians. 79 Although they were
strongly actuated by the allurements of rapine, they professed a
disinterested love of war; which they considered as the supreme honor and
felicity of human nature; and their minds and bodies were so completely
hardened by perpetual action, that, according to the lively expression of
an orator, the snows of winter were as pleasant to them as the flowers of
spring. In the month of December, which followed the battle of Strasburgh,
Julian attacked a body of six hundred Franks, who had thrown themselves
into two castles on the Meuse. 80 In the midst of that
severe season they sustained, with inflexible constancy, a siege of
fifty-four days; till at length, exhausted by hunger, and satisfied that
the vigilance of the enemy, in breaking the ice of the river, left them no
hopes of escape, the Franks consented, for the first time, to dispense
with the ancient law which commanded them to conquer or to die. The Cæsar
immediately sent his captives to the court of Constantius, who, accepting
them as a valuable present, 81 rejoiced in the
opportunity of adding so many heroes to the choicest troops of his
domestic guards. The obstinate resistance of this handful of Franks
apprised Julian of the difficulties of the expedition which he meditated
for the ensuing spring, against the whole body of the nation. His rapid
diligence surprised and astonished the active Barbarians. Ordering his
soldiers to provide themselves with biscuit for twenty days, he suddenly
pitched his camp near Tongres, while the enemy still supposed him in his
winter quarters of Paris, expecting the slow arrival of his convoys from
Aquitain. Without allowing the Franks to unite or deliberate, he skilfully
spread his legions from Cologne to the ocean; and by the terror, as well
as by the success, of his arms, soon reduced the suppliant tribes to
implore the clemency, and to obey the commands, of their conqueror. The
Chamavians submissively retired to their former habitations beyond the
Rhine; but the Salians were permitted to possess their new establishment
of Toxandria, as the subjects and auxiliaries of the Roman empire. 82
The treaty was ratified by solemn oaths; and perpetual inspectors were
appointed to reside among the Franks, with the authority of enforcing the
strict observance of the conditions. An incident is related, interesting
enough in itself, and by no means repugnant to the character of Julian,
who ingeniously contrived both the plot and the catastrophe of the
tragedy. When the Chamavians sued for peace, he required the son of their
king, as the only hostage on whom he could rely. A mournful silence,
interrupted by tears and groans, declared the sad perplexity of the
Barbarians; and their aged chief lamented in pathetic language, that his
private loss was now imbittered by a sense of public calamity. While the
Chamavians lay prostrate at the foot of his throne, the royal captive,
whom they believed to have been slain, unexpectedly appeared before their
eyes; and as soon as the tumult of joy was hushed into attention, the
Cæsar addressed the assembly in the following terms: “Behold the son, the
prince, whom you wept. You had lost him by your fault. God and the Romans
have restored him to you. I shall still preserve and educate the youth,
rather as a monument of my own virtue, than as a pledge of your sincerity.
Should you presume to violate the faith which you have sworn, the arms of
the republic will avenge the perfidy, not on the innocent, but on the
guilty.” The Barbarians withdrew from his presence, impressed with the
warmest sentiments of gratitude and admiration. 83
It was not enough for Julian to have delivered the provinces of Gaul from
the Barbarians of Germany. He aspired to emulate the glory of the first
and most illustrious of the emperors; after whose example, he composed his
own commentaries of the Gallic war. 84 Cæsar has related,
with conscious pride, the manner in which he twice passed the Rhine.
Julian could boast, that before he assumed the title of Augustus, he had
carried the Roman eagles beyond that great river in three successful
expeditions. 85 The consternation of the Germans, after the
battle of Strasburgh, encouraged him to the first attempt; and the
reluctance of the troops soon yielded to the persuasive eloquence of a
leader, who shared the fatigues and dangers which he imposed on the
meanest of the soldiers. The villages on either side of the Meyn, which
were plentifully stored with corn and cattle, felt the ravages of an
invading army. The principal houses, constructed with some imitation of
Roman elegance, were consumed by the flames; and the Cæsar boldly
advanced about ten miles, till his progress was stopped by a dark and
impenetrable forest, undermined by subterraneous passages, which
threatened with secret snares and ambush every step of the assailants. The
ground was already covered with snow; and Julian, after repairing an
ancient castle which had been erected by Trajan, granted a truce of ten
months to the submissive Barbarians. At the expiration of the truce,
Julian undertook a second expedition beyond the Rhine, to humble the pride
of Surmar and Hortaire, two of the kings of the Alemanni, who had been
present at the battle of Strasburgh. They promised to restore all the
Roman captives who yet remained alive; and as the Cæsar had procured an
exact account from the cities and villages of Gaul, of the inhabitants
whom they had lost, he detected every attempt to deceive him, with a
degree of readiness and accuracy, which almost established the belief of
his supernatural knowledge. His third expedition was still more splendid
and important than the two former. The Germans had collected their
military powers, and moved along the opposite banks of the river, with a
design of destroying the bridge, and of preventing the passage of the
Romans. But this judicious plan of defence was disconcerted by a skilful
diversion. Three hundred light-armed and active soldiers were detached in
forty small boats, to fall down the stream in silence, and to land at some
distance from the posts of the enemy. They executed their orders with so
much boldness and celerity, that they had almost surprised the Barbarian
chiefs, who returned in the fearless confidence of intoxication from one
of their nocturnal festivals. Without repeating the uniform and disgusting
tale of slaughter and devastation, it is sufficient to observe, that
Julian dictated his own conditions of peace to six of the haughtiest kings
of the Alemanni, three of whom were permitted to view the severe
discipline and martial pomp of a Roman camp. Followed by twenty thousand
captives, whom he had rescued from the chains of the Barbarians, the
Cæsar repassed the Rhine, after terminating a war, the success of which
has been compared to the ancient glories of the Punic and Cimbric
victories.
As soon as the valor and conduct of Julian had secured an interval of
peace, he applied himself to a work more congenial to his humane and
philosophic temper. The cities of Gaul, which had suffered from the
inroads of the Barbarians, he diligently repaired; and seven important
posts, between Mentz and the mouth of the Rhine, are particularly
mentioned, as having been rebuilt and fortified by the order of Julian. 86
The vanquished Germans had submitted to the just but humiliating condition
of preparing and conveying the necessary materials. The active zeal of
Julian urged the prosecution of the work; and such was the spirit which he
had diffused among the troops, that the auxiliaries themselves, waiving
their exemption from any duties of fatigue, contended in the most servile
labors with the diligence of the Roman soldiers. It was incumbent on the
Cæsar to provide for the subsistence, as well as for the safety, of the
inhabitants and of the garrisons. The desertion of the former, and the
mutiny of the latter, must have been the fatal and inevitable consequences
of famine. The tillage of the provinces of Gaul had been interrupted by
the calamities of war; but the scanty harvests of the continent were
supplied, by his paternal care, from the plenty of the adjacent island.
Six hundred large barks, framed in the forest of the Ardennes, made
several voyages to the coast of Britain; and returning from thence, laden
with corn, sailed up the Rhine, and distributed their cargoes to the
several towns and fortresses along the banks of the river. 87
The arms of Julian had restored a free and secure navigation, which
Constantinius had offered to purchase at the expense of his dignity, and
of a tributary present of two thousand pounds of silver. The emperor
parsimoniously refused to his soldiers the sums which he granted with a
lavish and trembling hand to the Barbarians. The dexterity, as well as the
firmness, of Julian was put to a severe trial, when he took the field with
a discontented army, which had already served two campaigns, without
receiving any regular pay or any extraordinary donative. 88
A tender regard for the peace and happiness of his subjects was the ruling
principle which directed, or seemed to direct, the administration of
Julian. 89 He devoted the leisure of his winter quarters
to the offices of civil government; and affected to assume, with more
pleasure, the character of a magistrate than that of a general. Before he
took the field, he devolved on the provincial governors most of the public
and private causes which had been referred to his tribunal; but, on his
return, he carefully revised their proceedings, mitigated the rigor of the
law, and pronounced a second judgment on the judges themselves. Superior
to the last temptation of virtuous minds, an indiscreet and intemperate
zeal for justice, he restrained, with calmness and dignity, the warmth of
an advocate, who prosecuted, for extortion, the president of the
Narbonnese province. “Who will ever be found guilty,” exclaimed the
vehement Delphidius, “if it be enough to deny?” “And who,” replied Julian,
“will ever be innocent, if it be sufficient to affirm?” In the general
administration of peace and war, the interest of the sovereign is commonly
the same as that of his people; but Constantius would have thought himself
deeply injured, if the virtues of Julian had defrauded him of any part of
the tribute which he extorted from an oppressed and exhausted country. The
prince who was invested with the ensigns of royalty, might sometimes
presume to correct the rapacious insolence of his inferior agents, to
expose their corrupt arts, and to introduce an equal and easier mode of
collection. But the management of the finances was more safely intrusted
to Florentius, prætorian præfect of Gaul, an effeminate tyrant,
incapable of pity or remorse: and the haughty minister complained of the
most decent and gentle opposition, while Julian himself was rather
inclined to censure the weakness of his own behavior. The Cæsar had
rejected, with abhorrence, a mandate for the levy of an extraordinary tax;
a new superindiction, which the præfect had offered for his signature;
and the faithful picture of the public misery, by which he had been
obliged to justify his refusal, offended the court of Constantius. We may
enjoy the pleasure of reading the sentiments of Julian, as he expresses
them with warmth and freedom in a letter to one of his most intimate
friends. After stating his own conduct, he proceeds in the following
terms: “Was it possible for the disciple of Plato and Aristotle to act
otherwise than I have done? Could I abandon the unhappy subjects intrusted
to my care? Was I not called upon to defend them from the repeated
injuries of these unfeeling robbers? A tribune who deserts his post is
punished with death, and deprived of the honors of burial. With what
justice could I pronounce his sentence, if, in the hour of danger, I
myself neglected a duty far more sacred and far more important? God has
placed me in this elevated post; his providence will guard and support me.
Should I be condemned to suffer, I shall derive comfort from the testimony
of a pure and upright conscience. Would to Heaven that I still possessed a
counsellor like Sallust! If they think proper to send me a successor, I
shall submit without reluctance; and had much rather improve the short
opportunity of doing good, than enjoy a long and lasting impunity of
evil.” 90 The precarious and dependent situation of
Julian displayed his virtues and concealed his defects. The young hero who
supported, in Gaul, the throne of Constantius, was not permitted to reform
the vices of the government; but he had courage to alleviate or to pity
the distress of the people. Unless he had been able to revive the martial
spirit of the Romans, or to introduce the arts of industry and refinement
among their savage enemies, he could not entertain any rational hopes of
securing the public tranquillity, either by the peace or conquest of
Germany. Yet the victories of Julian suspended, for a short time, the
inroads of the Barbarians, and delayed the ruin of the Western Empire.
His salutary influence restored the cities of Gaul, which had been so long
exposed to the evils of civil discord, Barbarian war, and domestic
tyranny; and the spirit of industry was revived with the hopes of
enjoyment. Agriculture, manufactures, and commerce, again flourished under
the protection of the laws; and the curiæ, or civil corporations, were
again filled with useful and respectable members: the youth were no longer
apprehensive of marriage; and married persons were no longer apprehensive
of posterity: the public and private festivals were celebrated with
customary pomp; and the frequent and secure intercourse of the provinces
displayed the image of national prosperity. 91 A mind like that of
Julian must have felt the general happiness of which he was the author;
but he viewed, with particular satisfaction and complacency, the city of
Paris; the seat of his winter residence, and the object even of his
partial affection. 92 That splendid capital, which now embraces an
ample territory on either side of the Seine, was originally confined to
the small island in the midst of the river, from whence the inhabitants
derived a supply of pure and salubrious water. The river bathed the foot
of the walls; and the town was accessible only by two wooden bridges. A
forest overspread the northern side of the Seine, but on the south, the
ground, which now bears the name of the University, was insensibly covered
with houses, and adorned with a palace and amphitheatre, baths, an
aqueduct, and a field of Mars for the exercise of the Roman troops. The
severity of the climate was tempered by the neighborhood of the ocean; and
with some precautions, which experience had taught, the vine and fig-tree
were successfully cultivated. But in remarkable winters, the Seine was
deeply frozen; and the huge pieces of ice that floated down the stream,
might be compared, by an Asiatic, to the blocks of white marble which were
extracted from the quarries of Phrygia. The licentiousness and corruption
of Antioch recalled to the memory of Julian the severe and simple manners
of his beloved Lutetia; 93 where the amusements of the theatre were
unknown or despised. He indignantly contrasted the effeminate Syrians with
the brave and honest simplicity of the Gauls, and almost forgave the
intemperance, which was the only stain of the Celtic character. 94
If Julian could now revisit the capital of France, he might converse with
men of science and genius, capable of understanding and of instructing a
disciple of the Greeks; he might excuse the lively and graceful follies of
a nation, whose martial spirit has never been enervated by the indulgence
of luxury; and he must applaud the perfection of that inestimable art,
which softens and refines and embellishes the intercourse of social life.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part I.
The Motives, Progress, And Effects Of The Conversion Of
Constantine.—Legal Establishment And Constitution Of The Christian Or
Catholic Church.
The public establishment of Christianity may be considered as one of those
important and domestic revolutions which excite the most lively curiosity, and
afford the most valuable instruction. The victories and the civil policy of
Constantine no longer influence the state of Europe; but a considerable portion
of the globe still retains the impression which it received from the conversion
of that monarch; and the ecclesiastical institutions of his reign are still
connected, by an indissoluble chain, with the opinions, the passions, and the
interests of the present generation. In the consideration of a subject which
may be examined with impartiality, but cannot be viewed with indifference, a
difficulty immediately arises of a very unexpected nature; that of ascertaining
the real and precise date of the conversion of Constantine. The eloquent
Lactantius, in the midst of his court, seems impatient 1 to proclaim to the world the
glorious example of the sovereign of Gaul; who, in the first moments of his
reign, acknowledged and adored the majesty of the true and only God. 2 The
learned Eusebius has ascribed the faith of Constantine to the miraculous sign
which was displayed in the heavens whilst he meditated and prepared the Italian
expedition. 3 The historian Zosimus maliciously asserts, that the
emperor had imbrued his hands in the blood of his eldest son, before he
publicly renounced the gods of Rome and of his ancestors. 4 The
perplexity produced by these discordant authorities is derived from the
behavior of Constantine himself. According to the strictness of ecclesiastical
language, the first of the Christian emperors was unworthy of that name,
till the moment of his death; since it was only during his last illness that he
received, as a catechumen, the imposition of hands, 5 and was afterwards admitted,
by the initiatory rites of baptism, into the number of the faithful. 6 The
Christianity of Constantine must be allowed in a much more vague and qualified
sense; and the nicest accuracy is required in tracing the slow and almost
imperceptible gradations by which the monarch declared himself the protector,
and at length the proselyte, of the church. It was an arduous task to eradicate
the habits and prejudices of his education, to acknowledge the divine power of
Christ, and to understand that the truth of his revelation was
incompatible with the worship of the gods. The obstacles which he had probably
experienced in his own mind, instructed him to proceed with caution in the
momentous change of a national religion; and he insensibly discovered his new
opinions, as far as he could enforce them with safety and with effect. During
the whole course of his reign, the stream of Christianity flowed with a gentle,
though accelerated, motion: but its general direction was sometimes checked,
and sometimes diverted, by the accidental circumstances of the times, and by
the prudence, or possibly by the caprice, of the monarch. His ministers were
permitted to signify the intentions of their master in the various language
which was best adapted to their respective principles; 7 and he artfully balanced the
hopes and fears of his subjects, by publishing in the same year two edicts; the
first of which enjoined the solemn observance of Sunday, 8 and the
second directed the regular consultation of the Aruspices. 9 While
this important revolution yet remained in suspense, the Christians and the
Pagans watched the conduct of their sovereign with the same anxiety, but with
very opposite sentiments. The former were prompted by every motive of zeal, as
well as vanity, to exaggerate the marks of his favor, and the evidences of his
faith. The latter, till their just apprehensions were changed into despair and
resentment, attempted to conceal from the world, and from themselves, that the
gods of Rome could no longer reckon the emperor in the number of their
votaries. The same passions and prejudices have engaged the partial writers of
the times to connect the public profession of Christianity with the most
glorious or the most ignominious æra of the reign of Constantine.
Whatever symptoms of Christian piety might transpire in the discourses or
actions of Constantine, he persevered till he was near forty years of age in
the practice of the established religion; 10 and the same conduct which
in the court of Nicomedia might be imputed to his fear, could be ascribed only
to the inclination or policy of the sovereign of Gaul. His liberality restored
and enriched the temples of the gods; the medals which issued from his Imperial
mint are impressed with the figures and attributes of Jupiter and Apollo, of
Mars and Hercules; and his filial piety increased the council of Olympus by the
solemn apotheosis of his father Constantius. 11 But the devotion of
Constantine was more peculiarly directed to the genius of the Sun, the Apollo
of Greek and Roman mythology; and he was pleased to be represented with the
symbols of the God of Light and Poetry. The unerring shafts of that deity, the
brightness of his eyes, his laurel wreath, immortal beauty, and elegant
accomplishments, seem to point him out as the patron of a young hero. The
altars of Apollo were crowned with the votive offerings of Constantine; and the
credulous multitude were taught to believe, that the emperor was permitted to
behold with mortal eyes the visible majesty of their tutelar deity; and that,
either walking or in a vision, he was blessed with the auspicious omens of a
long and victorious reign. The Sun was universally celebrated as the invincible
guide and protector of Constantine; and the Pagans might reasonably expect that
the insulted god would pursue with unrelenting vengeance the impiety of his
ungrateful favorite. 12
As long as Constantine exercised a limited sovereignty over the provinces of
Gaul, his Christian subjects were protected by the authority, and perhaps by
the laws, of a prince, who wisely left to the gods the care of vindicating
their own honor. If we may credit the assertion of Constantine himself, he had
been an indignant spectator of the savage cruelties which were inflicted, by
the hands of Roman soldiers, on those citizens whose religion was their only
crime. 13 In the East and in the West, he had seen the
different effects of severity and indulgence; and as the former was rendered
still more odious by the example of Galerius, his implacable enemy, the latter
was recommended to his imitation by the authority and advice of a dying father.
The son of Constantius immediately suspended or repealed the edicts of
persecution, and granted the free exercise of their religious ceremonies to all
those who had already professed themselves members of the church. They were
soon encouraged to depend on the favor as well as on the justice of their
sovereign, who had imbibed a secret and sincere reverence for the name of
Christ, and for the God of the Christians. 14
About five months after the conquest of Italy, the emperor made a solemn and
authentic declaration of his sentiments by the celebrated edict of Milan, which
restored peace to the Catholic church. In the personal interview of the two
western princes, Constantine, by the ascendant of genius and power, obtained
the ready concurrence of his colleague, Licinius; the union of their names and
authority disarmed the fury of Maximin; and after the death of the tyrant of
the East, the edict of Milan was received as a general and fundamental law of
the Roman world. 15
The wisdom of the emperors provided for the restitution of all the civil and
religious rights of which the Christians had been so unjustly deprived. It was
enacted that the places of worship, and public lands, which had been
confiscated, should be restored to the church, without dispute, without delay,
and without expense; and this severe injunction was accompanied with a gracious
promise, that if any of the purchasers had paid a fair and adequate price, they
should be indemnified from the Imperial treasury. The salutary regulations
which guard the future tranquillity of the faithful are framed on the
principles of enlarged and equal toleration; and such an equality must have
been interpreted by a recent sect as an advantageous and honorable distinction.
The two emperors proclaim to the world, that they have granted a free and
absolute power to the Christians, and to all others, of following the religion
which each individual thinks proper to prefer, to which he has addicted his
mind, and which he may deem the best adapted to his own use. They carefully
explain every ambiguous word, remove every exception, and exact from the
governors of the provinces a strict obedience to the true and simple meaning of
an edict, which was designed to establish and secure, without any limitation,
the claims of religious liberty. They condescend to assign two weighty reasons
which have induced them to allow this universal toleration: the humane
intention of consulting the peace and happiness of their people; and the pious
hope, that, by such a conduct, they shall appease and propitiate the
Deity, whose seat is in heaven. They gratefully acknowledge the many signal
proofs which they have received of the divine favor; and they trust that the
same Providence will forever continue to protect the prosperity of the prince
and people. From these vague and indefinite expressions of piety, three
suppositions may be deduced, of a different, but not of an incompatible nature.
The mind of Constantine might fluctuate between the Pagan and the Christian
religions. According to the loose and complying notions of Polytheism, he might
acknowledge the God of the Christians as one of the many deities
who compose the hierarchy of heaven. Or perhaps he might embrace the
philosophic and pleasing idea, that, notwithstanding the variety of names, of
rites, and of opinions, all the sects, and all the nations of mankind, are
united in the worship of the common Father and Creator of the universe. 16
But the counsels of princes are more frequently influenced by views of temporal
advantage, than by considerations of abstract and speculative truth. The
partial and increasing favor of Constantine may naturally be referred to the
esteem which he entertained for the moral character of the Christians; and to a
persuasion, that the propagation of the gospel would inculcate the practice of
private and public virtue. Whatever latitude an absolute monarch may assume in
his own conduct, whatever indulgence he may claim for his own passions, it is
undoubtedly his interest that all his subjects should respect the natural and
civil obligations of society. But the operation of the wisest laws is imperfect
and precarious. They seldom inspire virtue, they cannot always restrain vice.
Their power is insufficient to prohibit all that they condemn, nor can they
always punish the actions which they prohibit. The legislators of antiquity had
summoned to their aid the powers of education and of opinion. But every
principle which had once maintained the vigor and purity of Rome and Sparta,
was long since extinguished in a declining and despotic empire. Philosophy
still exercised her temperate sway over the human mind, but the cause of virtue
derived very feeble support from the influence of the Pagan superstition. Under
these discouraging circumstances, a prudent magistrate might observe with
pleasure the progress of a religion which diffused among the people a pure,
benevolent, and universal system of ethics, adapted to every duty and every
condition of life; recommended as the will and reason of the supreme Deity, and
enforced by the sanction of eternal rewards or punishments. The experience of
Greek and Roman history could not inform the world how far the system of
national manners might be reformed and improved by the precepts of a divine
revelation; and Constantine might listen with some confidence to the
flattering, and indeed reasonable, assurances of Lactantius. The eloquent
apologist seemed firmly to expect, and almost ventured to promise, that
the establishment of Christianity would restore the innocence and felicity of
the primitive age; that the worship of the true God would extinguish war
and dissension among those who mutually considered themselves as the children
of a common parent; that every impure desire, every angry or selfish
passion, would be restrained by the knowledge of the gospel; and that
the magistrates might sheath the sword of justice among a people who would be
universally actuated by the sentiments of truth and piety, of equity and
moderation, of harmony and universal love. 17
The passive and unresisting obedience, which bows under the yoke of authority,
or even of oppression, must have appeared, in the eyes of an absolute monarch,
the most conspicuous and useful of the evangelic virtues. 18 The
primitive Christians derived the institution of civil government, not from the
consent of the people, but from the decrees of Heaven. The reigning emperor,
though he had usurped the sceptre by treason and murder, immediately assumed
the sacred character of vicegerent of the Deity. To the Deity alone he was
accountable for the abuse of his power; and his subjects were indissolubly
bound, by their oath of fidelity, to a tyrant, who had violated every law of
nature and society. The humble Christians were sent into the world as sheep
among wolves; and since they were not permitted to employ force even in the
defence of their religion, they should be still more criminal if they were
tempted to shed the blood of their fellow-creatures in disputing the vain
privileges, or the sordid possessions, of this transitory life. Faithful to the
doctrine of the apostle, who in the reign of Nero had preached the duty of
unconditional submission, the Christians of the three first centuries preserved
their conscience pure and innocent of the guilt of secret conspiracy, or open
rebellion. While they experienced the rigor of persecution, they were never
provoked either to meet their tyrants in the field, or indignantly to withdraw
themselves into some remote and sequestered corner of the globe. 19 The
Protestants of France, of Germany, and of Britain, who asserted with such
intrepid courage their civil and religious freedom, have been insulted by the
invidious comparison between the conduct of the primitive and of the reformed
Christians. 20 Perhaps, instead of censure, some applause may be
due to the superior sense and spirit of our ancestors, who had convinced
themselves that religion cannot abolish the unalienable rights of human nature.
21
Perhaps the patience of the primitive church may be ascribed to its weakness,
as well as to its virtue.
A sect of unwarlike plebeians, without leaders, without arms, without
fortifications, must have encountered inevitable destruction in a rash and
fruitless resistance to the master of the Roman legions. But the Christians,
when they deprecated the wrath of Diocletian, or solicited the favor of
Constantine, could allege, with truth and confidence, that they held the
principle of passive obedience, and that, in the space of three centuries,
their conduct had always been conformable to their principles. They might add,
that the throne of the emperors would be established on a fixed and permanent
basis, if all their subjects, embracing the Christian doctrine, should learn to
suffer and to obey.
In the general order of Providence, princes and tyrants are considered as the
ministers of Heaven, appointed to rule or to chastise the nations of the earth.
But sacred history affords many illustrious examples of the more immediate
interposition of the Deity in the government of his chosen people. The sceptre
and the sword were committed to the hands of Moses, of Joshua, of Gideon, of
David, of the Maccabees; the virtues of those heroes were the motive or the
effect of the divine favor, the success of their arms was destined to achieve
the deliverance or the triumph of the church. If the judges of Israel were
occasional and temporary magistrates, the kings of Judah derived from the royal
unction of their great ancestor an hereditary and indefeasible right, which
could not be forfeited by their own vices, nor recalled by the caprice of their
subjects. The same extraordinary providence, which was no longer confined to
the Jewish people, might elect Constantine and his family as the protectors of
the Christian world; and the devout Lactantius announces, in a prophetic tone,
the future glories of his long and universal reign. 22 Galerius and Maximin,
Maxentius and Licinius, were the rivals who shared with the favorite of heaven
the provinces of the empire. The tragic deaths of Galerius and Maximin soon
gratified the resentment, and fulfilled the sanguine expectations, of the
Christians. The success of Constantine against Maxentius and Licinius removed
the two formidable competitors who still opposed the triumph of the second
David, and his cause might seem to claim the peculiar interposition of
Providence. The character of the Roman tyrant disgraced the purple and human
nature; and though the Christians might enjoy his precarious favor, they were
exposed, with the rest of his subjects, to the effects of his wanton and
capricious cruelty. The conduct of Licinius soon betrayed the reluctance with
which he had consented to the wise and humane regulations of the edict of
Milan. The convocation of provincial synods was prohibited in his dominions;
his Christian officers were ignominiously dismissed; and if he avoided the
guilt, or rather danger, of a general persecution, his partial oppressions were
rendered still more odious by the violation of a solemn and voluntary
engagement. 23 While the East, according to the lively expression
of Eusebius, was involved in the shades of infernal darkness, the auspicious
rays of celestial light warmed and illuminated the provinces of the West. The
piety of Constantine was admitted as an unexceptionable proof of the justice of
his arms; and his use of victory confirmed the opinion of the Christians, that
their hero was inspired, and conducted, by the Lord of Hosts. The conquest of
Italy produced a general edict of toleration; and as soon as the defeat of
Licinius had invested Constantine with the sole dominion of the Roman world, he
immediately, by circular letters, exhorted all his subjects to imitate, without
delay, the example of their sovereign, and to embrace the divine truth of
Christianity. 24
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part II.
The assurance that the elevation of Constantine was intimately connected with
the designs of Providence, instilled into the minds of the Christians two
opinions, which, by very different means, assisted the accomplishment of the
prophecy. Their warm and active loyalty exhausted in his favor every resource
of human industry; and they confidently expected that their strenuous efforts
would be seconded by some divine and miraculous aid. The enemies of Constantine
have imputed to interested motives the alliance which he insensibly contracted
with the Catholic church, and which apparently contributed to the success of
his ambition. In the beginning of the fourth century, the Christians still bore
a very inadequate proportion to the inhabitants of the empire; but among a
degenerate people, who viewed the change of masters with the indifference of
slaves, the spirit and union of a religious party might assist the popular
leader, to whose service, from a principle of conscience, they had devoted
their lives and fortunes. 25 The example of his father had instructed
Constantine to esteem and to reward the merit of the Christians; and in the
distribution of public offices, he had the advantage of strengthening his
government, by the choice of ministers or generals, in whose fidelity he could
repose a just and unreserved confidence. By the influence of these dignified
missionaries, the proselytes of the new faith must have multiplied in the court
and army; the Barbarians of Germany, who filled the ranks of the legions, were
of a careless temper, which acquiesced without resistance in the religion of
their commander; and when they passed the Alps, it may fairly be presumed, that
a great number of the soldiers had already consecrated their swords to the
service of Christ and of Constantine. 26 The habits of mankind and
the interests of religion gradually abated the horror of war and bloodshed,
which had so long prevailed among the Christians; and in the councils which
were assembled under the gracious protection of Constantine, the authority of
the bishops was seasonably employed to ratify the obligation of the military
oath, and to inflict the penalty of excommunication on those soldiers who threw
away their arms during the peace of the church. 27 While Constantine, in his
own dominions, increased the number and zeal of his faithful adherents, he
could depend on the support of a powerful faction in those provinces which were
still possessed or usurped by his rivals. A secret disaffection was diffused
among the Christian subjects of Maxentius and Licinius; and the resentment,
which the latter did not attempt to conceal, served only to engage them still
more deeply in the interest of his competitor. The regular correspondence which
connected the bishops of the most distant provinces, enabled them freely to
communicate their wishes and their designs, and to transmit without danger any
useful intelligence, or any pious contributions, which might promote the
service of Constantine, who publicly declared that he had taken up arms for the
deliverance of the church. 28
The enthusiasm which inspired the troops, and perhaps the emperor himself, had
sharpened their swords while it satisfied their conscience. They marched to
battle with the full assurance, that the same God, who had formerly opened a
passage to the Israelites through the waters of Jordan, and had thrown down the
walls of Jericho at the sound of the trumpets of Joshua, would display his
visible majesty and power in the victory of Constantine. The evidence of
ecclesiastical history is prepared to affirm, that their expectations were
justified by the conspicuous miracle to which the conversion of the first
Christian emperor has been almost unanimously ascribed. The real or imaginary
cause of so important an event, deserves and demands the attention of
posterity; and I shall endeavor to form a just estimate of the famous vision of
Constantine, by a distinct consideration of the standard, the
dream, and the celestial sign; by separating the historical, the
natural, and the marvellous parts of this extraordinary story, which, in the
composition of a specious argument, have been artfully confounded in one
splendid and brittle mass.
I. An instrument of the tortures which were inflicted only on slaves and
strangers, became on object of horror in the eyes of a Roman citizen; and the
ideas of guilt, of pain, and of ignominy, were closely united with the idea of
the cross. 29 The piety, rather than the humanity, of
Constantine soon abolished in his dominions the punishment which the Savior of
mankind had condescended to suffer; 30 but the emperor had
already learned to despise the prejudices of his education, and of his people,
before he could erect in the midst of Rome his own statue, bearing a cross in
its right hand; with an inscription which referred the victory of his arms, and
the deliverance of Rome, to the virtue of that salutary sign, the true symbol
of force and courage. 31 The same symbol sanctified the arms of the
soldiers of Constantine; the cross glittered on their helmet, was engraved on
their shields, was interwoven into their banners; and the consecrated emblems
which adorned the person of the emperor himself, were distinguished only by
richer materials and more exquisite workmanship. 32 But the principal standard
which displayed the triumph of the cross was styled the Labarum, 33 an
obscure, though celebrated name, which has been vainly derived from almost all
the languages of the world. It is described 34 as a long pike intersected
by a transversal beam. The silken veil, which hung down from the beam, was
curiously inwrought with the images of the reigning monarch and his children.
The summit of the pike supported a crown of gold which enclosed the mysterious
monogram, at once expressive of the figure of the cross, and the initial
letters, of the name of Christ. 35 The safety of the labarum
was intrusted to fifty guards, of approved valor and fidelity; their station
was marked by honors and emoluments; and some fortunate accidents soon
introduced an opinion, that as long as the guards of the labarum were engaged
in the execution of their office, they were secure and invulnerable amidst the
darts of the enemy. In the second civil war, Licinius felt and dreaded the
power of this consecrated banner, the sight of which, in the distress of
battle, animated the soldiers of Constantine with an invincible enthusiasm, and
scattered terror and dismay through the ranks of the adverse legions. 36 The
Christian emperors, who respected the example of Constantine, displayed in all
their military expeditions the standard of the cross; but when the degenerate
successors of Theodosius had ceased to appear in person at the head of their
armies, the labarum was deposited as a venerable but useless relic in the
palace of Constantinople. 37 Its honors are still preserved on the medals of
the Flavian family. Their grateful devotion has placed the monogram of Christ
in the midst of the ensigns of Rome. The solemn epithets of, safety of the
republic, glory of the army, restoration of public happiness, are equally
applied to the religious and military trophies; and there is still extant a
medal of the emperor Constantius, where the standard of the labarum is
accompanied with these memorable words, BY THIS SIGN THOU SHALT
CONQUER. 38
![[Illustration]](images/fig01.jpg)
II. In all occasions of danger and distress, it was the practice of the
primitive Christians to fortify their minds and bodies by the sign of the
cross, which they used, in all their ecclesiastical rites, in all the daily
occurrences of life, as an infallible preservative against every species of
spiritual or temporal evil. 39 The authority of the church might alone have had
sufficient weight to justify the devotion of Constantine, who in the same
prudent and gradual progress acknowledged the truth, and assumed the symbol, of
Christianity. But the testimony of a contemporary writer, who in a formal
treatise has avenged the cause of religion, bestows on the piety of the emperor
a more awful and sublime character. He affirms, with the most perfect
confidence, that in the night which preceded the last battle against Maxentius,
Constantine was admonished in a dream 39a to inscribe the shields
of his soldiers with the celestial sign of God, the sacred monogram of
the name of Christ; that he executed the commands of Heaven, and that his valor
and obedience were rewarded by the decisive victory of the Milvian Bridge. Some
considerations might perhaps incline a sceptical mind to suspect the judgment
or the veracity of the rhetorician, whose pen, either from zeal or interest,
was devoted to the cause of the prevailing faction. 40 He appears to have
published his deaths of the persecutors at Nicomedia about three years after
the Roman victory; but the interval of a thousand miles, and a thousand days,
will allow an ample latitude for the invention of declaimers, the credulity of
party, and the tacit approbation of the emperor himself who might listen
without indignation to a marvellous tale, which exalted his fame, and promoted
his designs. In favor of Licinius, who still dissembled his animosity to the
Christians, the same author has provided a similar vision, of a form of prayer,
which was communicated by an angel, and repeated by the whole army before they
engaged the legions of the tyrant Maximin. The frequent repetition of miracles
serves to provoke, where it does not subdue, the reason of mankind; 41 but
if the dream of Constantine is separately considered, it may be naturally
explained either by the policy or the enthusiasm of the emperor. Whilst his
anxiety for the approaching day, which must decide the fate of the empire, was
suspended by a short and interrupted slumber, the venerable form of Christ, and
the well-known symbol of his religion, might forcibly offer themselves to the
active fancy of a prince who reverenced the name, and had perhaps secretly
implored the power, of the God of the Christians. As readily might a consummate
statesman indulge himself in the use of one of those military stratagems, one
of those pious frauds, which Philip and Sertorius had employed with such art
and effect. 42 The præternatural origin of dreams was
universally admitted by the nations of antiquity, and a considerable part of
the Gallic army was already prepared to place their confidence in the salutary
sign of the Christian religion. The secret vision of Constantine could be
disproved only by the event; and the intrepid hero who had passed the Alps and
the Apennine, might view with careless despair the consequences of a defeat
under the walls of Rome. The senate and people, exulting in their own
deliverance from an odious tyrant, acknowledged that the victory of Constantine
surpassed the powers of man, without daring to insinuate that it had been
obtained by the protection of the Gods. The triumphal arch, which was
erected about three years after the event, proclaims, in ambiguous language,
that by the greatness of his own mind, and by an instinct or impulse of
the Divinity, he had saved and avenged the Roman republic. 43 The
Pagan orator, who had seized an earlier opportunity of celebrating the virtues
of the conqueror, supposes that he alone enjoyed a secret and intimate commerce
with the Supreme Being, who delegated the care of mortals to his subordinate
deities; and thus assigns a very plausible reason why the subjects of
Constantine should not presume to embrace the new religion of their sovereign.
44
III. The philosopher, who with calm suspicion examines the dreams and omens,
the miracles and prodigies, of profane or even of ecclesiastical history, will
probably conclude, that if the eyes of the spectators have sometimes been
deceived by fraud, the understanding of the readers has much more frequently
been insulted by fiction. Every event, or appearance, or accident, which seems
to deviate from the ordinary course of nature, has been rashly ascribed to the
immediate action of the Deity; and the astonished fancy of the multitude has
sometimes given shape and color, language and motion, to the fleeting but
uncommon meteors of the air. 45 Nazarius and Eusebius are the two most celebrated
orators, who, in studied panegyrics, have labored to exalt the glory of
Constantine. Nine years after the Roman victory, Nazarius 46
describes an army of divine warriors, who seemed to fall from the sky: he marks
their beauty, their spirit, their gigantic forms, the stream of light which
beamed from their celestial armor, their patience in suffering themselves to be
heard, as well as seen, by mortals; and their declaration that they were sent,
that they flew, to the assistance of the great Constantine. For the truth of
this prodigy, the Pagan orator appeals to the whole Gallic nation, in whose
presence he was then speaking; and seems to hope that the ancient apparitions
47
would now obtain credit from this recent and public event. The Christian fable
of Eusebius, which, in the space of twenty-six years, might arise from the
original dream, is cast in a much more correct and elegant mould. In one of the
marches of Constantine, he is reported to have seen with his own eyes the
luminous trophy of the cross, placed above the meridian sun and inscribed with
the following words: BY THIS CONQUER. This amazing object in the
sky astonished the whole army, as well as the emperor himself, who was yet
undetermined in the choice of a religion: but his astonishment was converted
into faith by the vision of the ensuing night. Christ appeared before his eyes;
and displaying the same celestial sign of the cross, he directed Constantine to
frame a similar standard, and to march, with an assurance of victory, against
Maxentius and all his enemies. 48 The learned bishop of Cæsarea appears to be
sensible, that the recent discovery of this marvellous anecdote would excite
some surprise and distrust among the most pious of his readers. Yet, instead of
ascertaining the precise circumstances of time and place, which always serve to
detect falsehood or establish truth; 49 instead of collecting and
recording the evidence of so many living witnesses who must have been
spectators of this stupendous miracle; 50 Eusebius contents himself
with alleging a very singular testimony; that of the deceased Constantine, who,
many years after the event, in the freedom of conversation, had related to him
this extraordinary incident of his own life, and had attested the truth of it
by a solemn oath. The prudence and gratitude of the learned prelate forbade him
to suspect the veracity of his victorious master; but he plainly intimates,
that in a fact of such a nature, he should have refused his assent to any
meaner authority. This motive of credibility could not survive the power of the
Flavian family; and the celestial sign, which the Infidels might afterwards
deride, 51 was disregarded by the Christians of the age which
immediately followed the conversion of Constantine. 52 But the Catholic church,
both of the East and of the West, has adopted a prodigy which favors, or seems
to favor, the popular worship of the cross. The vision of Constantine
maintained an honorable place in the legend of superstition, till the bold and
sagacious spirit of criticism presumed to depreciate the triumph, and to
arraign the truth, of the first Christian emperor. 53
The Protestant and philosophic readers of the present age will incline to
believe, that in the account of his own conversion, Constantine attested a
wilful falsehood by a solemn and deliberate perjury. They may not hesitate to
pronounce, that in the choice of a religion, his mind was determined only by a
sense of interest; and that (according to the expression of a profane poet) 54 he
used the altars of the church as a convenient footstool to the throne of the
empire. A conclusion so harsh and so absolute is not, however, warranted by our
knowledge of human nature, of Constantine, or of Christianity. In an age of
religious fervor, the most artful statesmen are observed to feel some part of
the enthusiasm which they inspire, and the most orthodox saints assume the
dangerous privilege of defending the cause of truth by the arms of deceit and
falsehood.
Personal interest is often the standard of our belief, as well as of our
practice; and the same motives of temporal advantage which might influence the
public conduct and professions of Constantine, would insensibly dispose his
mind to embrace a religion so propitious to his fame and fortunes. His vanity
was gratified by the flattering assurance, that he had been chosen by
Heaven to reign over the earth; success had justified his divine title to the
throne, and that title was founded on the truth of the Christian revelation. As
real virtue is sometimes excited by undeserved applause, the specious piety of
Constantine, if at first it was only specious, might gradually, by the
influence of praise, of habit, and of example, be matured into serious faith
and fervent devotion. The bishops and teachers of the new sect, whose dress and
manners had not qualified them for the residence of a court, were admitted to
the Imperial table; they accompanied the monarch in his expeditions; and the
ascendant which one of them, an Egyptian or a Spaniard, 55
acquired over his mind, was imputed by the Pagans to the effect of magic. 56
Lactantius, who has adorned the precepts of the gospel with the eloquence of
Cicero, 57 and Eusebius, who has consecrated the learning and
philosophy of the Greeks to the service of religion, 58 were both received into
the friendship and familiarity of their sovereign; and those able masters of
controversy could patiently watch the soft and yielding moments of persuasion,
and dexterously apply the arguments which were the best adapted to his
character and understanding. Whatever advantages might be derived from the
acquisition of an Imperial proselyte, he was distinguished by the splendor of
his purple, rather than by the superiority of wisdom, or virtue, from the many
thousands of his subjects who had embraced the doctrines of Christianity. Nor
can it be deemed incredible, that the mind of an unlettered soldier should have
yielded to the weight of evidence, which, in a more enlightened age, has
satisfied or subdued the reason of a Grotius, a Pascal, or a Locke. In the
midst of the incessant labors of his great office, this soldier employed, or
affected to employ, the hours of the night in the diligent study of the
Scriptures, and the composition of theological discourses; which he afterwards
pronounced in the presence of a numerous and applauding audience. In a very
long discourse, which is still extant, the royal preacher expatiates on the
various proofs still extant, the royal preacher expatiates on the various
proofs of religion; but he dwells with peculiar complacency on the Sibylline
verses, 59 and the fourth eclogue of Virgil. 60
Forty years before the birth of Christ, the Mantuan bard, as if inspired by the
celestial muse of Isaiah, had celebrated, with all the pomp of oriental
metaphor, the return of the Virgin, the fall of the serpent, the approaching
birth of a godlike child, the offspring of the great Jupiter, who should
expiate the guilt of human kind, and govern the peaceful universe with the
virtues of his father; the rise and appearance of a heavenly race, primitive
nation throughout the world; and the gradual restoration of the innocence and
felicity of the golden age. The poet was perhaps unconscious of the secret
sense and object of these sublime predictions, which have been so unworthily
applied to the infant son of a consul, or a triumvir; 61 but if a more splendid,
and indeed specious interpretation of the fourth eclogue contributed to the
conversion of the first Christian emperor, Virgil may deserve to be ranked
among the most successful missionaries of the gospel. 62
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part III.
The awful mysteries of the Christian faith and worship were concealed from the
eyes of strangers, and even of catechu mens, with an affected secrecy, which
served to excite their wonder and curiosity. 63 But the severe rules of
discipline which the prudence of the bishops had instituted, were relaxed by
the same prudence in favor of an Imperial proselyte, whom it was so important
to allure, by every gentle condescension, into the pale of the church; and
Constantine was permitted, at least by a tacit dispensation, to enjoy
most of the privileges, before he had contracted any of the
obligations, of a Christian. Instead of retiring from the congregation, when
the voice of the deacon dismissed the profane multitude, he prayed with the
faithful, disputed with the bishops, preached on the most sublime and intricate
subjects of theology, celebrated with sacred rites the vigil of Easter, and
publicly declared himself, not only a partaker, but, in some measure, a priest
and hierophant of the Christian mysteries. 64 The pride of Constantine
might assume, and his services had deserved, some extraordinary distinction:
and ill-timed rigor might have blasted the unripened fruits of his conversion;
and if the doors of the church had been strictly closed against a prince who
had deserted the altars of the gods, the master of the empire would have been
left destitute of any form of religious worship. In his last visit to Rome, he
piously disclaimed and insulted the superstition of his ancestors, by refusing
to lead the military procession of the equestrian order, and to offer the
public vows to the Jupiter of the Capitoline Hill. 65 Many years before his
baptism and death, Constantine had proclaimed to the world, that neither his
person nor his image should ever more be seen within the walls of an idolatrous
temple; while he distributed through the provinces a variety of medals and
pictures, which represented the emperor in an humble and suppliant posture of
Christian devotion. 66
The pride of Constantine, who refused the privileges of a catechumen, cannot
easily be explained or excused; but the delay of his baptism may be justified
by the maxims and the practice of ecclesiastical antiquity. The sacrament of
baptism 67 was regularly administered by the bishop himself,
with his assistant clergy, in the cathedral church of the diocese, during the
fifty days between the solemn festivals of Easter and Pentecost; and this holy
term admitted a numerous band of infants and adult persons into the bosom of
the church. The discretion of parents often suspended the baptism of their
children till they could understand the obligations which they contracted: the
severity of ancient bishops exacted from the new converts a novitiate of two or
three years; and the catechumens themselves, from different motives of a
temporal or a spiritual nature, were seldom impatient to assume the character
of perfect and initiated Christians. The sacrament of baptism was supposed to
contain a full and absolute expiation of sin; and the soul was instantly
restored to its original purity, and entitled to the promise of eternal
salvation. Among the proselytes of Christianity, there are many who judged it
imprudent to precipitate a salutary rite, which could not be repeated; to throw
away an inestimable privilege, which could never be recovered. By the delay of
their baptism, they could venture freely to indulge their passions in the
enjoyments of this world, while they still retained in their own hands the
means of a sure and easy absolution. 68 The sublime theory of the
gospel had made a much fainter impression on the heart than on the
understanding of Constantine himself. He pursued the great object of his
ambition through the dark and bloody paths of war and policy; and, after the
victory, he abandoned himself, without moderation, to the abuse of his fortune.
Instead of asserting his just superiority above the imperfect heroism and
profane philosophy of Trajan and the Antonines, the mature age of Constantine
forfeited the reputation which he had acquired in his youth. As he gradually
advanced in the knowledge of truth, he proportionally declined in the practice
of virtue; and the same year of his reign in which he convened the council of
Nice, was polluted by the execution, or rather murder, of his eldest son. This
date is alone sufficient to refute the ignorant and malicious suggestions of
Zosimus, 69 who affirms, that, after the death of Crispus, the
remorse of his father accepted from the ministers of christianity the expiation
which he had vainly solicited from the Pagan pontiffs. At the time of the death
of Crispus, the emperor could no longer hesitate in the choice of a religion;
he could no longer be ignorant that the church was possessed of an infallible
remedy, though he chose to defer the application of it till the approach of
death had removed the temptation and danger of a relapse. The bishops whom he
summoned, in his last illness, to the palace of Nicomedia, were edified by the
fervor with which he requested and received the sacrament of baptism, by the
solemn protestation that the remainder of his life should be worthy of a
disciple of Christ, and by his humble refusal to wear the Imperial purple after
he had been clothed in the white garment of a Neophyte. The example and
reputation of Constantine seemed to countenance the delay of baptism. 70
Future tyrants were encouraged to believe, that the innocent blood which they
might shed in a long reign would instantly be washed away in the waters of
regeneration; and the abuse of religion dangerously undermined the foundations
of moral virtue.
The gratitude of the church has exalted the virtues and excused the failings of
a generous patron, who seated Christianity on the throne of the Roman world;
and the Greeks, who celebrate the festival of the Imperial saint, seldom
mention the name of Constantine without adding the title of equal to the
Apostles. 71 Such a comparison, if it allude to the character
of those divine missionaries, must be imputed to the extravagance of impious
flattery. But if the parallel be confined to the extent and number of their
evangelic victories the success of Constantine might perhaps equal that of the
Apostles themselves. By the edicts of toleration, he removed the temporal
disadvantages which had hitherto retarded the progress of Christianity; and its
active and numerous ministers received a free permission, a liberal
encouragement, to recommend the salutary truths of revelation by every argument
which could affect the reason or piety of mankind. The exact balance of the two
religions continued but a moment; and the piercing eye of ambition and avarice
soon discovered, that the profession of Christianity might contribute to the
interest of the present, as well as of a future life. 72 The hopes of wealth and
honors, the example of an emperor, his exhortations, his irresistible smiles,
diffused conviction among the venal and obsequious crowds which usually fill
the apartments of a palace. The cities which signalized a forward zeal by the
voluntary destruction of their temples, were distinguished by municipal
privileges, and rewarded with popular donatives; and the new capital of the
East gloried in the singular advantage that Constantinople was never profaned
by the worship of idols. 73 As the lower ranks of society are governed by
imitation, the conversion of those who possessed any eminence of birth, of
power, or of riches, was soon followed by dependent multitudes. 74 The
salvation of the common people was purchased at an easy rate, if it be true
that, in one year, twelve thousand men were baptized at Rome, besides a
proportionable number of women and children, and that a white garment, with
twenty pieces of gold, had been promised by the emperor to every convert. 75 The
powerful influence of Constantine was not circumscribed by the narrow limits of
his life, or of his dominions. The education which he bestowed on his sons and
nephews secured to the empire a race of princes, whose faith was still more
lively and sincere, as they imbibed, in their earliest infancy, the spirit, or
at least the doctrine, of Christianity. War and commerce had spread the
knowledge of the gospel beyond the confines of the Roman provinces; and the
Barbarians, who had disdained as humble and proscribed sect, soon learned to
esteem a religion which had been so lately embraced by the greatest monarch,
and the most civilized nation, of the globe. 76 The Goths and Germans, who
enlisted under the standard of Rome, revered the cross which glittered at the
head of the legions, and their fierce countrymen received at the same time the
lessons of faith and of humanity. The kings of Iberia and Armenia76a
worshipped the god of their protector; and their subjects, who have invariably
preserved the name of Christians, soon formed a sacred and perpetual connection
with their Roman brethren. The Christians of Persia were suspected, in time of
war, of preferring their religion to their country; but as long as peace
subsisted between the two empires, the persecuting spirit of the Magi was
effectually restrained by the interposition of Constantine. 77 The
rays of the gospel illuminated the coast of India. The colonies of Jews, who
had penetrated into Arabia and Ethiopia, 78 opposed the progress of
Christianity; but the labor of the missionaries was in some measure facilitated
by a previous knowledge of the Mosaic revelation; and Abyssinia still reveres
the memory of Frumentius, 78a who, in the time of Constantine, devoted his
life to the conversion of those sequestered regions. Under the reign of his son
Constantius, Theophilus, 79 who was himself of Indian extraction, was invested
with the double character of ambassador and bishop. He embarked on the Red Sea
with two hundred horses of the purest breed of Cappadocia, which were sent by
the emperor to the prince of the Sabæans, or Homerites. Theophilus was
intrusted with many other useful or curious presents, which might raise the
admiration, and conciliate the friendship, of the Barbarians; and he
successfully employed several years in a pastoral visit to the churches of the
torrid zone. 80
The irresistible power of the Roman emperors was displayed in the important and
dangerous change of the national religion. The terrors of a military force
silenced the faint and unsupported murmurs of the Pagans, and there was reason
to expect, that the cheerful submission of the Christian clergy, as well as
people, would be the result of conscience and gratitude. It was long since
established, as a fundamental maxim of the Roman constitution, that every rank
of citizens was alike subject to the laws, and that the care of religion was
the right as well as duty of the civil magistrate. Constantine and his
successors could not easily persuade themselves that they had forfeited, by
their conversion, any branch of the Imperial prerogatives, or that they were
incapable of giving laws to a religion which they had protected and embraced.
The emperors still continued to exercise a supreme jurisdiction over the
ecclesiastical order, and the sixteenth book of the Theodosian code represents,
under a variety of titles, the authority which they assumed in the government
of the Catholic church. But the distinction of the spiritual and temporal
powers, 81 which had never been imposed on the free spirit of
Greece and Rome, was introduced and confirmed by the legal establishment of
Christianity. The office of supreme pontiff, which, from the time of Numa to
that of Augustus, had always been exercised by one of the most eminent of the
senators, was at length united to the Imperial dignity. The first magistrate of
the state, as often as he was prompted by superstition or policy, performed
with his own hands the sacerdotal functions; 82 nor was there any order of
priests, either at Rome or in the provinces, who claimed a more sacred
character among men, or a more intimate communication with the gods. But in the
Christian church, which instrusts the service of the altar to a perpetual
succession of consecrated ministers, the monarch, whose spiritual rank is less
honorable than that of the meanest deacon, was seated below the rails of the
sanctuary, and confounded with the rest of the faithful multitude. 83 The
emperor might be saluted as the father of his people, but he owed a filial duty
and reverence to the fathers of the church; and the same marks of respect,
which Constantine had paid to the persons of saints and confessors, were soon
exacted by the pride of the episcopal order. 84 A secret conflict between
the civil and ecclesiastical jurisdictions embarrassed the operation of the
Roman government; and a pious emperor was alarmed by the guilt and danger of
touching with a profane hand the ark of the covenant. The separation of men
into the two orders of the clergy and of the laity was, indeed, familiar to
many nations of antiquity; and the priests of India, of Persia, of Assyria, of
Judea, of Æthiopia, of Egypt, and of Gaul, derived from a celestial origin the
temporal power and possessions which they had acquired. These venerable
institutions had gradually assimilated themselves to the manners and government
of their respective countries; 85 but the opposition or contempt of the civil power
served to cement the discipline of the primitive church. The Christians had
been obliged to elect their own magistrates, to raise and distribute a peculiar
revenue, and to regulate the internal policy of their republic by a code of
laws, which were ratified by the consent of the people and the practice of
three hundred years. When Constantine embraced the faith of the Christians, he
seemed to contract a perpetual alliance with a distinct and independent
society; and the privileges granted or confirmed by that emperor, or by his
successors, were accepted, not as the precarious favors of the court, but as
the just and inalienable rights of the ecclesiastical order.
The Catholic church was administered by the spiritual and legal jurisdiction of
eighteen hundred bishops; 86 of whom one thousand were seated in the Greek, and
eight hundred in the Latin, provinces of the empire. The extent and boundaries
of their respective dioceses had been variously and accidentally decided by the
zeal and success of the first missionaries, by the wishes of the people, and by
the propagation of the gospel. Episcopal churches were closely planted along
the banks of the Nile, on the sea-coast of Africa, in the proconsular Asia, and
through the southern provinces of Italy. The bishops of Gaul and Spain, of
Thrace and Pontus, reigned over an ample territory, and delegated their rural
suffragans to execute the subordinate duties of the pastoral office. 87 A
Christian diocese might be spread over a province, or reduced to a village; but
all the bishops possessed an equal and indelible character: they all derived
the same powers and privileges from the apostles, from the people, and from the
laws. While the civil and military professions were separated by
the policy of Constantine, a new and perpetual order of ecclesiastical
ministers, always respectable, sometimes dangerous, was established in the
church and state. The important review of their station and attributes may be
distributed under the following heads: I. Popular Election. II. Ordination of
the Clergy. III. Property. IV. Civil Jurisdiction. V. Spiritual censures. VI.
Exercise of public oratory. VII. Privilege of legislative assemblies.
I. The freedom of election subsisted long after the legal establishment of
Christianity; 88 and the subjects of Rome enjoyed in the church the
privilege which they had lost in the republic, of choosing the magistrates whom
they were bound to obey. As soon as a bishop had closed his eyes, the
metropolitan issued a commission to one of his suffragans to administer the
vacant see, and prepare, within a limited time, the future election. The right
of voting was vested in the inferior clergy, who were best qualified to judge
of the merit of the candidates; in the senators or nobles of the city, all
those who were distinguished by their rank or property; and finally in the
whole body of the people, who, on the appointed day, flocked in multitudes from
the most remote parts of the diocese, 89 and sometimes silenced by
their tumultuous acclamations, the voice of reason and the laws of discipline.
These acclamations might accidentally fix on the head of the most deserving
competitor; of some ancient presbyter, some holy monk, or some layman,
conspicuous for his zeal and piety. But the episcopal chair was solicited,
especially in the great and opulent cities of the empire, as a temporal rather
than as a spiritual dignity. The interested views, the selfish and angry
passions, the arts of perfidy and dissimulation, the secret corruption, the
open and even bloody violence which had formerly disgraced the freedom of
election in the commonwealths of Greece and Rome, too often influenced the
choice of the successors of the apostles. While one of the candidates boasted
the honors of his family, a second allured his judges by the delicacies of a
plentiful table, and a third, more guilty than his rivals, offered to share the
plunder of the church among the accomplices of his sacrilegious hopes 90 The
civil as well as ecclesiastical laws attempted to exclude the populace from
this solemn and important transaction. The canons of ancient discipline, by
requiring several episcopal qualifications, of age, station, &c.,
restrained, in some measure, the indiscriminate caprice of the electors. The
authority of the provincial bishops, who were assembled in the vacant church to
consecrate the choice of the people, was interposed to moderate their passions
and to correct their mistakes. The bishops could refuse to ordain an unworthy
candidate, and the rage of contending factions sometimes accepted their
impartial mediation. The submission, or the resistance, of the clergy and
people, on various occasions, afforded different precedents, which were
insensibly converted into positive laws and provincial customs; 91 but
it was every where admitted, as a fundamental maxim of religious policy, that
no bishop could be imposed on an orthodox church, without the consent of its
members. The emperors, as the guardians of the public peace, and as the first
citizens of Rome and Constantinople, might effectually declare their wishes in
the choice of a primate; but those absolute monarchs respected the freedom of
ecclesiastical elections; and while they distributed and resumed the honors of
the state and army, they allowed eighteen hundred perpetual magistrates to
receive their important offices from the free suffrages of the people. 92 It
was agreeable to the dictates of justice, that these magistrates should not
desert an honorable station from which they could not be removed; but the
wisdom of councils endeavored, without much success, to enforce the residence,
and to prevent the translation, of bishops. The discipline of the West was
indeed less relaxed than that of the East; but the same passions which made
those regulations necessary, rendered them ineffectual. The reproaches which
angry prelates have so vehemently urged against each other, serve only to
expose their common guilt, and their mutual indiscretion.
II. The bishops alone possessed the faculty of spiritual generation: and
this extraordinary privilege might compensate, in some degree, for the painful
celibacy 93 which was imposed as a virtue, as a duty, and at
length as a positive obligation. The religions of antiquity, which established
a separate order of priests, dedicated a holy race, a tribe or family, to the
perpetual service of the gods. 94 Such institutions were founded for possession,
rather than conquest. The children of the priests enjoyed, with proud and
indolent security, their sacred inheritance; and the fiery spirit of enthusiasm
was abated by the cares, the pleasures, and the endearments of domestic life.
But the Christian sanctuary was open to every ambitious candidate, who aspired
to its heavenly promises or temporal possessions. This office of priests, like
that of soldiers or magistrates, was strenuously exercised by those men, whose
temper and abilities had prompted them to embrace the ecclesiastical
profession, or who had been selected by a discerning bishop, as the best
qualified to promote the glory and interest of the church. The bishops 95
(till the abuse was restrained by the prudence of the laws) might constrain the
reluctant, and protect the distressed; and the imposition of hands forever
bestowed some of the most valuable privileges of civil society. The whole body
of the Catholic clergy, more numerous perhaps than the legions, was exempted
[95a] by the emperors from all service, private or public, all municipal
offices, and all personal taxes and contributions, which pressed on their
fellow- citizens with intolerable weight; and the duties of their holy
profession were accepted as a full discharge of their obligations to the
republic. 96 Each bishop acquired an absolute and indefeasible
right to the perpetual obedience of the clerk whom he ordained: the clergy of
each episcopal church, with its dependent parishes, formed a regular and
permanent society; and the cathedrals of Constantinople 97 and
Carthage 98 maintained their peculiar establishment of five
hundred ecclesiastical ministers. Their ranks 99 and numbers were
insensibly multiplied by the superstition of the times, which introduced into
the church the splendid ceremonies of a Jewish or Pagan temple; and a long
train of priests, deacons, sub-deacons, acolythes, exorcists, readers, singers,
and doorkeepers, contributed, in their respective stations, to swell the pomp
and harmony of religious worship. The clerical name and privileges were
extended to many pious fraternities, who devoutly supported the ecclesiastical
throne. 100 Six hundred parabolani, or adventurers,
visited the sick at Alexandria; eleven hundred copiatæ, or
grave-diggers, buried the dead at Constantinople; and the swarms of monks, who
arose from the Nile, overspread and darkened the face of the Christian world.
Chapter XX: Conversion Of Constantine.—Part IV.
III. The edict of Milan secured the revenue as well as the peace of the church.
101 The Christians not only recovered the lands and
houses of which they had been stripped by the persecuting laws of Diocletian,
but they acquired a perfect title to all the possessions which they had
hitherto enjoyed by the connivance of the magistrate. As soon as Christianity
became the religion of the emperor and the empire, the national clergy might
claim a decent and honorable maintenance; and the payment of an annual tax
might have delivered the people from the more oppressive tribute, which
superstition imposes on her votaries. But as the wants and expenses of the
church increased with her prosperity, the ecclesiastical order was still
supported and enriched by the voluntary oblations of the faithful. Eight years
after the edict of Milan, Constantine granted to all his subjects the free and
universal permission of bequeathing their fortunes to the holy Catholic church;
102 and their devout liberality, which during their
lives was checked by luxury or avarice, flowed with a profuse stream at the
hour of their death. The wealthy Christians were encouraged by the example of
their sovereign. An absolute monarch, who is rich without patrimony, may be
charitable without merit; and Constantine too easily believed that he should
purchase the favor of Heaven, if he maintained the idle at the expense of the
industrious; and distributed among the saints the wealth of the republic. The
same messenger who carried over to Africa the head of Maxentius, might be
intrusted with an epistle to Cæcilian, bishop of Carthage. The emperor
acquaints him, that the treasurers of the province are directed to pay into his
hands the sum of three thousand folles, or eighteen thousand pounds
sterling, and to obey his further requisitions for the relief of the churches
of Africa, Numidia, and Mauritania. 103 The liberality of
Constantine increased in a just proportion to his faith, and to his vices. He
assigned in each city a regular allowance of corn, to supply the fund of
ecclesiastical charity; and the persons of both sexes who embraced the monastic
life became the peculiar favorites of their sovereign. The Christian temples of
Antioch, Alexandria, Jerusalem, Constantinople &c., displayed the
ostentatious piety of a prince, ambitious in a declining age to equal the
perfect labors of antiquity. 104 The form of these religious edifices was simple
and oblong; though they might sometimes swell into the shape of a dome, and
sometimes branch into the figure of a cross. The timbers were framed for the
most part of cedars of Libanus; the roof was covered with tiles, perhaps of
gilt brass; and the walls, the columns, the pavement, were encrusted with
variegated marbles. The most precious ornaments of gold and silver, of silk and
gems, were profusely dedicated to the service of the altar; and this specious
magnificence was supported on the solid and perpetual basis of landed property.
In the space of two centuries, from the reign of Constantine to that of
Justinian, the eighteen hundred churches of the empire were enriched by the
frequent and unalienable gifts of the prince and people. An annual income of
six hundred pounds sterling may be reasonably assigned to the bishops, who were
placed at an equal distance between riches and poverty, 105
but the standard of their wealth insensibly rose with the dignity and opulence
of the cities which they governed. An authentic but imperfect 106
rent-roll specifies some houses, shops, gardens, and farms, which belonged to
the three Basilicæ of Rome, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. John Lateran,
in the provinces of Italy, Africa, and the East. They produce, besides a
reserved rent of oil, linen, paper, aromatics, &c., a clear annual revenue
of twenty-two thousand pieces of gold, or twelve thousand pounds sterling. In
the age of Constantine and Justinian, the bishops no longer possessed, perhaps
they no longer deserved, the unsuspecting confidence of their clergy and
people. The ecclesiastical revenues of each diocese were divided into four
parts for the respective uses of the bishop himself, of his inferior clergy, of
the poor, and of the public worship; and the abuse of this sacred trust was
strictly and repeatedly checked. 107 The patrimony of the
church was still subject to all the public compositions of the state. 108
The clergy of Rome, Alexandria, Chessaionica, &c., might solicit and obtain
some partial exemptions; but the premature attempt of the great council of
Rimini, which aspired to universal freedom, was successfully resisted by the
son of Constantine. 109
IV. The Latin clergy, who erected their tribunal on the ruins of the civil and
common law, have modestly accepted, as the gift of Constantine, 110
the independent jurisdiction, which was the fruit of time, of accident, and of
their own industry. But the liberality of the Christian emperors had actually
endowed them with some legal prerogatives, which secured and dignified the
sacerdotal character. 111 1. Under a despotic government, the bishops
alone enjoyed and asserted the inestimable privilege of being tried only by
their peers, and even in a capital accusation, a synod of their brethren
were the sole judges of their guilt or innocence. Such a tribunal, unless it
was inflamed by personal resentment or religious discord, might be favorable,
or even partial, to the sacerdotal order: but Constantine was satisfied, 112
that secret impunity would be less pernicious than public scandal: and the
Nicene council was edited by his public declaration, that if he surprised a
bishop in the act of adultery, he should cast his Imperial mantle over the
episcopal sinner. 2. The domestic jurisdiction of the bishops was at once a
privilege and a restraint of the ecclesiastical order, whose civil causes were
decently withdrawn from the cognizance of a secular judge. Their venial
offences were not exposed to the shame of a public trial or punishment; and the
gentle correction which the tenderness of youth may endure from its parents or
instructors, was inflicted by the temperate severity of the bishops. But if the
clergy were guilty of any crime which could not be sufficiently expiated by
their degradation from an honorable and beneficial profession, the Roman
magistrate drew the sword of justice, without any regard to ecclesiastical
immunities. 3. The arbitration of the bishops was ratified by a positive law;
and the judges were instructed to execute, without appeal or delay, the
episcopal decrees, whose validity had hitherto depended on the consent of the
parties. The conversion of the magistrates themselves, and of the whole empire,
might gradually remove the fears and scruples of the Christians. But they still
resorted to the tribunal of the bishops, whose abilities and integrity they
esteemed; and the venerable Austin enjoyed the satisfaction of complaining that
his spiritual functions were perpetually interrupted by the invidious labor of
deciding the claim or the possession of silver and gold, of lands and cattle.
4. The ancient privilege of sanctuary was transferred to the Christian temples,
and extended, by the liberal piety of the younger Theodosius, to the precincts
of consecrated ground. 113 The fugitive, and even guilty suppliants,were
permitted to implore either the justice, or the mercy, of the Deity and his
ministers. The rash violence of despotism was suspended by the mild
interposition of the church; and the lives or fortunes of the most eminent
subjects might be protected by the mediation of the bishop.
V. The bishop was the perpetual censor of the morals of his people The
discipline of penance was digested into a system of canonical jurisprudence, 114
which accurately defined the duty of private or public confession, the rules of
evidence, the degrees of guilt, and the measure of punishment. It was
impossible to execute this spiritual censure, if the Christian pontiff, who
punished the obscure sins of the multitude, respected the conspicuous vices and
destructive crimes of the magistrate: but it was impossible to arraign the
conduct of the magistrate, without, controlling the administration of civil
government. Some considerations of religion, or loyalty, or fear, protected the
sacred persons of the emperors from the zeal or resentment of the bishops; but
they boldly censured and excommunicated the subordinate tyrants, who were not
invested with the majesty of the purple. St. Athanasius excommunicated one of
the ministers of Egypt; and the interdict which he pronounced, of fire and
water, was solemnly transmitted to the churches of Cappadocia. 115
Under the reign of the younger Theodosius, the polite and eloquent Synesius,
one of the descendants of Hercules, 116 filled the episcopal
seat of Ptolemais, near the ruins of ancient Cyrene, 117 and the philosophic
bishop supported with dignity the character which he had assumed with
reluctance. 118 He vanquished the monster of Libya, the
president Andronicus, who abused the authority of a venal office, invented new
modes of rapine and torture, and aggravated the guilt of oppression by that of
sacrilege. 119 After a fruitless attempt to reclaim the haughty
magistrate by mild and religious admonition, Synesius proceeds to inflict the
last sentence of ecclesiastical justice, 120 which devotes
Andronicus, with his associates and their families, to the abhorrence of
earth and heaven. The impenitent sinners, more cruel than Phalaris or
Sennacherib, more destructive than war, pestilence, or a cloud of locusts, are
deprived of the name and privileges of Christians, of the participation of the
sacraments, and of the hope of Paradise. The bishop exhorts the clergy, the
magistrates, and the people, to renounce all society with the enemies of
Christ; to exclude them from their houses and tables; and to refuse them the
common offices of life, and the decent rites of burial. The church of
Ptolemais, obscure and contemptible as she may appear, addresses this
declaration to all her sister churches of the world; and the profane who reject
her decrees, will be involved in the guilt and punishment of Andronicus and his
impious followers. These spiritual terrors were enforced by a dexterous
application to the Byzantine court; the trembling president implored the mercy
of the church; and the descendants of Hercules enjoyed the satisfaction of
raising a prostrate tyrant from the ground. 121 Such principles and
such examples insensibly prepared the triumph of the Roman pontiffs, who have
trampled on the necks of kings.
VI. Every popular government has experienced the effects of rude or artificial
eloquence. The coldest nature is animated, the firmest reason is moved, by the
rapid communication of the prevailing impulse; and each hearer is affected by
his own passions, and by those of the surrounding multitude. The ruin of civil
liberty had silenced the demagogues of Athens, and the tribunes of Rome; the
custom of preaching which seems to constitute a considerable part of Christian
devotion, had not been introduced into the temples of antiquity; and the ears
of monarchs were never invaded by the harsh sound of popular eloquence, till
the pulpits of the empire were filled with sacred orators, who possessed some
advantages unknown to their profane predecessors. 122 The arguments and
rhetoric of the tribune were instantly opposed with equal arms, by skilful and
resolute antagonists; and the cause of truth and reason might derive an
accidental support from the conflict of hostile passions. The bishop, or some
distinguished presbyter, to whom he cautiously delegated the powers of
preaching, harangued, without the danger of interruption or reply, a submissive
multitude, whose minds had been prepared and subdued by the awful ceremonies of
religion. Such was the strict subordination of the Catholic church, that the
same concerted sounds might issue at once from a hundred pulpits of Italy or
Egypt, if they were tuned 123 by the master hand of
the Roman or Alexandrian primate. The design of this institution was laudable,
but the fruits were not always salutary. The preachers recommended the practice
of the social duties; but they exalted the perfection of monastic virtue, which
is painful to the individual, and useless to mankind. Their charitable
exhortations betrayed a secret wish that the clergy might be permitted to
manage the wealth of the faithful, for the benefit of the poor. The most
sublime representations of the attributes and laws of the Deity were sullied by
an idle mixture of metaphysical subleties, puerile rites, and fictitious
miracles: and they expatiated, with the most fervent zeal, on the religious
merit of hating the adversaries, and obeying the ministers of the church. When
the public peace was distracted by heresy and schism, the sacred orators
sounded the trumpet of discord, and, perhaps, of sedition. The understandings
of their congregations were perplexed by mystery, their passions were inflamed
by invectives; and they rushed from the Christian temples of Antioch or
Alexandria, prepared either to suffer or to inflict martyrdom. The corruption
of taste and language is strongly marked in the vehement declamations of the
Latin bishops; but the compositions of Gregory and Chrysostom have been
compared with the most splendid models of Attic, or at least of Asiatic,
eloquence. 124
VII. The representatives of the Christian republic were regularly assembled in
the spring and autumn of each year; and these synods diffused the spirit of
ecclesiastical discipline and legislation through the hundred and twenty
provinces of the Roman world. 125 The archbishop or
metropolitan was empowered, by the laws, to summon the suffragan bishops of his
province; to revise their conduct, to vindicate their rights, to declare their
faith, and to examine the merits of the candidates who were elected by the
clergy and people to supply the vacancies of the episcopal college. The
primates of Rome, Alexandria, Antioch, Carthage, and afterwards Constantinople,
who exercised a more ample jurisdiction, convened the numerous assembly of
their dependent bishops. But the convocation of great and extraordinary synods
was the prerogative of the emperor alone. Whenever the emergencies of the
church required this decisive measure, he despatched a peremptory summons to
the bishops, or the deputies of each province, with an order for the use of
post-horses, and a competent allowance for the expenses of their journey. At an
early period, when Constantine was the protector, rather than the proselyte, of
Christianity, he referred the African controversy to the council of Arles; in
which the bishops of York of Trèves, of Milan, and of Carthage, met as friends
and brethren, to debate in their native tongue on the common interest of the
Latin or Western church. 126 Eleven years afterwards, a more numerous and
celebrated assembly was convened at Nice in Bithynia, to extinguish, by their
final sentence, the subtle disputes which had arisen in Egypt on the subject of
the Trinity. Three hundred and eighteen bishops obeyed the summons of their
indulgent master; the ecclesiastics of every rank, and sect, and denomination,
have been computed at two thousand and forty-eight persons; 127
the Greeks appeared in person; and the consent of the Latins was expressed by
the legates of the Roman pontiff. The session, which lasted about two months,
was frequently honored by the presence of the emperor. Leaving his guards at
the door, he seated himself (with the permission of the council) on a low stool
in the midst of the hall. Constantine listened with patience, and spoke with
modesty: and while he influenced the debates, he humbly professed that he was
the minister, not the judge, of the successors of the apostles, who had been
established as priests and as gods upon earth. 128 Such profound reverence
of an absolute monarch towards a feeble and unarmed assembly of his own
subjects, can only be compared to the respect with which the senate had been
treated by the Roman princes who adopted the policy of Augustus. Within the
space of fifty years, a philosophic spectator of the vicissitudes of human
affairs might have contemplated Tacitus in the senate of Rome, and Constantine
in the council of Nice. The fathers of the Capitol and those of the church had
alike degenerated from the virtues of their founders; but as the bishops were
more deeply rooted in the public opinion, they sustained their dignity with
more decent pride, and sometimes opposed with a manly spirit the wishes of
their sovereign. The progress of time and superstition erased the memory of the
weakness, the passion, the ignorance, which disgraced these ecclesiastical
synods; and the Catholic world has unanimously submitted 129
to the infallible decrees of the general councils. 130
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part I.
Persecution Of Heresy.—The Schism Of The Donatists.—The
Arian Controversy.—Athanasius.—Distracted State Of The
Church And Empire Under Constantine And His Sons.—
Toleration Of Paganism.
The grateful applause of the clergy has consecrated the memory of a prince
who indulged their passions and promoted their interest. Constantine gave
them security, wealth, honors, and revenge; and the support of the
orthodox faith was considered as the most sacred and important duty of the
civil magistrate. The edict of Milan, the great charter of toleration, had
confirmed to each individual of the Roman world the privilege of choosing
and professing his own religion. But this inestimable privilege was soon
violated; with the knowledge of truth, the emperor imbibed the maxims of
persecution; and the sects which dissented from the Catholic church were
afflicted and oppressed by the triumph of Christianity. Constantine easily
believed that the Heretics, who presumed to dispute his opinions, or to
oppose his commands, were guilty of the most absurd and criminal
obstinacy; and that a seasonable application of moderate severities might
save those unhappy men from the danger of an everlasting condemnation. Not
a moment was lost in excluding the ministers and teachers of the separated
congregations from any share of the rewards and immunities which the
emperor had so liberally bestowed on the orthodox clergy. But as the
sectaries might still exist under the cloud of royal disgrace, the
conquest of the East was immediately followed by an edict which announced
their total destruction. 1 After a preamble filled with passion and
reproach, Constantine absolutely prohibits the assemblies of the Heretics,
and confiscates their public property to the use either of the revenue or
of the Catholic church. The sects against whom the Imperial severity was
directed, appear to have been the adherents of Paul of Samosata; the
Montanists of Phrygia, who maintained an enthusiastic succession of
prophecy; the Novatians, who sternly rejected the temporal efficacy of
repentance; the Marcionites and Valentinians, under whose leading banners
the various Gnostics of Asia and Egypt had insensibly rallied; and perhaps
the Manichæans, who had recently imported from Persia a more artful
composition of Oriental and Christian theology. 2 The design of
extirpating the name, or at least of restraining the progress, of these
odious Heretics, was prosecuted with vigor and effect. Some of the penal
regulations were copied from the edicts of Diocletian; and this method of
conversion was applauded by the same bishops who had felt the hand of
oppression, and pleaded for the rights of humanity. Two immaterial
circumstances may serve, however, to prove that the mind of Constantine
was not entirely corrupted by the spirit of zeal and bigotry. Before he
condemned the Manichæans and their kindred sects, he resolved to make an
accurate inquiry into the nature of their religious principles. As if he
distrusted the impartiality of his ecclesiastical counsellors, this
delicate commission was intrusted to a civil magistrate, whose learning
and moderation he justly esteemed, and of whose venal character he was
probably ignorant. 3 The emperor was soon convinced, that he had too
hastily proscribed the orthodox faith and the exemplary morals of the
Novatians, who had dissented from the church in some articles of
discipline which were not perhaps essential to salvation. By a particular
edict, he exempted them from the general penalties of the law; 4
allowed them to build a church at Constantinople, respected the miracles
of their saints, invited their bishop Acesius to the council of Nice; and
gently ridiculed the narrow tenets of his sect by a familiar jest; which,
from the mouth of a sovereign, must have been received with applause and
gratitude. 5
The complaints and mutual accusations which assailed the throne of
Constantine, as soon as the death of Maxentius had submitted Africa to his
victorious arms, were ill adapted to edify an imperfect proselyte. He
learned, with surprise, that the provinces of that great country, from the
confines of Cyrene to the columns of Hercules, were distracted with
religious discord. 6 The source of the division was derived from a
double election in the church of Carthage; the second, in rank and
opulence, of the ecclesiastical thrones of the West. Cæcilian and
Majorinus were the two rival prelates of Africa; and the death of the
latter soon made room for Donatus, who, by his superior abilities and
apparent virtues, was the firmest support of his party. The advantage
which Cæcilian might claim from the priority of his ordination, was
destroyed by the illegal, or at least indecent, haste, with which it had
been performed, without expecting the arrival of the bishops of Numidia.
The authority of these bishops, who, to the number of seventy, condemned
Cæcilian, and consecrated Majorinus, is again weakened by the infamy of
some of their personal characters; and by the female intrigues,
sacrilegious bargains, and tumultuous proceedings, which are imputed to
this Numidian council. 7 The bishops of the contending factions
maintained, with equal ardor and obstinacy, that their adversaries were
degraded, or at least dishonored, by the odious crime of delivering the
Holy Scriptures to the officers of Diocletian. From their mutual
reproaches, as well as from the story of this dark transaction, it may
justly be inferred, that the late persecution had imbittered the zeal,
without reforming the manners, of the African Christians. That divided
church was incapable of affording an impartial judicature; the controversy
was solemnly tried in five successive tribunals, which were appointed by
the emperor; and the whole proceeding, from the first appeal to the final
sentence, lasted above three years. A severe inquisition, which was taken
by the Prætorian vicar, and the proconsul of Africa, the report of two
episcopal visitors who had been sent to Carthage, the decrees of the
councils of Rome and of Arles, and the supreme judgment of Constantine
himself in his sacred consistory, were all favorable to the cause of
Cæcilian; and he was unanimously acknowledged by the civil and
ecclesiastical powers, as the true and lawful primate of Africa. The
honors and estates of the church were attributed to his suffragan bishops,
and it was not without difficulty, that Constantine was satisfied with
inflicting the punishment of exile on the principal leaders of the
Donatist faction. As their cause was examined with attention, perhaps it
was determined with justice. Perhaps their complaint was not without
foundation, that the credulity of the emperor had been abused by the
insidious arts of his favorite Osius. The influence of falsehood and
corruption might procure the condemnation of the innocent, or aggravate
the sentence of the guilty. Such an act, however, of injustice, if it
concluded an importunate dispute, might be numbered among the transient
evils of a despotic administration, which are neither felt nor remembered
by posterity.
But this incident, so inconsiderable that it scarcely deserves a place in
history, was productive of a memorable schism which afflicted the
provinces of Africa above three hundred years, and was extinguished only
with Christianity itself. The inflexible zeal of freedom and fanaticism
animated the Donatists to refuse obedience to the usurpers, whose election
they disputed, and whose spiritual powers they denied. Excluded from the
civil and religious communion of mankind, they boldly excommunicated the
rest of mankind, who had embraced the impious party of Cæcilian, and of
the Traditors, from which he derived his pretended ordination. They
asserted with confidence, and almost with exultation, that the Apostolical
succession was interrupted; that all the bishops of Europe and Asia were
infected by the contagion of guilt and schism; and that the prerogatives
of the Catholic church were confined to the chosen portion of the African
believers, who alone had preserved inviolate the integrity of their faith
and discipline. This rigid theory was supported by the most uncharitable
conduct. Whenever they acquired a proselyte, even from the distant
provinces of the East, they carefully repeated the sacred rites of baptism
8
and ordination; as they rejected the validity of those which he had
already received from the hands of heretics or schismatics. Bishops,
virgins, and even spotless infants, were subjected to the disgrace of a
public penance, before they could be admitted to the communion of the
Donatists. If they obtained possession of a church which had been used by
their Catholic adversaries, they purified the unhallowed building with the
same zealous care which a temple of idols might have required. They washed
the pavement, scraped the walls, burnt the altar, which was commonly of
wood, melted the consecrated plate, and cast the Holy Eucharist to the
dogs, with every circumstance of ignominy which could provoke and
perpetuate the animosity of religious factions. 9 Notwithstanding this
irreconcilable aversion, the two parties, who were mixed and separated in
all the cities of Africa, had the same language and manners, the same zeal
and learning, the same faith and worship. Proscribed by the civil and
ecclesiastical powers of the empire, the Donatists still maintained in
some provinces, particularly in Numidia, their superior numbers; and four
hundred bishops acknowledged the jurisdiction of their primate. But the
invincible spirit of the sect sometimes preyed on its own vitals: and the
bosom of their schismatical church was torn by intestine divisions. A
fourth part of the Donatist bishops followed the independent standard of
the Maximianists. The narrow and solitary path which their first leaders
had marked out, continued to deviate from the great society of mankind.
Even the imperceptible sect of the Rogatians could affirm, without a
blush, that when Christ should descend to judge the earth, he would find
his true religion preserved only in a few nameless villages of the
Cæsarean Mauritania. 10
The schism of the Donatists was confined to Africa: the more diffusive
mischief of the Trinitarian controversy successively penetrated into every
part of the Christian world. The former was an accidental quarrel,
occasioned by the abuse of freedom; the latter was a high and mysterious
argument, derived from the abuse of philosophy. From the age of
Constantine to that of Clovis and Theodoric, the temporal interests both
of the Romans and Barbarians were deeply involved in the theological
disputes of Arianism. The historian may therefore be permitted
respectfully to withdraw the veil of the sanctuary; and to deduce the
progress of reason and faith, of error and passion from the school of
Plato, to the decline and fall of the empire.
The genius of Plato, informed by his own meditation, or by the traditional
knowledge of the priests of Egypt, 11 had ventured to
explore the mysterious nature of the Deity. When he had elevated his mind
to the sublime contemplation of the first self-existent, necessary cause
of the universe, the Athenian sage was incapable of conceiving how the
simple unity of his essence could admit the infinite variety of distinct
and successive ideas which compose the model of the intellectual world;
how a Being purely incorporeal could execute that perfect model, and mould
with a plastic hand the rude and independent chaos. The vain hope of
extricating himself from these difficulties, which must ever oppress the
feeble powers of the human mind, might induce Plato to consider the divine
nature under the threefold modification—of the first cause, the
reason, or Logos, and the soul or spirit of the universe. His poetical
imagination sometimes fixed and animated these metaphysical abstractions;
the three archical on original principles were represented in the Platonic
system as three Gods, united with each other by a mysterious and ineffable
generation; and the Logos was particularly considered under the more
accessible character of the Son of an Eternal Father, and the Creator and
Governor of the world. Such appear to have been the secret doctrines which
were cautiously whispered in the gardens of the academy; and which,
according to the more recent disciples of Plato, 1111 could not be
perfectly understood, till after an assiduous study of thirty years. 12
The arms of the Macedonians diffused over Asia and Egypt the language and
learning of Greece; and the theological system of Plato was taught, with
less reserve, and perhaps with some improvements, in the celebrated school
of Alexandria. 13 A numerous colony of Jews had been invited,
by the favor of the Ptolemies, to settle in their new capital. 14
While the bulk of the nation practised the legal ceremonies, and pursued
the lucrative occupations of commerce, a few Hebrews, of a more liberal
spirit, devoted their lives to religious and philosophical contemplation.
15
They cultivated with diligence, and embraced with ardor, the theological
system of the Athenian sage. But their national pride would have been
mortified by a fair confession of their former poverty: and they boldly
marked, as the sacred inheritance of their ancestors, the gold and jewels
which they had so lately stolen from their Egyptian masters. One hundred
years before the birth of Christ, a philosophical treatise, which
manifestly betrays the style and sentiments of the school of Plato, was
produced by the Alexandrian Jews, and unanimously received as a genuine
and valuable relic of the inspired Wisdom of Solomon. 16
A similar union of the Mosaic faith and the Grecian philosophy,
distinguishes the works of Philo, which were composed, for the most part,
under the reign of Augustus. 17 The material soul of
the universe 18 might offend the piety of the Hebrews: but
they applied the character of the Logos to the Jehovah of Moses and the
patriarchs; and the Son of God was introduced upon earth under a visible,
and even human appearance, to perform those familiar offices which seem
incompatible with the nature and attributes of the Universal Cause. 19
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part II.
The eloquence of Plato, the name of Solomon, the authority of the school
of Alexandria, and the consent of the Jews and Greeks, were insufficient
to establish the truth of a mysterious doctrine, which might please, but
could not satisfy, a rational mind. A prophet, or apostle, inspired by the
Deity, can alone exercise a lawful dominion over the faith of mankind: and
the theology of Plato might have been forever confounded with the
philosophical visions of the Academy, the Porch, and the Lycæum, if the
name and divine attributes of the Logos had not been confirmed by the
celestial pen of the last and most sublime of the Evangelists. 20
The Christian Revelation, which was consummated under the reign of Nerva,
disclosed to the world the amazing secret, that the Logos, who was with
God from the beginning, and was God, who had made all things, and for whom
all things had been made, was incarnate in the person of Jesus of
Nazareth; who had been born of a virgin, and suffered death on the cross.
Besides the general design of fixing on a perpetual basis the divine honors
of Christ, the most ancient and respectable of the ecclesiastical writers
have ascribed to the evangelic theologian a particular intention to
confute two opposite heresies, which disturbed the peace of the primitive
church. 21 I. The faith of the Ebionites, 22
perhaps of the Nazarenes, 23 was gross and imperfect. They revered Jesus
as the greatest of the prophets, endowed with supernatural virtue and
power. They ascribed to his person and to his future reign all the
predictions of the Hebrew oracles which relate to the spiritual and
everlasting kingdom of the promised Messiah. 24 Some of them might
confess that he was born of a virgin; but they obstinately rejected the
preceding existence and divine perfections of the Logos, or Son of God,
which are so clearly defined in the Gospel of St. John. About fifty years
afterwards, the Ebionites, whose errors are mentioned by Justin Martyr
with less severity than they seem to deserve, 25 formed a very
inconsiderable portion of the Christian name. II. The Gnostics, who were
distinguished by the epithet of Docetes, deviated into the contrary
extreme; and betrayed the human, while they asserted the divine, nature of
Christ. Educated in the school of Plato, accustomed to the sublime idea of
the Logos, they readily conceived that the brightest Æon, or Emanation of
the Deity, might assume the outward shape and visible appearances of a
mortal; 26 but they vainly pretended, that the
imperfections of matter are incompatible with the purity of a celestial
substance.
While the blood of Christ yet smoked on Mount Calvary, the Docetes
invented the impious and extravagant hypothesis, that, instead of issuing
from the womb of the Virgin, 27 he had descended on
the banks of the Jordan in the form of perfect manhood; that he had
imposed on the senses of his enemies, and of his disciples; and that the
ministers of Pilate had wasted their impotent rage on an ury phantom, who
seemed to expire on the cross, and, after three days, to rise from the
dead. 28
The divine sanction, which the Apostle had bestowed on the fundamental
principle of the theology of Plato, encouraged the learned proselytes of
the second and third centuries to admire and study the writings of the
Athenian sage, who had thus marvellously anticipated one of the most
surprising discoveries of the Christian revelation. The respectable name
of Plato was used by the orthodox, 29 and abused by the
heretics, 30 as the common support of truth and error: the
authority of his skilful commentators, and the science of dialectics, were
employed to justify the remote consequences of his opinions and to supply
the discreet silence of the inspired writers. The same subtle and profound
questions concerning the nature, the generation, the distinction, and the
equality of the three divine persons of the mysterious Triad, or Trinity,
31
were agitated in the philosophical and in the Christian schools of
Alexandria. An eager spirit of curiosity urged them to explore the secrets
of the abyss; and the pride of the professors, and of their disciples, was
satisfied with the sciences of words. But the most sagacious of the
Christian theologians, the great Athanasius himself, has candidly
confessed, 32 that whenever he forced his understanding to
meditate on the divinity of the Logos, his toilsome and unavailing efforts
recoiled on themselves; that the more he thought, the less he
comprehended; and the more he wrote, the less capable was he of expressing
his thoughts. In every step of the inquiry, we are compelled to feel and
acknowledge the immeasurable disproportion between the size of the object
and the capacity of the human mind. We may strive to abstract the notions
of time, of space, and of matter, which so closely adhere to all the
perceptions of our experimental knowledge. But as soon as we presume to
reason of infinite substance, of spiritual generation; as often as we
deduce any positive conclusions from a negative idea, we are involved in
darkness, perplexity, and inevitable contradiction. As these difficulties
arise from the nature of the subject, they oppress, with the same
insuperable weight, the philosophic and the theological disputant; but we
may observe two essential and peculiar circumstances, which discriminated
the doctrines of the Catholic church from the opinions of the Platonic
school.
I. A chosen society of philosophers, men of a liberal education and
curious disposition, might silently meditate, and temperately discuss in
the gardens of Athens or the library of Alexandria, the abstruse questions
of metaphysical science. The lofty speculations, which neither convinced
the understanding, nor agitated the passions, of the Platonists
themselves, were carelessly overlooked by the idle, the busy, and even the
studious part of mankind. 33 But after the Logos had been revealed as the
sacred object of the faith, the hope, and the religious worship of the
Christians, the mysterious system was embraced by a numerous and
increasing multitude in every province of the Roman world. Those persons
who, from their age, or sex, or occupations, were the least qualified to
judge, who were the least exercised in the habits of abstract reasoning,
aspired to contemplate the economy of the Divine Nature: and it is the
boast of Tertullian, 34 that a Christian mechanic could readily
answer such questions as had perplexed the wisest of the Grecian sages.
Where the subject lies so far beyond our reach, the difference between the
highest and the lowest of human understandings may indeed be calculated as
infinitely small; yet the degree of weakness may perhaps be measured by
the degree of obstinacy and dogmatic confidence. These speculations,
instead of being treated as the amusement of a vacant hour, became the
most serious business of the present, and the most useful preparation for
a future, life. A theology, which it was incumbent to believe, which it
was impious to doubt, and which it might be dangerous, and even fatal, to
mistake, became the familiar topic of private meditation and popular
discourse. The cold indifference of philosophy was inflamed by the fervent
spirit of devotion; and even the metaphors of common language suggested
the fallacious prejudices of sense and experience. The Christians, who
abhorred the gross and impure generation of the Greek mythology, 35
were tempted to argue from the familiar analogy of the filial and paternal
relations. The character of Son seemed to imply a perpetual subordination
to the voluntary author of his existence; 36 but as the act of
generation, in the most spiritual and abstracted sense, must be supposed
to transmit the properties of a common nature, 37 they durst not
presume to circumscribe the powers or the duration of the Son of an
eternal and omnipotent Father. Fourscore years after the death of Christ,
the Christians of Bithynia, declared before the tribunal of Pliny, that
they invoked him as a god: and his divine honors have been perpetuated in
every age and country, by the various sects who assume the name of his
disciples. 38 Their tender reverence for the memory of
Christ, and their horror for the profane worship of any created being,
would have engaged them to assert the equal and absolute divinity of the
Logos, if their rapid ascent towards the throne of heaven had not been
imperceptibly checked by the apprehension of violating the unity and sole
supremacy of the great Father of Christ and of the Universe. The suspense
and fluctuation produced in the minds of the Christians by these opposite
tendencies, may be observed in the writings of the theologians who
flourished after the end of the apostolic age, and before the origin of
the Arian controversy. Their suffrage is claimed, with equal confidence,
by the orthodox and by the heretical parties; and the most inquisitive
critics have fairly allowed, that if they had the good fortune of
possessing the Catholic verity, they have delivered their conceptions in
loose, inaccurate, and sometimes contradictory language. 39
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part III.
II. The devotion of individuals was the first circumstance which
distinguished the Christians from the Platonists: the second was the
authority of the church. The disciples of philosophy asserted the rights
of intellectual freedom, and their respect for the sentiments of their
teachers was a liberal and voluntary tribute, which they offered to
superior reason. But the Christians formed a numerous and disciplined
society; and the jurisdiction of their laws and magistrates was strictly
exercised over the minds of the faithful. The loose wanderings of the
imagination were gradually confined by creeds and confessions; 40
the freedom of private judgment submitted to the public wisdom of synods;
the authority of a theologian was determined by his ecclesiastical rank;
and the episcopal successors of the apostles inflicted the censures of the
church on those who deviated from the orthodox belief. But in an age of
religious controversy, every act of oppression adds new force to the
elastic vigor of the mind; and the zeal or obstinacy of a spiritual rebel
was sometimes stimulated by secret motives of ambition or avarice. A
metaphysical argument became the cause or pretence of political contests;
the subtleties of the Platonic school were used as the badges of popular
factions, and the distance which separated their respective tenets were
enlarged or magnified by the acrimony of dispute. As long as the dark
heresies of Praxeas and Sabellius labored to confound the Father with the
Son, 41
the orthodox party might be excused if they adhered more strictly and more
earnestly to the distinction, than to the equality, of the divine persons.
But as soon as the heat of controversy had subsided, and the progress of
the Sabellians was no longer an object of terror to the churches of Rome,
of Africa, or of Egypt, the tide of theological opinion began to flow with
a gentle but steady motion towards the contrary extreme; and the most
orthodox doctors allowed themselves the use of the terms and definitions
which had been censured in the mouth of the sectaries. 42
After the edict of toleration had restored peace and leisure to the
Christians, the Trinitarian controversy was revived in the ancient seat of
Platonism, the learned, the opulent, the tumultuous city of Alexandria;
and the flame of religious discord was rapidly communicated from the
schools to the clergy, the people, the province, and the East. The
abstruse question of the eternity of the Logos was agitated in
ecclesiastic conferences and popular sermons; and the heterodox opinions
of Arius 43 were soon made public by his own zeal, and by
that of his adversaries. His most implacable adversaries have acknowledged
the learning and blameless life of that eminent presbyter, who, in a
former election, had declared, and perhaps generously declined, his
pretensions to the episcopal throne. 44 His competitor
Alexander assumed the office of his judge. The important cause was argued
before him; and if at first he seemed to hesitate, he at length pronounced
his final sentence, as an absolute rule of faith. 45 The undaunted
presbyter, who presumed to resist the authority of his angry bishop, was
separated from the community of the church. But the pride of Arius was
supported by the applause of a numerous party. He reckoned among his
immediate followers two bishops of Egypt, seven presbyters, twelve
deacons, and (what may appear almost incredible) seven hundred virgins. A
large majority of the bishops of Asia appeared to support or favor his
cause; and their measures were conducted by Eusebius of Cæsarea, the most
learned of the Christian prelates; and by Eusebius of Nicomedia, who had
acquired the reputation of a statesman without forfeiting that of a saint.
Synods in Palestine and Bithynia were opposed to the synods of Egypt. The
attention of the prince and people was attracted by this theological
dispute; and the decision, at the end of six years, 46
was referred to the supreme authority of the general council of Nice.
When the mysteries of the Christian faith were dangerously exposed to
public debate, it might be observed, that the human understanding was
capable of forming three district, though imperfect systems, concerning
the nature of the Divine Trinity; and it was pronounced, that none of
these systems, in a pure and absolute sense, were exempt from heresy and
error. 47 I. According to the first hypothesis, which
was maintained by Arius and his disciples, the Logos was a dependent and
spontaneous production, created from nothing by the will of the father.
The Son, by whom all things were made, 48 had been begotten
before all worlds, and the longest of the astronomical periods could be
compared only as a fleeting moment to the extent of his duration; yet this
duration was not infinite, 49 and there had been a time which preceded the
ineffable generation of the Logos. On this only-begotten Son, the Almighty
Father had transfused his ample spirit, and impressed the effulgence of
his glory. Visible image of invisible perfection, he saw, at an
immeasurable distance beneath his feet, the thrones of the brightest
archangels; yet he shone only with a reflected light, and, like the sons
of the Romans emperors, who were invested with the titles of Cæsar or
Augustus, 50 he governed the universe in obedience to the
will of his Father and Monarch. II. In the second hypothesis, the Logos
possessed all the inherent, incommunicable perfections, which religion and
philosophy appropriate to the Supreme God. Three distinct and infinite
minds or substances, three coëqual and coëternal beings, composed the
Divine Essence; 51 and it would have implied contradiction, that
any of them should not have existed, or that they should ever cease to
exist. 52 The advocates of a system which seemed to
establish three independent Deities, attempted to preserve the unity of
the First Cause, so conspicuous in the design and order of the world, by
the perpetual concord of their administration, and the essential agreement
of their will. A faint resemblance of this unity of action may be
discovered in the societies of men, and even of animals. The causes which
disturb their harmony, proceed only from the imperfection and inequality
of their faculties; but the omnipotence which is guided by infinite wisdom
and goodness, cannot fail of choosing the same means for the
accomplishment of the same ends. III. Three beings, who, by the
self-derived necessity of their existence, possess all the divine
attributes in the most perfect degree; who are eternal in duration,
infinite in space, and intimately present to each other, and to the whole
universe; irresistibly force themselves on the astonished mind, as one and
the same being, 53 who, in the economy of grace, as well as in
that of nature, may manifest himself under different forms, and be
considered under different aspects. By this hypothesis, a real substantial
trinity is refined into a trinity of names, and abstract modifications,
that subsist only in the mind which conceives them. The Logos is no longer
a person, but an attribute; and it is only in a figurative sense that the
epithet of Son can be applied to the eternal reason, which was with God
from the beginning, and by which, not by whom, all things were made. The
incarnation of the Logos is reduced to a mere inspiration of the Divine
Wisdom, which filled the soul, and directed all the actions, of the man
Jesus. Thus, after revolving around the theological circle, we are
surprised to find that the Sabellian ends where the Ebionite had begun;
and that the incomprehensible mystery which excites our adoration, eludes
our inquiry. 54
If the bishops of the council of Nice 55 had been permitted to
follow the unbiased dictates of their conscience, Arius and his associates
could scarcely have flattered themselves with the hopes of obtaining a
majority of votes, in favor of an hypothesis so directly averse to the two
most popular opinions of the Catholic world. The Arians soon perceived the
danger of their situation, and prudently assumed those modest virtues,
which, in the fury of civil and religious dissensions, are seldom
practised, or even praised, except by the weaker party. They recommended
the exercise of Christian charity and moderation; urged the
incomprehensible nature of the controversy, disclaimed the use of any
terms or definitions which could not be found in the Scriptures; and
offered, by very liberal concessions, to satisfy their adversaries without
renouncing the integrity of their own principles. The victorious faction
received all their proposals with haughty suspicion; and anxiously sought
for some irreconcilable mark of distinction, the rejection of which might
involve the Arians in the guilt and consequences of heresy. A letter was
publicly read, and ignominiously torn, in which their patron, Eusebius of
Nicomedia, ingenuously confessed, that the admission of the Homoousion, or
Consubstantial, a word already familiar to the Platonists, was
incompatible with the principles of their theological system. The
fortunate opportunity was eagerly embraced by the bishops, who governed
the resolutions of the synod; and, according to the lively expression of
Ambrose, 56 they used the sword, which heresy itself had
drawn from the scabbard, to cut off the head of the hated monster. The
consubstantiality of the Father and the Son was established by the council
of Nice, and has been unanimously received as a fundamental article of the
Christian faith, by the consent of the Greek, the Latin, the Oriental, and
the Protestant churches. But if the same word had not served to stigmatize
the heretics, and to unite the Catholics, it would have been inadequate to
the purpose of the majority, by whom it was introduced into the orthodox
creed. This majority was divided into two parties, distinguished by a
contrary tendency to the sentiments of the Tritheists and of the
Sabellians. But as those opposite extremes seemed to overthrow the
foundations either of natural or revealed religion, they mutually agreed
to qualify the rigor of their principles; and to disavow the just, but
invidious, consequences, which might be urged by their antagonists. The
interest of the common cause inclined them to join their numbers, and to
conceal their differences; their animosity was softened by the healing
counsels of toleration, and their disputes were suspended by the use of
the mysterious Homoousion, which either party was free to interpret
according to their peculiar tenets. The Sabellian sense, which, about
fifty years before, had obliged the council of Antioch 57
to prohibit this celebrated term, had endeared it to those theologians who
entertained a secret but partial affection for a nominal Trinity. But the
more fashionable saints of the Arian times, the intrepid Athanasius, the
learned Gregory Nazianzen, and the other pillars of the church, who
supported with ability and success the Nicene doctrine, appeared to
consider the expression of substance as if it had been synonymous with
that of nature; and they ventured to illustrate their meaning, by
affirming that three men, as they belong to the same common species, are
consubstantial, or homoousian to each other. 58 This pure and
distinct equality was tempered, on the one hand, by the internal
connection, and spiritual penetration which indissolubly unites the divine
persons; 59 and, on the other, by the preëminence of the
Father, which was acknowledged as far as it is compatible with the
independence of the Son. 60 Within these limits, the almost invisible and
tremulous ball of orthodoxy was allowed securely to vibrate. On either
side, beyond this consecrated ground, the heretics and the dæmons lurked
in ambush to surprise and devour the unhappy wanderer. But as the degrees
of theological hatred depend on the spirit of the war, rather than on the
importance of the controversy, the heretics who degraded, were treated
with more severity than those who annihilated, the person of the Son. The
life of Athanasius was consumed in irreconcilable opposition to the
impious madness of the Arians; 61 but he defended above
twenty years the Sabellianism of Marcellus of Ancyra; and when at last he
was compelled to withdraw himself from his communion, he continued to
mention, with an ambiguous smile, the venial errors of his respectable
friend. 62
The authority of a general council, to which the Arians themselves had
been compelled to submit, inscribed on the banners of the orthodox party
the mysterious characters of the word Homoousion, which essentially
contributed, notwithstanding some obscure disputes, some nocturnal
combats, to maintain and perpetuate the uniformity of faith, or at least
of language. The consubstantialists, who by their success have deserved
and obtained the title of Catholics, gloried in the simplicity and
steadiness of their own creed, and insulted the repeated variations of
their adversaries, who were destitute of any certain rule of faith. The
sincerity or the cunning of the Arian chiefs, the fear of the laws or of
the people, their reverence for Christ, their hatred of Athanasius, all
the causes, human and divine, that influence and disturb the counsels of a
theological faction, introduced among the sectaries a spirit of discord
and inconstancy, which, in the course of a few years, erected eighteen
different models of religion, 63 and avenged the
violated dignity of the church. The zealous Hilary, 64
who, from the peculiar hardships of his situation, was inclined to
extenuate rather than to aggravate the errors of the Oriental clergy,
declares, that in the wide extent of the ten provinces of Asia, to which
he had been banished, there could be found very few prelates who had
preserved the knowledge of the true God. 65 The oppression which
he had felt, the disorders of which he was the spectator and the victim,
appeased, during a short interval, the angry passions of his soul; and in
the following passage, of which I shall transcribe a few lines, the bishop
of Poitiers unwarily deviates into the style of a Christian philosopher.
“It is a thing,” says Hilary, “equally deplorable and dangerous, that
there are as many creeds as opinions among men, as many doctrines as
inclinations, and as many sources of blasphemy as there are faults among
us; because we make creeds arbitrarily, and explain them as arbitrarily.
The Homoousion is rejected, and received, and explained away by successive
synods. The partial or total resemblance of the Father and of the Son is a
subject of dispute for these unhappy times. Every year, nay, every moon,
we make new creeds to describe invisible mysteries. We repent of what we
have done, we defend those who repent, we anathematize those whom we
defended. We condemn either the doctrine of others in ourselves, or our
own in that of others; and reciprocally tearing one another to pieces, we
have been the cause of each other’s ruin.” 66
It will not be expected, it would not perhaps be endured, that I should
swell this theological digression, by a minute examination of the eighteen
creeds, the authors of which, for the most part, disclaimed the odious
name of their parent Arius. It is amusing enough to delineate the form,
and to trace the vegetation, of a singular plant; but the tedious detail
of leaves without flowers, and of branches without fruit, would soon
exhaust the patience, and disappoint the curiosity, of the laborious
student. One question, which gradually arose from the Arian controversy,
may, however, be noticed, as it served to produce and discriminate the
three sects, who were united only by their common aversion to the
Homoousion of the Nicene synod. 1. If they were asked whether the Son was
like unto the Father, the question was resolutely answered in the
negative, by the heretics who adhered to the principles of Arius, or
indeed to those of philosophy; which seem to establish an infinite
difference between the Creator and the most excellent of his creatures.
This obvious consequence was maintained by Ætius, 67 on whom the zeal of
his adversaries bestowed the surname of the Atheist. His restless and
aspiring spirit urged him to try almost every profession of human life. He
was successively a slave, or at least a husbandman, a travelling tinker, a
goldsmith, a physician, a schoolmaster, a theologian, and at last the
apostle of a new church, which was propagated by the abilities of his
disciple Eunomius. 68 Armed with texts of Scripture, and with
captious syllogisms from the logic of Aristotle, the subtle Ætius had
acquired the fame of an invincible disputant, whom it was impossible
either to silence or to convince. Such talents engaged the friendship of
the Arian bishops, till they were forced to renounce, and even to
persecute, a dangerous ally, who, by the accuracy of his reasoning, had
prejudiced their cause in the popular opinion, and offended the piety of
their most devoted followers. 2. The omnipotence of the Creator suggested
a specious and respectful solution of the likeness of the Father and the
Son; and faith might humbly receive what reason could not presume to deny,
that the Supreme God might communicate his infinite perfections, and
create a being similar only to himself. 69 These Arians were
powerfully supported by the weight and abilities of their leaders, who had
succeeded to the management of the Eusebian interest, and who occupied the
principal thrones of the East. They detested, perhaps with some
affectation, the impiety of Ætius; they professed to believe, either
without reserve, or according to the Scriptures, that the Son was
different from all other creatures, and similar only to the Father. But
they denied, the he was either of the same, or of a similar substance;
sometimes boldly justifying their dissent, and sometimes objecting to the
use of the word substance, which seems to imply an adequate, or at least,
a distinct, notion of the nature of the Deity. 3. The sect which deserted
the doctrine of a similar substance, was the most numerous, at least in
the provinces of Asia; and when the leaders of both parties were assembled
in the council of Seleucia, 70 their opinion would
have prevailed by a majority of one hundred and five to forty-three
bishops. The Greek word, which was chosen to express this mysterious
resemblance, bears so close an affinity to the orthodox symbol, that the
profane of every age have derided the furious contests which the
difference of a single diphthong excited between the Homoousians and the
Homoiousians. As it frequently happens, that the sounds and characters
which approach the nearest to each other accidentally represent the most
opposite ideas, the observation would be itself ridiculous, if it were
possible to mark any real and sensible distinction between the doctrine of
the Semi-Arians, as they were improperly styled, and that of the Catholics
themselves. The bishop of Poitiers, who in his Phrygian exile very wisely
aimed at a coalition of parties, endeavors to prove that by a pious and
faithful interpretation, 71 the Homoiousion may be reduced to a
consubstantial sense. Yet he confesses that the word has a dark and
suspicious aspect; and, as if darkness were congenial to theological
disputes, the Semi-Arians, who advanced to the doors of the church,
assailed them with the most unrelenting fury.
The provinces of Egypt and Asia, which cultivated the language and manners
of the Greeks, had deeply imbibed the venom of the Arian controversy. The
familiar study of the Platonic system, a vain and argumentative
disposition, a copious and flexible idiom, supplied the clergy and people
of the East with an inexhaustible flow of words and distinctions; and, in
the midst of their fierce contentions, they easily forgot the doubt which
is recommended by philosophy, and the submission which is enjoined by
religion. The inhabitants of the West were of a less inquisitive spirit;
their passions were not so forcibly moved by invisible objects, their
minds were less frequently exercised by the habits of dispute; and such
was the happy ignorance of the Gallican church, that Hilary himself, above
thirty years after the first general council, was still a stranger to the
Nicene creed. 72 The Latins had received the rays of divine
knowledge through the dark and doubtful medium of a translation. The
poverty and stubbornness of their native tongue was not always capable of
affording just equivalents for the Greek terms, for the technical words of
the Platonic philosophy, 73 which had been consecrated, by the gospel or
by the church, to express the mysteries of the Christian faith; and a
verbal defect might introduce into the Latin theology a long train of
error or perplexity. 74 But as the western provincials had the good
fortune of deriving their religion from an orthodox source, they preserved
with steadiness the doctrine which they had accepted with docility; and
when the Arian pestilence approached their frontiers, they were supplied
with the seasonable preservative of the Homoousion, by the paternal care
of the Roman pontiff. Their sentiments and their temper were displayed in
the memorable synod of Rimini, which surpassed in numbers the council of
Nice, since it was composed of above four hundred bishops of Italy,
Africa, Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Illyricum. From the first debates it
appeared, that only fourscore prelates adhered to the party, though they
affected to anathematize the name and memory, of Arius. But this
inferiority was compensated by the advantages of skill, of experience, and
of discipline; and the minority was conducted by Valens and Ursacius, two
bishops of Illyricum, who had spent their lives in the intrigues of courts
and councils, and who had been trained under the Eusebian banner in the
religious wars of the East. By their arguments and negotiations, they
embarrassed, they confounded, they at last deceived, the honest simplicity
of the Latin bishops; who suffered the palladium of the faith to be
extorted from their hand by fraud and importunity, rather than by open
violence. The council of Rimini was not allowed to separate, till the
members had imprudently subscribed a captious creed, in which some
expressions, susceptible of an heretical sense, were inserted in the room
of the Homoousion. It was on this occasion, that, according to Jerom, the
world was surprised to find itself Arian. 75 But the bishops of
the Latin provinces had no sooner reached their respective dioceses, than
they discovered their mistake, and repented of their weakness. The
ignominious capitulation was rejected with disdain and abhorrence; and the
Homoousian standard, which had been shaken but not overthrown, was more
firmly replanted in all the churches of the West. 76
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part IV.
Such was the rise and progress, and such were the natural revolutions of
those theological disputes, which disturbed the peace of Christianity
under the reigns of Constantine and of his sons. But as those princes
presumed to extend their despotism over the faith, as well as over the
lives and fortunes, of their subjects, the weight of their suffrage
sometimes inclined the ecclesiastical balance: and the prerogatives of the
King of Heaven were settled, or changed, or modified, in the cabinet of an
earthly monarch. The unhappy spirit of discord which pervaded the
provinces of the East, interrupted the triumph of Constantine; but the
emperor continued for some time to view, with cool and careless
indifference, the object of the dispute. As he was yet ignorant of the
difficulty of appeasing the quarrels of theologians, he addressed to the
contending parties, to Alexander and to Arius, a moderating epistle; 77
which may be ascribed, with far greater reason, to the untutored sense of
a soldier and statesman, than to the dictates of any of his episcopal
counsellors. He attributes the origin of the whole controversy to a
trifling and subtle question, concerning an incomprehensible point of law,
which was foolishly asked by the bishop, and imprudently resolved by the
presbyter. He laments that the Christian people, who had the same God, the
same religion, and the same worship, should be divided by such
inconsiderable distinctions; and he seriously recommends to the clergy of
Alexandria the example of the Greek philosophers; who could maintain their
arguments without losing their temper, and assert their freedom without
violating their friendship. The indifference and contempt of the sovereign
would have been, perhaps, the most effectual method of silencing the
dispute, if the popular current had been less rapid and impetuous, and if
Constantine himself, in the midst of faction and fanaticism, could have
preserved the calm possession of his own mind. But his ecclesiastical
ministers soon contrived to seduce the impartiality of the magistrate, and
to awaken the zeal of the proselyte. He was provoked by the insults which
had been offered to his statues; he was alarmed by the real, as well as
the imaginary magnitude of the spreading mischief; and he extinguished the
hope of peace and toleration, from the moment that he assembled three
hundred bishops within the walls of the same palace. The presence of the
monarch swelled the importance of the debate; his attention multiplied the
arguments; and he exposed his person with a patient intrepidity, which
animated the valor of the combatants. Notwithstanding the applause which
has been bestowed on the eloquence and sagacity of Constantine, 78
a Roman general, whose religion might be still a subject of doubt, and
whose mind had not been enlightened either by study or by inspiration, was
indifferently qualified to discuss, in the Greek language, a metaphysical
question, or an article of faith. But the credit of his favorite Osius,
who appears to have presided in the council of Nice, might dispose the
emperor in favor of the orthodox party; and a well-timed insinuation, that
the same Eusebius of Nicomedia, who now protected the heretic, had lately
assisted the tyrant, 79 might exasperate him against their
adversaries. The Nicene creed was ratified by Constantine; and his firm
declaration, that those who resisted the divine judgment of the synod,
must prepare themselves for an immediate exile, annihilated the murmurs of
a feeble opposition; which, from seventeen, was almost instantly reduced
to two, protesting bishops. Eusebius of Cæsarea yielded a reluctant and
ambiguous consent to the Homoousion; 80 and the wavering
conduct of the Nicomedian Eusebius served only to delay, about three
months, his disgrace and exile. 81 The impious Arius was
banished into one of the remote provinces of Illyricum; his person and
disciples were branded by law with the odious name of Porphyrians; his
writings were condemned to the flames, and a capital punishment was
denounced against those in whose possession they should be found. The
emperor had now imbibed the spirit of controversy, and the angry,
sarcastic style of his edicts was designed to inspire his subjects with
the hatred which he had conceived against the enemies of Christ. 82
But, as if the conduct of the emperor had been guided by passion instead
of principle, three years from the council of Nice were scarcely elapsed
before he discovered some symptoms of mercy, and even of indulgence,
towards the proscribed sect, which was secretly protected by his favorite
sister. The exiles were recalled, and Eusebius, who gradually resumed his
influence over the mind of Constantine, was restored to the episcopal
throne, from which he had been ignominiously degraded. Arius himself was
treated by the whole court with the respect which would have been due to
an innocent and oppressed man. His faith was approved by the synod of
Jerusalem; and the emperor seemed impatient to repair his injustice, by
issuing an absolute command, that he should be solemnly admitted to the
communion in the cathedral of Constantinople. On the same day, which had
been fixed for the triumph of Arius, he expired; and the strange and
horrid circumstances of his death might excite a suspicion, that the
orthodox saints had contributed more efficaciously than by their prayers,
to deliver the church from the most formidable of her enemies. 83
The three principal leaders of the Catholics, Athanasius of Alexandria,
Eustathius of Antioch, and Paul of Constantinople were deposed on various
f accusations, by the sentence of numerous councils; and were afterwards
banished into distant provinces by the first of the Christian emperors,
who, in the last moments of his life, received the rites of baptism from
the Arian bishop of Nicomedia. The ecclesiastical government of
Constantine cannot be justified from the reproach of levity and weakness.
But the credulous monarch, unskilled in the stratagems of theological
warfare, might be deceived by the modest and specious professions of the
heretics, whose sentiments he never perfectly understood; and while he
protected Arius, and persecuted Athanasius, he still considered the
council of Nice as the bulwark of the Christian faith, and the peculiar
glory of his own reign. 84
The sons of Constantine must have been admitted from their childhood into
the rank of catechumens; but they imitated, in the delay of their baptism,
the example of their father. Like him they presumed to pronounce their
judgment on mysteries into which they had never been regularly initiated;
85
and the fate of the Trinitarian controversy depended, in a great measure,
on the sentiments of Constantius; who inherited the provinces of the East,
and acquired the possession of the whole empire. The Arian presbyter or
bishop, who had secreted for his use the testament of the deceased
emperor, improved the fortunate occasion which had introduced him to the
familiarity of a prince, whose public counsels were always swayed by his
domestic favorites. The eunuchs and slaves diffused the spiritual poison
through the palace, and the dangerous infection was communicated by the
female attendants to the guards, and by the empress to her unsuspicious
husband. 86 The partiality which Constantius always
expressed towards the Eusebian faction, was insensibly fortified by the
dexterous management of their leaders; and his victory over the tyrant
Magnentius increased his inclination, as well as ability, to employ the
arms of power in the cause of Arianism. While the two armies were engaged
in the plains of Mursa, and the fate of the two rivals depended on the
chance of war, the son of Constantine passed the anxious moments in a
church of the martyrs under the walls of the city. His spiritual
comforter, Valens, the Arian bishop of the diocese, employed the most
artful precautions to obtain such early intelligence as might secure
either his favor or his escape. A secret chain of swift and trusty
messengers informed him of the vicissitudes of the battle; and while the
courtiers stood trembling round their affrighted master, Valens assured
him that the Gallic legions gave way; and insinuated with some presence of
mind, that the glorious event had been revealed to him by an angel. The
grateful emperor ascribed his success to the merits and intercession of
the bishop of Mursa, whose faith had deserved the public and miraculous
approbation of Heaven. 87 The Arians, who considered as their own the
victory of Constantius, preferred his glory to that of his father. 88
Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, immediately composed the description of a
celestial cross, encircled with a splendid rainbow; which during the
festival of Pentecost, about the third hour of the day, had appeared over
the Mount of Olives, to the edification of the devout pilgrims, and the
people of the holy city. 89 The size of the meteor was gradually
magnified; and the Arian historian has ventured to affirm, that it was
conspicuous to the two armies in the plains of Pannonia; and that the
tyrant, who is purposely represented as an idolater, fled before the
auspicious sign of orthodox Christianity. 90
The sentiments of a judicious stranger, who has impartially considered the
progress of civil or ecclesiastical discord, are always entitled to our
notice; and a short passage of Ammianus, who served in the armies, and
studied the character of Constantius, is perhaps of more value than many
pages of theological invectives. “The Christian religion, which, in
itself,” says that moderate historian, “is plain and simple, he confounded
by the dotage of superstition. Instead of reconciling the parties by the
weight of his authority, he cherished and promulgated, by verbal disputes,
the differences which his vain curiosity had excited. The highways were
covered with troops of bishops galloping from every side to the
assemblies, which they call synods; and while they labored to reduce the
whole sect to their own particular opinions, the public establishment of
the posts was almost ruined by their hasty and repeated journeys.” 91
Our more intimate knowledge of the ecclesiastical transactions of the
reign of Constantius would furnish an ample commentary on this remarkable
passage, which justifies the rational apprehensions of Athanasius, that
the restless activity of the clergy, who wandered round the empire in
search of the true faith, would excite the contempt and laughter of the
unbelieving world. 92 As soon as the emperor was relieved from the
terrors of the civil war, he devoted the leisure of his winter quarters at
Arles, Milan, Sirmium, and Constantinople, to the amusement or toils of
controversy: the sword of the magistrate, and even of the tyrant, was
unsheathed, to enforce the reasons of the theologian; and as he opposed
the orthodox faith of Nice, it is readily confessed that his incapacity
and ignorance were equal to his presumption. 93 The eunuchs, the
women, and the bishops, who governed the vain and feeble mind of the
emperor, had inspired him with an insuperable dislike to the Homoousion;
but his timid conscience was alarmed by the impiety of Ætius. The guilt
of that atheist was aggravated by the suspicious favor of the unfortunate
Gallus; and even the death of the Imperial ministers, who had been
massacred at Antioch, were imputed to the suggestions of that dangerous
sophist. The mind of Constantius, which could neither be moderated by
reason, nor fixed by faith, was blindly impelled to either side of the
dark and empty abyss, by his horror of the opposite extreme; he
alternately embraced and condemned the sentiments, he successively
banished and recalled the leaders, of the Arian and Semi-Arian factions.
94
During the season of public business or festivity, he employed whole days,
and even nights, in selecting the words, and weighing the syllables, which
composed his fluctuating creeds. The subject of his meditations still
pursued and occupied his slumbers: the incoherent dreams of the emperor
were received as celestial visions, and he accepted with complacency the
lofty title of bishop of bishops, from those ecclesiastics who forgot the
interest of their order for the gratification of their passions. The
design of establishing a uniformity of doctrine, which had engaged him to
convene so many synods in Gaul, Italy, Illyricum, and Asia, was repeatedly
baffled by his own levity, by the divisions of the Arians, and by the
resistance of the Catholics; and he resolved, as the last and decisive
effort, imperiously to dictate the decrees of a general council. The
destructive earthquake of Nicomedia, the difficulty of finding a
convenient place, and perhaps some secret motives of policy, produced an
alteration in the summons. The bishops of the East were directed to meet
at Seleucia, in Isauria; while those of the West held their deliberations
at Rimini, on the coast of the Hadriatic; and instead of two or three
deputies from each province, the whole episcopal body was ordered to
march. The Eastern council, after consuming four days in fierce and
unavailing debate, separated without any definitive conclusion. The
council of the West was protracted till the seventh month. Taurus, the
Prætorian præfect was instructed not to dismiss the prelates till they
should all be united in the same opinion; and his efforts were supported
by the power of banishing fifteen of the most refractory, and a promise of
the consulship if he achieved so difficult an adventure. His prayers and
threats, the authority of the sovereign, the sophistry of Valens and
Ursacius, the distress of cold and hunger, and the tedious melancholy of a
hopeless exile, at length extorted the reluctant consent of the bishops of
Rimini. The deputies of the East and of the West attended the emperor in
the palace of Constantinople, and he enjoyed the satisfaction of imposing
on the world a profession of faith which established the likeness, without
expressing the consubstantiality, of the Son of God. 95
But the triumph of Arianism had been preceded by the removal of the
orthodox clergy, whom it was impossible either to intimidate or to
corrupt; and the reign of Constantius was disgraced by the unjust and
ineffectual persecution of the great Athanasius.
We have seldom an opportunity of observing, either in active or
speculative life, what effect may be produced, or what obstacles may be
surmounted, by the force of a single mind, when it is inflexibly applied
to the pursuit of a single object. The immortal name of Athanasius 96
will never be separated from the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity, to
whose defence he consecrated every moment and every faculty of his being.
Educated in the family of Alexander, he had vigorously opposed the early
progress of the Arian heresy: he exercised the important functions of
secretary under the aged prelate; and the fathers of the Nicene council
beheld with surprise and respect the rising virtues of the young deacon.
In a time of public danger, the dull claims of age and of rank are
sometimes superseded; and within five months after his return from Nice,
the deacon Athanasius was seated on the archiepiscopal throne of Egypt. He
filled that eminent station above forty-six years, and his long
administration was spent in a perpetual combat against the powers of
Arianism. Five times was Athanasius expelled from his throne; twenty years
he passed as an exile or a fugitive: and almost every province of the
Roman empire was successively witness to his merit, and his sufferings in
the cause of the Homoousion, which he considered as the sole pleasure and
business, as the duty, and as the glory of his life. Amidst the storms of
persecution, the archbishop of Alexandria was patient of labor, jealous of
fame, careless of safety; and although his mind was tainted by the
contagion of fanaticism, Athanasius displayed a superiority of character
and abilities, which would have qualified him, far better than the
degenerate sons of Constantine, for the government of a great monarchy.
His learning was much less profound and extensive than that of Eusebius of
Cæsarea, and his rude eloquence could not be compared with the polished
oratory of Gregory of Basil; but whenever the primate of Egypt was called
upon to justify his sentiments, or his conduct, his unpremeditated style,
either of speaking or writing, was clear, forcible, and persuasive. He has
always been revered, in the orthodox school, as one of the most accurate
masters of the Christian theology; and he was supposed to possess two
profane sciences, less adapted to the episcopal character, the knowledge
of jurisprudence, 97 and that of divination. 98
Some fortunate conjectures of future events, which impartial reasoners
might ascribe to the experience and judgment of Athanasius, were
attributed by his friends to heavenly inspiration, and imputed by his
enemies to infernal magic.
But as Athanasius was continually engaged with the prejudices and passions
of every order of men, from the monk to the emperor, the knowledge of
human nature was his first and most important science. He preserved a
distinct and unbroken view of a scene which was incessantly shifting; and
never failed to improve those decisive moments which are irrecoverably
past before they are perceived by a common eye. The archbishop of
Alexandria was capable of distinguishing how far he might boldly command,
and where he must dexterously insinuate; how long he might contend with
power, and when he must withdraw from persecution; and while he directed
the thunders of the church against heresy and rebellion, he could assume,
in the bosom of his own party, the flexible and indulgent temper of a
prudent leader. The election of Athanasius has not escaped the reproach of
irregularity and precipitation; 99 but the propriety of
his behavior conciliated the affections both of the clergy and of the
people. The Alexandrians were impatient to rise in arms for the defence of
an eloquent and liberal pastor. In his distress he always derived support,
or at least consolation, from the faithful attachment of his parochial
clergy; and the hundred bishops of Egypt adhered, with unshaken zeal, to
the cause of Athanasius. In the modest equipage which pride and policy
would affect, he frequently performed the episcopal visitation of his
provinces, from the mouth of the Nile to the confines of Æthiopia;
familiarly conversing with the meanest of the populace, and humbly
saluting the saints and hermits of the desert. 100 Nor was it only in
ecclesiastical assemblies, among men whose education and manners were
similar to his own, that Athanasius displayed the ascendancy of his
genius. He appeared with easy and respectful firmness in the courts of
princes; and in the various turns of his prosperous and adverse fortune he
never lost the confidence of his friends, or the esteem of his enemies.
In his youth, the primate of Egypt resisted the great Constantine, who had
repeatedly signified his will, that Arius should be restored to the
Catholic communion. 101 The emperor respected, and might forgive,
this inflexible resolution; and the faction who considered Athanasius as
their most formidable enemy, was constrained to dissemble their hatred,
and silently to prepare an indirect and distant assault. They scattered
rumors and suspicions, represented the archbishop as a proud and
oppressive tyrant, and boldly accused him of violating the treaty which
had been ratified in the Nicene council, with the schismatic followers of
Meletius. 102 Athanasius had openly disapproved that
ignominious peace, and the emperor was disposed to believe that he had
abused his ecclesiastical and civil power, to prosecute those odious
sectaries: that he had sacrilegiously broken a chalice in one of their
churches of Mareotis; that he had whipped or imprisoned six of their
bishops; and that Arsenius, a seventh bishop of the same party, had been
murdered, or at least mutilated, by the cruel hand of the primate. 103
These charges, which affected his honor and his life, were referred by
Constantine to his brother Dalmatius the censor, who resided at Antioch;
the synods of Cæsarea and Tyre were successively convened; and the
bishops of the East were instructed to judge the cause of Athanasius,
before they proceeded to consecrate the new church of the Resurrection at
Jerusalem. The primate might be conscious of his innocence; but he was
sensible that the same implacable spirit which had dictated the
accusation, would direct the proceeding, and pronounce the sentence. He
prudently declined the tribunal of his enemies; despised the summons of
the synod of Cæsarea; and, after a long and artful delay, submitted to
the peremptory commands of the emperor, who threatened to punish his
criminal disobedience if he refused to appear in the council of Tyre. 104
Before Athanasius, at the head of fifty Egyptian prelates, sailed from
Alexandria, he had wisely secured the alliance of the Meletians; and
Arsenius himself, his imaginary victim, and his secret friend, was
privately concealed in his train. The synod of Tyre was conducted by
Eusebius of Cæsarea, with more passion, and with less art, than his
learning and experience might promise; his numerous faction repeated the
names of homicide and tyrant; and their clamors were encouraged by the
seeming patience of Athanasius, who expected the decisive moment to
produce Arsenius alive and unhurt in the midst of the assembly. The nature
of the other charges did not admit of such clear and satisfactory replies;
yet the archbishop was able to prove, that in the village, where he was
accused of breaking a consecrated chalice, neither church nor altar nor
chalice could really exist.
The Arians, who had secretly determined the guilt and condemnation of
their enemy, attempted, however, to disguise their injustice by the
imitation of judicial forms: the synod appointed an episcopal commission
of six delegates to collect evidence on the spot; and this measure which
was vigorously opposed by the Egyptian bishops, opened new scenes of
violence and perjury. 105 After the return of the deputies from
Alexandria, the majority of the council pronounced the final sentence of
degradation and exile against the primate of Egypt. The decree, expressed
in the fiercest language of malice and revenge, was communicated to the
emperor and the Catholic church; and the bishops immediately resumed a
mild and devout aspect, such as became their holy pilgrimage to the
Sepulchre of Christ. 106
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part V.
But the injustice of these ecclesiastical judges had not been countenanced
by the submission, or even by the presence, of Athanasius. He resolved to
make a bold and dangerous experiment, whether the throne was inaccessible
to the voice of truth; and before the final sentence could be pronounced
at Tyre, the intrepid primate threw himself into a bark which was ready to
hoist sail for the Imperial city. The request of a formal audience might
have been opposed or eluded; but Athanasius concealed his arrival, watched
the moment of Constantine’s return from an adjacent villa, and boldly
encountered his angry sovereign as he passed on horseback through the
principal street of Constantinople. So strange an apparition excited his
surprise and indignation; and the guards were ordered to remove the
importunate suitor; but his resentment was subdued by involuntary respect;
and the haughty spirit of the emperor was awed by the courage and
eloquence of a bishop, who implored his justice and awakened his
conscience. 107 Constantine listened to the complaints of
Athanasius with impartial and even gracious attention; the members of the
synod of Tyre were summoned to justify their proceedings; and the arts of
the Eusebian faction would have been confounded, if they had not
aggravated the guilt of the primate, by the dexterous supposition of an
unpardonable offence; a criminal design to intercept and detain the
corn-fleet of Alexandria, which supplied the subsistence of the new
capital. 108 The emperor was satisfied that the peace of
Egypt would be secured by the absence of a popular leader; but he refused
to fill the vacancy of the archiepiscopal throne; and the sentence, which,
after long hesitation, he pronounced, was that of a jealous ostracism,
rather than of an ignominious exile. In the remote province of Gaul, but
in the hospitable court of Treves, Athanasius passed about twenty eight
months. The death of the emperor changed the face of public affairs and,
amidst the general indulgence of a young reign, the primate was restored
to his country by an honorable edict of the younger Constantine, who
expressed a deep sense of the innocence and merit of his venerable guest.
109
The death of that prince exposed Athanasius to a second persecution; and
the feeble Constantius, the sovereign of the East, soon became the secret
accomplice of the Eusebians. Ninety bishops of that sect or faction
assembled at Antioch, under the specious pretence of dedicating the
cathedral. They composed an ambiguous creed, which is faintly tinged with
the colors of Semi-Arianism, and twenty-five canons, which still regulate
the discipline of the orthodox Greeks. 110 It was decided,
with some appearance of equity, that a bishop, deprived by a synod, should
not resume his episcopal functions till he had been absolved by the
judgment of an equal synod; the law was immediately applied to the case of
Athanasius; the council of Antioch pronounced, or rather confirmed, his
degradation: a stranger, named Gregory, was seated on his throne; and
Philagrius, 111 the præfect of Egypt, was instructed to
support the new primate with the civil and military powers of the
province. Oppressed by the conspiracy of the Asiatic prelates, Athanasius
withdrew from Alexandria, and passed three years 112 as an exile and a
suppliant on the holy threshold of the Vatican. 113 By the assiduous
study of the Latin language, he soon qualified himself to negotiate with
the western clergy; his decent flattery swayed and directed the haughty
Julius; the Roman pontiff was persuaded to consider his appeal as the
peculiar interest of the Apostolic see: and his innocence was unanimously
declared in a council of fifty bishops of Italy. At the end of three
years, the primate was summoned to the court of Milan by the emperor
Constans, who, in the indulgence of unlawful pleasures, still professed a
lively regard for the orthodox faith. The cause of truth and justice was
promoted by the influence of gold, 114 and the ministers
of Constans advised their sovereign to require the convocation of an
ecclesiastical assembly, which might act as the representatives of the
Catholic church. Ninety-four bishops of the West, seventy-six bishops of
the East, encountered each other at Sardica, on the verge of the two
empires, but in the dominions of the protector of Athanasius. Their
debates soon degenerated into hostile altercations; the Asiatics,
apprehensive for their personal safety, retired to Philippopolis in
Thrace; and the rival synods reciprocally hurled their spiritual thunders
against their enemies, whom they piously condemned as the enemies of the
true God. Their decrees were published and ratified in their respective
provinces: and Athanasius, who in the West was revered as a saint, was
exposed as a criminal to the abhorrence of the East. 115
The council of Sardica reveals the first symptoms of discord and schism
between the Greek and Latin churches which were separated by the
accidental difference of faith, and the permanent distinction of language.
Sæpe premente Deo fert Deus alter opem.
For the credit of human nature, I am always pleased to discover some good
qualities in those men whom party has represented as tyrants and
monsters.]
During his second exile in the West, Athanasius was frequently admitted to
the Imperial presence; at Capua, Lodi, Milan, Verona, Padua, Aquileia, and
Treves. The bishop of the diocese usually assisted at these interviews;
the master of the offices stood before the veil or curtain of the sacred
apartment; and the uniform moderation of the primate might be attested by
these respectable witnesses, to whose evidence he solemnly appeals. 116
Prudence would undoubtedly suggest the mild and respectful tone that
became a subject and a bishop. In these familiar conferences with the
sovereign of the West, Athanasius might lament the error of Constantius,
but he boldly arraigned the guilt of his eunuchs and his Arian prelates;
deplored the distress and danger of the Catholic church; and excited
Constans to emulate the zeal and glory of his father. The emperor declared
his resolution of employing the troops and treasures of Europe in the
orthodox cause; and signified, by a concise and peremptory epistle to his
brother Constantius, that unless he consented to the immediate restoration
of Athanasius, he himself, with a fleet and army, would seat the
archbishop on the throne of Alexandria. 117 But this religious
war, so horrible to nature, was prevented by the timely compliance of
Constantius; and the emperor of the East condescended to solicit a
reconciliation with a subject whom he had injured. Athanasius waited with
decent pride, till he had received three successive epistles full of the
strongest assurances of the protection, the favor, and the esteem of his
sovereign; who invited him to resume his episcopal seat, and who added the
humiliating precaution of engaging his principal ministers to attest the
sincerity of his intentions. They were manifested in a still more public
manner, by the strict orders which were despatched into Egypt to recall
the adherents of Athanasius, to restore their privileges, to proclaim
their innocence, and to erase from the public registers the illegal
proceedings which had been obtained during the prevalence of the Eusebian
faction. After every satisfaction and security had been given, which
justice or even delicacy could require, the primate proceeded, by slow
journeys, through the provinces of Thrace, Asia, and Syria; and his
progress was marked by the abject homage of the Oriental bishops, who
excited his contempt without deceiving his penetration. 118
At Antioch he saw the emperor Constantius; sustained, with modest
firmness, the embraces and protestations of his master, and eluded the
proposal of allowing the Arians a single church at Alexandria, by
claiming, in the other cities of the empire, a similar toleration for his
own party; a reply which might have appeared just and moderate in the
mouth of an independent prince. The entrance of the archbishop into his
capital was a triumphal procession; absence and persecution had endeared
him to the Alexandrians; his authority, which he exercised with rigor, was
more firmly established; and his fame was diffused from Æthiopia to
Britain, over the whole extent of the Christian world. 119
But the subject who has reduced his prince to the necessity of
dissembling, can never expect a sincere and lasting forgiveness; and the
tragic fate of Constans soon deprived Athanasius of a powerful and
generous protector. The civil war between the assassin and the only
surviving brother of Constans, which afflicted the empire above three
years, secured an interval of repose to the Catholic church; and the two
contending parties were desirous to conciliate the friendship of a bishop,
who, by the weight of his personal authority, might determine the
fluctuating resolutions of an important province. He gave audience to the
ambassadors of the tyrant, with whom he was afterwards accused of holding
a secret correspondence; 120 and the emperor Constantius repeatedly
assured his dearest father, the most reverend Athanasius, that,
notwithstanding the malicious rumors which were circulated by their common
enemies, he had inherited the sentiments, as well as the throne, of his
deceased brother. 121 Gratitude and humanity would have disposed
the primate of Egypt to deplore the untimely fate of Constans, and to
abhor the guilt of Magnentius; but as he clearly understood that the
apprehensions of Constantius were his only safeguard, the fervor of his
prayers for the success of the righteous cause might perhaps be somewhat
abated. The ruin of Athanasius was no longer contrived by the obscure
malice of a few bigoted or angry bishops, who abused the authority of a
credulous monarch. The monarch himself avowed the resolution, which he had
so long suppressed, of avenging his private injuries; 122
and the first winter after his victory, which he passed at Arles, was
employed against an enemy more odious to him than the vanquished tyrant of
Gaul.
If the emperor had capriciously decreed the death of the most eminent and
virtuous citizen of the republic, the cruel order would have been executed
without hesitation, by the ministers of open violence or of specious
injustice. The caution, the delay, the difficulty with which he proceeded
in the condemnation and punishment of a popular bishop, discovered to the
world that the privileges of the church had already revived a sense of
order and freedom in the Roman government. The sentence which was
pronounced in the synod of Tyre, and subscribed by a large majority of the
Eastern bishops, had never been expressly repealed; and as Athanasius had
been once degraded from his episcopal dignity by the judgment of his
brethren, every subsequent act might be considered as irregular, and even
criminal. But the memory of the firm and effectual support which the
primate of Egypt had derived from the attachment of the Western church,
engaged Constantius to suspend the execution of the sentence till he had
obtained the concurrence of the Latin bishops. Two years were consumed in
ecclesiastical negotiations; and the important cause between the emperor
and one of his subjects was solemnly debated, first in the synod of Arles,
and afterwards in the great council of Milan, 123 which consisted of
above three hundred bishops. Their integrity was gradually undermined by
the arguments of the Arians, the dexterity of the eunuchs, and the
pressing solicitations of a prince who gratified his revenge at the
expense of his dignity, and exposed his own passions, whilst he influenced
those of the clergy. Corruption, the most infallible symptom of
constitutional liberty, was successfully practised; honors, gifts, and
immunities were offered and accepted as the price of an episcopal vote; 124
and the condemnation of the Alexandrian primate was artfully represented
as the only measure which could restore the peace and union of the
Catholic church. The friends of Athanasius were not, however, wanting to
their leader, or to their cause. With a manly spirit, which the sanctity
of their character rendered less dangerous, they maintained, in public
debate, and in private conference with the emperor, the eternal obligation
of religion and justice. They declared, that neither the hope of his
favor, nor the fear of his displeasure, should prevail on them to join in
the condemnation of an absent, an innocent, a respectable brother. 125
They affirmed, with apparent reason, that the illegal and obsolete decrees
of the council of Tyre had long since been tacitly abolished by the
Imperial edicts, the honorable reestablishment of the archbishop of
Alexandria, and the silence or recantation of his most clamorous
adversaries. They alleged, that his innocence had been attested by the
unanimous bishops of Egypt, and had been acknowledged in the councils of
Rome and Sardica, 126 by the impartial judgment of the Latin
church. They deplored the hard condition of Athanasius, who, after
enjoying so many years his seat, his reputation, and the seeming
confidence of his sovereign, was again called upon to confute the most
groundless and extravagant accusations. Their language was specious; their
conduct was honorable: but in this long and obstinate contest, which fixed
the eyes of the whole empire on a single bishop, the ecclesiastical
factions were prepared to sacrifice truth and justice to the more
interesting object of defending or removing the intrepid champion of the
Nicene faith. The Arians still thought it prudent to disguise, in
ambiguous language, their real sentiments and designs; but the orthodox
bishops, armed with the favor of the people, and the decrees of a general
council, insisted on every occasion, and particularly at Milan, that their
adversaries should purge themselves from the suspicion of heresy, before
they presumed to arraign the conduct of the great Athanasius. 127
But the voice of reason (if reason was indeed on the side of Athanasius)
was silenced by the clamors of a factious or venal majority; and the
councils of Arles and Milan were not dissolved, till the archbishop of
Alexandria had been solemnly condemned and deposed by the judgment of the
Western, as well as of the Eastern, church. The bishops who had opposed,
were required to subscribe, the sentence, and to unite in religious
communion with the suspected leaders of the adverse party. A formulary of
consent was transmitted by the messengers of state to the absent bishops:
and all those who refused to submit their private opinion to the public
and inspired wisdom of the councils of Arles and Milan, were immediately
banished by the emperor, who affected to execute the decrees of the
Catholic church. Among those prelates who led the honorable band of
confessors and exiles, Liberius of Rome, Osius of Cordova, Paulinus of
Treves, Dionysius of Milan, Eusebius of Vercellæ, Lucifer of Cagliari and
Hilary of Poitiers, may deserve to be particularly distinguished. The
eminent station of Liberius, who governed the capital of the empire; the
personal merit and long experience of the venerable Osius, who was revered
as the favorite of the great Constantine, and the father of the Nicene
faith, placed those prelates at the head of the Latin church: and their
example, either of submission or resistance, would probable be imitated by
the episcopal crowd. But the repeated attempts of the emperor to seduce or
to intimidate the bishops of Rome and Cordova, were for some time
ineffectual. The Spaniard declared himself ready to suffer under
Constantius, as he had suffered threescore years before under his
grandfather Maximian. The Roman, in the presence of his sovereign,
asserted the innocence of Athanasius and his own freedom. When he was
banished to Beræa in Thrace, he sent back a large sum which had been
offered for the accommodation of his journey; and insulted the court of
Milan by the haughty remark, that the emperor and his eunuchs might want
that gold to pay their soldiers and their bishops. 128
The resolution of Liberius and Osius was at length subdued by the
hardships of exile and confinement. The Roman pontiff purchased his return
by some criminal compliances; and afterwards expiated his guilt by a
seasonable repentance. Persuasion and violence were employed to extort the
reluctant signature of the decrepit bishop of Cordova, whose strength was
broken, and whose faculties were perhaps impaired by the weight of a
hundred years; and the insolent triumph of the Arians provoked some of the
orthodox party to treat with inhuman severity the character, or rather the
memory, of an unfortunate old man, to whose former services Christianity
itself was so deeply indebted. 129
The fall of Liberius and Osius reflected a brighter lustre on the firmness
of those bishops who still adhered, with unshaken fidelity, to the cause
of Athanasius and religious truth. The ingenious malice of their enemies
had deprived them of the benefit of mutual comfort and advice, separated
those illustrious exiles into distant provinces, and carefully selected
the most inhospitable spots of a great empire. 130 Yet they soon
experienced that the deserts of Libya, and the most barbarous tracts of
Cappadocia, were less inhospitable than the residence of those cities in
which an Arian bishop could satiate, without restraint, the exquisite
rancor of theological hatred. 131 Their consolation
was derived from the consciousness of rectitude and independence, from the
applause, the visits, the letters, and the liberal alms of their
adherents, 132 and from the satisfaction which they soon
enjoyed of observing the intestine divisions of the adversaries of the
Nicene faith. Such was the nice and capricious taste of the emperor
Constantius; and so easily was he offended by the slightest deviation from
his imaginary standard of Christian truth, that he persecuted, with equal
zeal, those who defended the consubstantiality, those who asserted the
similar substance, and those who denied the likeness of the Son of God.
Three bishops, degraded and banished for those adverse opinions, might
possibly meet in the same place of exile; and, according to the difference
of their temper, might either pity or insult the blind enthusiasm of their
antagonists, whose present sufferings would never be compensated by future
happiness.
The disgrace and exile of the orthodox bishops of the West were designed
as so many preparatory steps to the ruin of Athanasius himself. 133
Six-and-twenty months had elapsed, during which the Imperial court
secretly labored, by the most insidious arts, to remove him from
Alexandria, and to withdraw the allowance which supplied his popular
liberality. But when the primate of Egypt, deserted and proscribed by the
Latin church, was left destitute of any foreign support, Constantius
despatched two of his secretaries with a verbal commission to announce and
execute the order of his banishment. As the justice of the sentence was
publicly avowed by the whole party, the only motive which could restrain
Constantius from giving his messengers the sanction of a written mandate,
must be imputed to his doubt of the event; and to a sense of the danger to
which he might expose the second city, and the most fertile province, of
the empire, if the people should persist in the resolution of defending,
by force of arms, the innocence of their spiritual father. Such extreme
caution afforded Athanasius a specious pretence respectfully to dispute
the truth of an order, which he could not reconcile, either with the
equity, or with the former declarations, of his gracious master. The civil
powers of Egypt found themselves inadequate to the task of persuading or
compelling the primate to abdicate his episcopal throne; and they were
obliged to conclude a treaty with the popular leaders of Alexandria, by
which it was stipulated, that all proceedings and all hostilities should
be suspended till the emperor’s pleasure had been more distinctly
ascertained. By this seeming moderation, the Catholics were deceived into
a false and fatal security; while the legions of the Upper Egypt, and of
Libya, advanced, by secret orders and hasty marches, to besiege, or rather
to surprise, a capital habituated to sedition, and inflamed by religious
zeal. 134 The position of Alexandria, between the sea
and the Lake Mareotis, facilitated the approach and landing of the troops;
who were introduced into the heart of the city, before any effectual
measures could be taken either to shut the gates or to occupy the
important posts of defence. At the hour of midnight, twenty-three days
after the signature of the treaty, Syrianus, duke of Egypt, at the head of
five thousand soldiers, armed and prepared for an assault, unexpectedly
invested the church of St. Theonas, where the archbishop, with a part of
his clergy and people, performed their nocturnal devotions. The doors of
the sacred edifice yielded to the impetuosity of the attack, which was
accompanied with every horrid circumstance of tumult and bloodshed; but,
as the bodies of the slain, and the fragments of military weapons,
remained the next day an unexceptionable evidence in the possession of the
Catholics, the enterprise of Syrianus may be considered as a successful
irruption rather than as an absolute conquest. The other churches of the
city were profaned by similar outrages; and, during at least four months,
Alexandria was exposed to the insults of a licentious army, stimulated by
the ecclesiastics of a hostile faction. Many of the faithful were killed;
who may deserve the name of martyrs, if their deaths were neither provoked
nor revenged; bishops and presbyters were treated with cruel ignominy;
consecrated virgins were stripped naked, scourged and violated; the houses
of wealthy citizens were plundered; and, under the mask of religious zeal,
lust, avarice, and private resentment were gratified with impunity, and
even with applause. The Pagans of Alexandria, who still formed a numerous
and discontented party, were easily persuaded to desert a bishop whom they
feared and esteemed. The hopes of some peculiar favors, and the
apprehension of being involved in the general penalties of rebellion,
engaged them to promise their support to the destined successor of
Athanasius, the famous George of Cappadocia. The usurper, after receiving
the consecration of an Arian synod, was placed on the episcopal throne by
the arms of Sebastian, who had been appointed Count of Egypt for the
execution of that important design. In the use, as well as in the
acquisition, of power, the tyrant, George disregarded the laws of
religion, of justice, and of humanity; and the same scenes of violence and
scandal which had been exhibited in the capital, were repeated in more
than ninety episcopal cities of Egypt. Encouraged by success, Constantius
ventured to approve the conduct of his minister. By a public and
passionate epistle, the emperor congratulates the deliverance of
Alexandria from a popular tyrant, who deluded his blind votaries by the
magic of his eloquence; expatiates on the virtues and piety of the most
reverend George, the elected bishop; and aspires, as the patron and
benefactor of the city to surpass the fame of Alexander himself. But he
solemnly declares his unalterable resolution to pursue with fire and sword
the seditious adherents of the wicked Athanasius, who, by flying from
justice, has confessed his guilt, and escaped the ignominious death which
he had so often deserved. 135
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part VI.
Athanasius had indeed escaped from the most imminent dangers; and the
adventures of that extraordinary man deserve and fix our attention. On the
memorable night when the church of St. Theonas was invested by the troops
of Syrianus, the archbishop, seated on his throne, expected, with calm and
intrepid dignity, the approach of death. While the public devotion was
interrupted by shouts of rage and cries of terror, he animated his
trembling congregation to express their religious confidence, by chanting
one of the psalms of David which celebrates the triumph of the God of
Israel over the haughty and impious tyrant of Egypt. The doors were at
length burst open: a cloud of arrows was discharged among the people; the
soldiers, with drawn swords, rushed forwards into the sanctuary; and the
dreadful gleam of their arms was reflected by the holy luminaries which
burnt round the altar. 136 Athanasius still rejected the pious
importunity of the monks and presbyters, who were attached to his person;
and nobly refused to desert his episcopal station, till he had dismissed
in safety the last of the congregation. The darkness and tumult of the
night favored the retreat of the archbishop; and though he was oppressed
by the waves of an agitated multitude, though he was thrown to the ground,
and left without sense or motion, he still recovered his undaunted
courage, and eluded the eager search of the soldiers, who were instructed
by their Arian guides, that the head of Athanasius would be the most
acceptable present to the emperor. From that moment the primate of Egypt
disappeared from the eyes of his enemies, and remained above six years
concealed in impenetrable obscurity. 137
The despotic power of his implacable enemy filled the whole extent of the
Roman world; and the exasperated monarch had endeavored, by a very
pressing epistle to the Christian princes of Ethiopia, 13711 to exclude Athanasius from the most
remote and sequestered regions of the earth. Counts, præfects, tribunes,
whole armies, were successively employed to pursue a bishop and a
fugitive; the vigilance of the civil and military powers was excited by
the Imperial edicts; liberal rewards were promised to the man who should
produce Athanasius, either alive or dead; and the most severe penalties
were denounced against those who should dare to protect the public enemy.
138
But the deserts of Thebais were now peopled by a race of wild, yet
submissive fanatics, who preferred the commands of their abbot to the laws
of their sovereign. The numerous disciples of Antony and Pachonnus
received the fugitive primate as their father, admired the patience and
humility with which he conformed to their strictest institutions,
collected every word which dropped from his lips as the genuine effusions
of inspired wisdom; and persuaded themselves that their prayers, their
fasts, and their vigils, were less meritorious than the zeal which they
expressed, and the dangers which they braved, in the defence of truth and
innocence. 139 The monasteries of Egypt were seated in
lonely and desolate places, on the summit of mountains, or in the islands
of the Nile; and the sacred horn or trumpet of Tabenne was the well-known
signal which assembled several thousand robust and determined monks, who,
for the most part, had been the peasants of the adjacent country. When
their dark retreats were invaded by a military force, which it was
impossible to resist, they silently stretched out their necks to the
executioner; and supported their national character, that tortures could
never wrest from an Egyptian the confession of a secret which he was
resolved not to disclose. 140 The archbishop of
Alexandria, for whose safety they eagerly devoted their lives, was lost
among a uniform and well-disciplined multitude; and on the nearer approach
of danger, he was swiftly removed, by their officious hands, from one
place of concealment to another, till he reached the formidable deserts,
which the gloomy and credulous temper of superstition had peopled with
dæmons and savage monsters. The retirement of Athanasius, which ended
only with the life of Constantius, was spent, for the most part, in the
society of the monks, who faithfully served him as guards, as secretaries,
and as messengers; but the importance of maintaining a more intimate
connection with the Catholic party tempted him, whenever the diligence of
the pursuit was abated, to emerge from the desert, to introduce himself
into Alexandria, and to trust his person to the discretion of his friends
and adherents. His various adventures might have furnished the subject of
a very entertaining romance. He was once secreted in a dry cistern, which
he had scarcely left before he was betrayed by the treachery of a female
slave; 141 and he was once concealed in a still more
extraordinary asylum, the house of a virgin, only twenty years of age, and
who was celebrated in the whole city for her exquisite beauty. At the hour
of midnight, as she related the story many years afterwards, she was
surprised by the appearance of the archbishop in a loose undress, who,
advancing with hasty steps, conjured her to afford him the protection
which he had been directed by a celestial vision to seek under her
hospitable roof. The pious maid accepted and preserved the sacred pledge
which was intrusted to her prudence and courage. Without imparting the
secret to any one, she instantly conducted Athanasius into her most secret
chamber, and watched over his safety with the tenderness of a friend and
the assiduity of a servant. As long as the danger continued, she regularly
supplied him with books and provisions, washed his feet, managed his
correspondence, and dexterously concealed from the eye of suspicion this
familiar and solitary intercourse between a saint whose character required
the most unblemished chastity, and a female whose charms might excite the
most dangerous emotions. 142 During the six years of persecution and
exile, Athanasius repeated his visits to his fair and faithful companion;
and the formal declaration, that he saw the councils of Rimini and
Seleucia, 143 forces us to believe that he was secretly
present at the time and place of their convocation. The advantage of
personally negotiating with his friends, and of observing and improving
the divisions of his enemies, might justify, in a prudent statesman, so
bold and dangerous an enterprise: and Alexandria was connected by trade
and navigation with every seaport of the Mediterranean. From the depth of
his inaccessible retreat the intrepid primate waged an incessant and
offensive war against the protector of the Arians; and his seasonable
writings, which were diligently circulated and eagerly perused,
contributed to unite and animate the orthodox party. In his public
apologies, which he addressed to the emperor himself, he sometimes
affected the praise of moderation; whilst at the same time, in secret and
vehement invectives, he exposed Constantius as a weak and wicked prince,
the executioner of his family, the tyrant of the republic, and the
Antichrist of the church. In the height of his prosperity, the victorious
monarch, who had chastised the rashness of Gallus, and suppressed the
revolt of Sylvanus, who had taken the diadem from the head of Vetranio,
and vanquished in the field the legions of Magnentius, received from an
invisible hand a wound, which he could neither heal nor revenge; and the
son of Constantine was the first of the Christian princes who experienced
the strength of those principles, which, in the cause of religion, could
resist the most violent exertions 144 of the civil
power.
The persecution of Athanasius, and of so many respectable bishops, who
suffered for the truth of their opinions, or at least for the integrity of
their conscience, was a just subject of indignation and discontent to all
Christians, except those who were blindly devoted to the Arian faction.
The people regretted the loss of their faithful pastors, whose banishment
was usually followed by the intrusion of a stranger 145
into the episcopal chair; and loudly complained, that the right of
election was violated, and that they were condemned to obey a mercenary
usurper, whose person was unknown, and whose principles were suspected.
The Catholics might prove to the world, that they were not involved in the
guilt and heresy of their ecclesiastical governor, by publicly testifying
their dissent, or by totally separating themselves from his communion. The
first of these methods was invented at Antioch, and practised with such
success, that it was soon diffused over the Christian world. The doxology
or sacred hymn, which celebrates the glory of the Trinity, is susceptible
of very nice, but material, inflections; and the substance of an orthodox,
or an heretical, creed, may be expressed by the difference of a
disjunctive, or a copulative, particle. Alternate responses, and a more
regular psalmody, 146 were introduced into the public service by
Flavianus and Diodorus, two devout and active laymen, who were attached to
the Nicene faith. Under their conduct a swarm of monks issued from the
adjacent desert, bands of well-disciplined singers were stationed in the
cathedral of Antioch, the Glory to the Father, And the Son, And the Holy
Ghost, 147 was triumphantly chanted by a full chorus
of voices; and the Catholics insulted, by the purity of their doctrine,
the Arian prelate, who had usurped the throne of the venerable Eustathius.
The same zeal which inspired their songs prompted the more scrupulous
members of the orthodox party to form separate assemblies, which were
governed by the presbyters, till the death of their exiled bishop allowed
the election and consecration of a new episcopal pastor. 148
The revolutions of the court multiplied the number of pretenders; and the
same city was often disputed, under the reign of Constantius, by two, or
three, or even four, bishops, who exercised their spiritual jurisdiction
over their respective followers, and alternately lost and regained the
temporal possessions of the church. The abuse of Christianity introduced
into the Roman government new causes of tyranny and sedition; the bands of
civil society were torn asunder by the fury of religious factions; and the
obscure citizen, who might calmly have surveyed the elevation and fall of
successive emperors, imagined and experienced, that his own life and
fortune were connected with the interests of a popular ecclesiastic. The
example of the two capitals, Rome and Constantinople, may serve to
represent the state of the empire, and the temper of mankind, under the
reign of the sons of Constantine.
I. The Roman pontiff, as long as he maintained his station and his
principles, was guarded by the warm attachment of a great people; and
could reject with scorn the prayers, the menaces, and the oblations of an
heretical prince. When the eunuchs had secretly pronounced the exile of
Liberius, the well-grounded apprehension of a tumult engaged them to use
the utmost precautions in the execution of the sentence. The capital was
invested on every side, and the præfect was commanded to seize the person
of the bishop, either by stratagem or by open force. The order was obeyed,
and Liberius, with the greatest difficulty, at the hour of midnight, was
swiftly conveyed beyond the reach of the Roman people, before their
consternation was turned into rage. As soon as they were informed of his
banishment into Thrace, a general assembly was convened, and the clergy of
Rome bound themselves, by a public and solemn oath, never to desert their
bishop, never to acknowledge the usurper Fælix; who, by the influence of
the eunuchs, had been irregularly chosen and consecrated within the walls
of a profane palace. At the end of two years, their pious obstinacy
subsisted entire and unshaken; and when Constantius visited Rome, he was
assailed by the importunate solicitations of a people, who had preserved,
as the last remnant of their ancient freedom, the right of treating their
sovereign with familiar insolence. The wives of many of the senators and
most honorable citizens, after pressing their husbands to intercede in
favor of Liberius, were advised to undertake a commission, which in their
hands would be less dangerous, and might prove more successful. The
emperor received with politeness these female deputies, whose wealth and
dignity were displayed in the magnificence of their dress and ornaments:
he admired their inflexible resolution of following their beloved pastor
to the most distant regions of the earth; and consented that the two
bishops, Liberius and Fælix, should govern in peace their respective
congregations. But the ideas of toleration were so repugnant to the
practice, and even to the sentiments, of those times, that when the answer
of Constantius was publicly read in the Circus of Rome, so reasonable a
project of accommodation was rejected with contempt and ridicule. The
eager vehemence which animated the spectators in the decisive moment of a
horse-race, was now directed towards a different object; and the Circus
resounded with the shout of thousands, who repeatedly exclaimed, “One God,
One Christ, One Bishop!” The zeal of the Roman people in the cause of
Liberius was not confined to words alone; and the dangerous and bloody
sedition which they excited soon after the departure of Constantius
determined that prince to accept the submission of the exiled prelate, and
to restore him to the undivided dominion of the capital. After some
ineffectual resistance, his rival was expelled from the city by the
permission of the emperor and the power of the opposite faction; the
adherents of Fælix were inhumanly murdered in the streets, in the public
places, in the baths, and even in the churches; and the face of Rome, upon
the return of a Christian bishop, renewed the horrid image of the
massacres of Marius, and the proscriptions of Sylla. 149
II. Notwithstanding the rapid increase of Christians under the reign of
the Flavian family, Rome, Alexandria, and the other great cities of the
empire, still contained a strong and powerful faction of Infidels, who
envied the prosperity, and who ridiculed, even in their theatres, the
theological disputes of the church. Constantinople alone enjoyed the
advantage of being born and educated in the bosom of the faith. The
capital of the East had never been polluted by the worship of idols; and
the whole body of the people had deeply imbibed the opinions, the virtues,
and the passions, which distinguished the Christians of that age from the
rest of mankind. After the death of Alexander, the episcopal throne was
disputed by Paul and Macedonius. By their zeal and abilities they both
deserved the eminent station to which they aspired; and if the moral
character of Macedonius was less exceptionable, his competitor had the
advantage of a prior election and a more orthodox doctrine. His firm
attachment to the Nicene creed, which has given Paul a place in the
calendar among saints and martyrs, exposed him to the resentment of the
Arians. In the space of fourteen years he was five times driven from his
throne; to which he was more frequently restored by the violence of the
people, than by the permission of the prince; and the power of Macedonius
could be secured only by the death of his rival. The unfortunate Paul was
dragged in chains from the sandy deserts of Mesopotamia to the most
desolate places of Mount Taurus, 150 confined in a dark
and narrow dungeon, left six days without food, and at length strangled,
by the order of Philip, one of the principal ministers of the emperor
Constantius. 151 The first blood which stained the new
capital was spilt in this ecclesiastical contest; and many persons were
slain on both sides, in the furious and obstinate seditions of the people.
The commission of enforcing a sentence of banishment against Paul had been
intrusted to Hermogenes, the master-general of the cavalry; but the
execution of it was fatal to himself. The Catholics rose in the defence of
their bishop; the palace of Hermogenes was consumed; the first military
officer of the empire was dragged by the heels through the streets of
Constantinople, and, after he expired, his lifeless corpse was exposed to
their wanton insults. 152 The fate of Hermogenes instructed Philip,
the Prætorian præfect, to act with more precaution on a similar
occasion. In the most gentle and honorable terms, he required the
attendance of Paul in the baths of Xeuxippus, which had a private
communication with the palace and the sea. A vessel, which lay ready at
the garden stairs, immediately hoisted sail; and, while the people were
still ignorant of the meditated sacrilege, their bishop was already
embarked on his voyage to Thessalonica. They soon beheld, with surprise
and indignation, the gates of the palace thrown open, and the usurper
Macedonius seated by the side of the præfect on a lofty chariot, which
was surrounded by troops of guards with drawn swords. The military
procession advanced towards the cathedral; the Arians and the Catholics
eagerly rushed to occupy that important post; and three thousand one
hundred and fifty persons lost their lives in the confusion of the tumult.
Macedonius, who was supported by a regular force, obtained a decisive
victory; but his reign was disturbed by clamor and sedition; and the
causes which appeared the least connected with the subject of dispute,
were sufficient to nourish and to kindle the flame of civil discord. As
the chapel in which the body of the great Constantine had been deposited
was in a ruinous condition, the bishop transported those venerable remains
into the church of St. Acacius. This prudent and even pious measure was
represented as a wicked profanation by the whole party which adhered to
the Homoousian doctrine. The factions immediately flew to arms, the
consecrated ground was used as their field of battle; and one of the
ecclesiastical historians has observed, as a real fact, not as a figure of
rhetoric, that the well before the church overflowed with a stream of
blood, which filled the porticos and the adjacent courts. The writer who
should impute these tumults solely to a religious principle, would betray
a very imperfect knowledge of human nature; yet it must be confessed that
the motive which misled the sincerity of zeal, and the pretence which
disguised the licentiousness of passion, suppressed the remorse which, in
another cause, would have succeeded to the rage of the Christians at
Constantinople. 153
Chapter XXI: Persecution Of Heresy, State Of The Church.—Part VII.
The cruel and arbitrary disposition of Constantius, which did not always
require the provocations of guilt and resistance, was justly exasperated
by the tumults of his capital, and the criminal behavior of a faction,
which opposed the authority and religion of their sovereign. The ordinary
punishments of death, exile, and confiscation, were inflicted with partial
vigor; and the Greeks still revere the holy memory of two clerks, a
reader, and a sub-deacon, who were accused of the murder of Hermogenes,
and beheaded at the gates of Constantinople. By an edict of Constantius
against the Catholics which has not been judged worthy of a place in the
Theodosian code, those who refused to communicate with the Arian bishops,
and particularly with Macedonius, were deprived of the immunities of
ecclesiastics, and of the rights of Christians; they were compelled to
relinquish the possession of the churches; and were strictly prohibited
from holding their assemblies within the walls of the city. The execution
of this unjust law, in the provinces of Thrace and Asia Minor, was
committed to the zeal of Macedonius; the civil and military powers were
directed to obey his commands; and the cruelties exercised by this Semi-
Arian tyrant in the support of the Homoiousion, exceeded the commission,
and disgraced the reign, of Constantius. The sacraments of the church were
administered to the reluctant victims, who denied the vocation, and
abhorred the principles, of Macedonius. The rites of baptism were
conferred on women and children, who, for that purpose, had been torn from
the arms of their friends and parents; the mouths of the communicants were
held open by a wooden engine, while the consecrated bread was forced down
their throat; the breasts of tender virgins were either burnt with red-hot
egg-shells, or inhumanly compressed betweens harp and heavy boards. 154
The Novatians of Constantinople and the adjacent country, by their firm
attachment to the Homoousian standard, deserved to be confounded with the
Catholics themselves. Macedonius was informed, that a large district of
Paphlagonia 155 was almost entirely inhabited by those
sectaries. He resolved either to convert or to extirpate them; and as he
distrusted, on this occasion, the efficacy of an ecclesiastical mission,
he commanded a body of four thousand legionaries to march against the
rebels, and to reduce the territory of Mantinium under his spiritual
dominion. The Novatian peasants, animated by despair and religious fury,
boldly encountered the invaders of their country; and though many of the
Paphlagonians were slain, the Roman legions were vanquished by an
irregular multitude, armed only with scythes and axes; and, except a few
who escaped by an ignominious flight, four thousand soldiers were left
dead on the field of battle. The successor of Constantius has expressed,
in a concise but lively manner, some of the theological calamities which
afflicted the empire, and more especially the East, in the reign of a
prince who was the slave of his own passions, and of those of his eunuchs:
“Many were imprisoned, and persecuted, and driven into exile. Whole troops
of those who are styled heretics, were massacred, particularly at Cyzicus,
and at Samosata. In Paphlagonia, Bithynia, Galatia, and in many other
provinces, towns and villages were laid waste, and utterly destroyed.” 156
While the flames of the Arian controversy consumed the vitals of the
empire, the African provinces were infested by their peculiar enemies, the
savage fanatics, who, under the name of Circumcellions, formed the
strength and scandal of the Donatist party. 157 The severe
execution of the laws of Constantine had excited a spirit of discontent
and resistance, the strenuous efforts of his son Constans, to restore the
unity of the church, exasperated the sentiments of mutual hatred, which
had first occasioned the separation; and the methods of force and
corruption employed by the two Imperial commissioners, Paul and Macarius,
furnished the schismatics with a specious contrast between the maxims of
the apostles and the conduct of their pretended successors. 158
The peasants who inhabited the villages of Numidia and Mauritania, were a
ferocious race, who had been imperfectly reduced under the authority of
the Roman laws; who were imperfectly converted to the Christian faith; but
who were actuated by a blind and furious enthusiasm in the cause of their
Donatist teachers. They indignantly supported the exile of their bishops,
the demolition of their churches, and the interruption of their secret
assemblies. The violence of the officers of justice, who were usually
sustained by a military guard, was sometimes repelled with equal violence;
and the blood of some popular ecclesiastics, which had been shed in the
quarrel, inflamed their rude followers with an eager desire of revenging
the death of these holy martyrs. By their own cruelty and rashness, the
ministers of persecution sometimes provoked their fate; and the guilt of
an accidental tumult precipitated the criminals into despair and
rebellion. Driven from their native villages, the Donatist peasants
assembled in formidable gangs on the edge of the Getulian desert; and
readily exchanged the habits of labor for a life of idleness and rapine,
which was consecrated by the name of religion, and faintly condemned by
the doctors of the sect. The leaders of the Circumcellions assumed the
title of captains of the saints; their principal weapon, as they were
indifferently provided with swords and spears, was a huge and weighty
club, which they termed an Israelite; and the well-known sound of “Praise
be to God,” which they used as their cry of war, diffused consternation
over the unarmed provinces of Africa. At first their depredations were
colored by the plea of necessity; but they soon exceeded the measure of
subsistence, indulged without control their intemperance and avarice,
burnt the villages which they had pillaged, and reigned the licentious
tyrants of the open country. The occupations of husbandry, and the
administration of justice, were interrupted; and as the Circumcellions
pretended to restore the primitive equality of mankind, and to reform the
abuses of civil society, they opened a secure asylum for the slaves and
debtors, who flocked in crowds to their holy standard. When they were not
resisted, they usually contented themselves with plunder, but the
slightest opposition provoked them to acts of violence and murder; and
some Catholic priests, who had imprudently signalized their zeal, were
tortured by the fanatics with the most refined and wanton barbarity. The
spirit of the Circumcellions was not always exerted against their
defenceless enemies; they engaged, and sometimes defeated, the troops of
the province; and in the bloody action of Bagai, they attacked in the open
field, but with unsuccessful valor, an advanced guard of the Imperial
cavalry. The Donatists who were taken in arms, received, and they soon
deserved, the same treatment which might have been shown to the wild
beasts of the desert. The captives died, without a murmur, either by the
sword, the axe, or the fire; and the measures of retaliation were
multiplied in a rapid proportion, which aggravated the horrors of
rebellion, and excluded the hope of mutual forgiveness. In the beginning
of the present century, the example of the Circumcellions has been renewed
in the persecution, the boldness, the crimes, and the enthusiasm of the
Camisards; and if the fanatics of Languedoc surpassed those of Numidia, by
their military achievements, the Africans maintained their fierce
independence with more resolution and perseverance. 159
Such disorders are the natural effects of religious tyranny, but the rage
of the Donatists was inflamed by a frenzy of a very extraordinary kind;
and which, if it really prevailed among them in so extravagant a degree,
cannot surely be paralleled in any country or in any age. Many of these
fanatics were possessed with the horror of life, and the desire of
martyrdom; and they deemed it of little moment by what means, or by what
hands, they perished, if their conduct was sanctified by the intention of
devoting themselves to the glory of the true faith, and the hope of
eternal happiness. 160 Sometimes they rudely disturbed the
festivals, and profaned the temples of Paganism, with the design of
exciting the most zealous of the idolaters to revenge the insulted honor
of their gods. They sometimes forced their way into the courts of justice,
and compelled the affrighted judge to give orders for their immediate
execution. They frequently stopped travellers on the public highways, and
obliged them to inflict the stroke of martyrdom, by the promise of a
reward, if they consented, and by the threat of instant death, if they
refused to grant so very singular a favor. When they were disappointed of
every other resource, they announced the day on which, in the presence of
their friends and brethren, they should cast themselves headlong from some
lofty rock; and many precipices were shown, which had acquired fame by the
number of religious suicides. In the actions of these desperate
enthusiasts, who were admired by one party as the martyrs of God, and
abhorred by the other as the victims of Satan, an impartial philosopher
may discover the influence and the last abuse of that inflexible spirit
which was originally derived from the character and principles of the
Jewish nation.
The simple narrative of the intestine divisions, which distracted the
peace, and dishonored the triumph, of the church, will confirm the remark
of a Pagan historian, and justify the complaint of a venerable bishop. The
experience of Ammianus had convinced him, that the enmity of the
Christians towards each other, surpassed the fury of savage beasts against
man; 161 and Gregory Nazianzen most pathetically
laments, that the kingdom of heaven was converted, by discord, into the
image of chaos, of a nocturnal tempest, and of hell itself. 162
The fierce and partial writers of the times, ascribing all virtue to
themselves, and imputing all guilt to their adversaries, have painted the
battle of the angels and dæmons. Our calmer reason will reject such pure
and perfect monsters of vice or sanctity, and will impute an equal, or at
least an indiscriminate, measure of good and evil to the hostile
sectaries, who assumed and bestowed the appellations of orthodox and
heretics. They had been educated in the same religion and the same civil
society. Their hopes and fears in the present, or in a future life, were
balanced in the same proportion. On either side, the error might be
innocent, the faith sincere, the practice meritorious or corrupt. Their
passions were excited by similar objects; and they might alternately abuse
the favor of the court, or of the people. The metaphysical opinions of the
Athanasians and the Arians could not influence their moral character; and
they were alike actuated by the intolerant spirit which has been extracted
from the pure and simple maxims of the gospel.
A modern writer, who, with a just confidence, has prefixed to his own
history the honorable epithets of political and philosophical, 163
accuses the timid prudence of Montesquieu, for neglecting to enumerate,
among the causes of the decline of the empire, a law of Constantine, by
which the exercise of the Pagan worship was absolutely suppressed, and a
considerable part of his subjects was left destitute of priests, of
temples, and of any public religion. The zeal of the philosophic historian
for the rights of mankind, has induced him to acquiesce in the ambiguous
testimony of those ecclesiastics, who have too lightly ascribed to their
favorite hero the merit of a general persecution. 164 Instead of
alleging this imaginary law, which would have blazed in the front of the
Imperial codes, we may safely appeal to the original epistle, which
Constantine addressed to the followers of the ancient religion; at a time
when he no longer disguised his conversion, nor dreaded the rivals of his
throne. He invites and exhorts, in the most pressing terms, the subjects
of the Roman empire to imitate the example of their master; but he
declares, that those who still refuse to open their eyes to the celestial
light, may freely enjoy their temples and their fancied gods. A report,
that the ceremonies of paganism were suppressed, is formally contradicted
by the emperor himself, who wisely assigns, as the principle of his
moderation, the invincible force of habit, of prejudice, and of
superstition. 165 Without violating the sanctity of his
promise, without alarming the fears of the Pagans, the artful monarch
advanced, by slow and cautious steps, to undermine the irregular and
decayed fabric of polytheism. The partial acts of severity which he
occasionally exercised, though they were secretly promoted by a Christian
zeal, were colored by the fairest pretences of justice and the public
good; and while Constantine designed to ruin the foundations, he seemed to
reform the abuses, of the ancient religion. After the example of the
wisest of his predecessors, he condemned, under the most rigorous
penalties, the occult and impious arts of divination; which excited the
vain hopes, and sometimes the criminal attempts, of those who were
discontented with their present condition. An ignominious silence was
imposed on the oracles, which had been publicly convicted of fraud and
falsehood; the effeminate priests of the Nile were abolished; and
Constantine discharged the duties of a Roman censor, when he gave orders
for the demolition of several temples of Phœnicia; in which every mode of
prostitution was devoutly practised in the face of day, and to the honor
of Venus. 166 The Imperial city of Constantinople was, in
some measure, raised at the expense, and was adorned with the spoils, of
the opulent temples of Greece and Asia; the sacred property was
confiscated; the statues of gods and heroes were transported, with rude
familiarity, among a people who considered them as objects, not of
adoration, but of curiosity; the gold and silver were restored to
circulation; and the magistrates, the bishops, and the eunuchs, improved
the fortunate occasion of gratifying, at once, their zeal, their avarice,
and their resentment. But these depredations were confined to a small part
of the Roman world; and the provinces had been long since accustomed to
endure the same sacrilegious rapine, from the tyranny of princes and
proconsuls, who could not be suspected of any design to subvert the
established religion. 167
The sons of Constantine trod in the footsteps of their father, with more
zeal, and with less discretion. The pretences of rapine and oppression
were insensibly multiplied; 168 every indulgence
was shown to the illegal behavior of the Christians; every doubt was
explained to the disadvantage of Paganism; and the demolition of the
temples was celebrated as one of the auspicious events of the reign of
Constans and Constantius. 169 The name of
Constantius is prefixed to a concise law, which might have superseded the
necessity of any future prohibitions. “It is our pleasure, that in all
places, and in all cities, the temples be immediately shut, and carefully
guarded, that none may have the power of offending. It is likewise our
pleasure, that all our subjects should abstain from sacrifices. If any one
should be guilty of such an act, let him feel the sword of vengeance, and
after his execution, let his property be confiscated to the public use. We
denounce the same penalties against the governors of the provinces, if
they neglect to punish the criminals.” 170 But there is the
strongest reason to believe, that this formidable edict was either
composed without being published, or was published without being executed.
The evidence of facts, and the monuments which are still extant of brass
and marble, continue to prove the public exercise of the Pagan worship
during the whole reign of the sons of Constantine. In the East, as well as
in the West, in cities, as well as in the country, a great number of
temples were respected, or at least were spared; and the devout multitude
still enjoyed the luxury of sacrifices, of festivals, and of processions,
by the permission, or by the connivance, of the civil government. About
four years after the supposed date of this bloody edict, Constantius
visited the temples of Rome; and the decency of his behavior is
recommended by a pagan orator as an example worthy of the imitation of
succeeding princes. “That emperor,” says Symmachus, “suffered the
privileges of the vestal virgins to remain inviolate; he bestowed the
sacerdotal dignities on the nobles of Rome, granted the customary
allowance to defray the expenses of the public rites and sacrifices; and,
though he had embraced a different religion, he never attempted to deprive
the empire of the sacred worship of antiquity.” 171 The senate still
presumed to consecrate, by solemn decrees, the divine memory of their
sovereigns; and Constantine himself was associated, after his death, to
those gods whom he had renounced and insulted during his life. The title,
the ensigns, the prerogatives, of sovereign pontiff, which had been
instituted by Numa, and assumed by Augustus, were accepted, without
hesitation, by seven Christian emperors; who were invested with a more
absolute authority over the religion which they had deserted, than over
that which they professed. 172
The divisions of Christianity suspended the ruin of Paganism; 173
and the holy war against the infidels was less vigorously prosecuted by
princes and bishops, who were more immediately alarmed by the guilt and
danger of domestic rebellion. The extirpation of idolatry 174
might have been justified by the established principles of intolerance:
but the hostile sects, which alternately reigned in the Imperial court
were mutually apprehensive of alienating, and perhaps exasperating, the
minds of a powerful, though declining faction. Every motive of authority
and fashion, of interest and reason, now militated on the side of
Christianity; but two or three generations elapsed, before their
victorious influence was universally felt. The religion which had so long
and so lately been established in the Roman empire was still revered by a
numerous people, less attached indeed to speculative opinion, than to
ancient custom. The honors of the state and army were indifferently
bestowed on all the subjects of Constantine and Constantius; and a
considerable portion of knowledge and wealth and valor was still engaged
in the service of polytheism. The superstition of the senator and of the
peasant, of the poet and the philosopher, was derived from very different
causes, but they met with equal devotion in the temples of the gods. Their
zeal was insensibly provoked by the insulting triumph of a proscribed
sect; and their hopes were revived by the well-grounded confidence, that
the presumptive heir of the empire, a young and valiant hero, who had
delivered Gaul from the arms of the Barbarians, had secretly embraced the
religion of his ancestors.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part I.
Julian Is Declared Emperor By The Legions Of Gaul.—His
March And Success.—The Death Of Constantius.—Civil
Administration Of Julian.
While the Romans languished under the ignominious tyranny of eunuchs and
bishops, the praises of Julian were repeated with transport in every part
of the empire, except in the palace of Constantius. The barbarians of
Germany had felt, and still dreaded, the arms of the young Cæsar; his
soldiers were the companions of his victory; the grateful provincials
enjoyed the blessings of his reign; but the favorites, who had opposed his
elevation, were offended by his virtues; and they justly considered the
friend of the people as the enemy of the court. As long as the fame of
Julian was doubtful, the buffoons of the palace, who were skilled in the
language of satire, tried the efficacy of those arts which they had so
often practised with success. They easily discovered, that his simplicity
was not exempt from affectation: the ridiculous epithets of a hairy
savage, of an ape invested with the purple, were applied to the dress and
person of the philosophic warrior; and his modest despatches were
stigmatized as the vain and elaborate fictions of a loquacious Greek, a
speculative soldier, who had studied the art of war amidst the groves of
the academy. 1 The voice of malicious folly was at length
silenced by the shouts of victory; the conqueror of the Franks and
Alemanni could no longer be painted as an object of contempt; and the
monarch himself was meanly ambitious of stealing from his lieutenant the
honorable reward of his labors. In the letters crowned with laurel, which,
according to ancient custom, were addressed to the provinces, the name of
Julian was omitted. “Constantius had made his dispositions in person; he
had signalized his valor in the foremost ranks; his military conduct had
secured the victory; and the captive king of the barbarians was presented
to him on the field of battle,” from which he was at that time distant
about forty days’ journey. 2 So extravagant a fable was incapable, however,
of deceiving the public credulity, or even of satisfying the pride of the
emperor himself. Secretly conscious that the applause and favor of the
Romans accompanied the rising fortunes of Julian, his discontented mind
was prepared to receive the subtle poison of those artful sycophants, who
colored their mischievous designs with the fairest appearances of truth
and candor. 3 Instead of depreciating the merits of Julian,
they acknowledged, and even exaggerated, his popular fame, superior
talents, and important services. But they darkly insinuated, that the
virtues of the Cæsar might instantly be converted into the most dangerous
crimes, if the inconstant multitude should prefer their inclinations to
their duty; or if the general of a victorious army should be tempted from
his allegiance by the hopes of revenge and independent greatness. The
personal fears of Constantius were interpreted by his council as a
laudable anxiety for the public safety; whilst in private, and perhaps in
his own breast, he disguised, under the less odious appellation of fear,
the sentiments of hatred and envy, which he had secretly conceived for the
inimitable virtues of Julian.
The apparent tranquillity of Gaul, and the imminent danger of the eastern
provinces, offered a specious pretence for the design which was artfully
concerted by the Imperial ministers. They resolved to disarm the Cæsar;
to recall those faithful troops who guarded his person and dignity; and to
employ, in a distant war against the Persian monarch, the hardy veterans
who had vanquished, on the banks of the Rhine, the fiercest nations of
Germany. While Julian used the laborious hours of his winter quarters at
Paris in the administration of power, which, in his hands, was the
exercise of virtue, he was surprised by the hasty arrival of a tribune and
a notary, with positive orders, from the emperor, which they were directed
to execute, and he was commanded not to oppose. Constantius signified his
pleasure, that four entire legions, the Celtæ, and Petulants, the Heruli,
and the Batavians, should be separated from the standard of Julian, under
which they had acquired their fame and discipline; that in each of the
remaining bands three hundred of the bravest youths should be selected;
and that this numerous detachment, the strength of the Gallic army, should
instantly begin their march, and exert their utmost diligence to arrive,
before the opening of the campaign, on the frontiers of Persia. 4 The
Cæsar foresaw and lamented the consequences of this fatal mandate. Most
of the auxiliaries, who engaged their voluntary service, had stipulated,
that they should never be obliged to pass the Alps. The public faith of
Rome, and the personal honor of Julian, had been pledged for the
observance of this condition. Such an act of treachery and oppression
would destroy the confidence, and excite the resentment, of the
independent warriors of Germany, who considered truth as the noblest of
their virtues, and freedom as the most valuable of their possessions. The
legionaries, who enjoyed the title and privileges of Romans, were enlisted
for the general defence of the republic; but those mercenary troops heard
with cold indifference the antiquated names of the republic and of Rome.
Attached, either from birth or long habit, to the climate and manners of
Gaul, they loved and admired Julian; they despised, and perhaps hated, the
emperor; they dreaded the laborious march, the Persian arrows, and the
burning deserts of Asia. They claimed as their own the country which they
had saved; and excused their want of spirit, by pleading the sacred and
more immediate duty of protecting their families and friends.
The apprehensions of the Gauls were derived from the knowledge of the
impending and inevitable danger. As soon as the provinces were exhausted
of their military strength, the Germans would violate a treaty which had
been imposed on their fears; and notwithstanding the abilities and valor
of Julian, the general of a nominal army, to whom the public calamities
would be imputed, must find himself, after a vain resistance, either a
prisoner in the camp of the barbarians, or a criminal in the palace of
Constantius. If Julian complied with the orders which he had received, he
subscribed his own destruction, and that of a people who deserved his
affection. But a positive refusal was an act of rebellion, and a
declaration of war. The inexorable jealousy of the emperor, the
peremptory, and perhaps insidious, nature of his commands, left not any
room for a fair apology, or candid interpretation; and the dependent
station of the Cæsar scarcely allowed him to pause or to deliberate.
Solitude increased the perplexity of Julian; he could no longer apply to
the faithful counsels of Sallust, who had been removed from his office by
the judicious malice of the eunuchs: he could not even enforce his
representations by the concurrence of the ministers, who would have been
afraid or ashamed to approve the ruin of Gaul. The moment had been chosen,
when Lupicinus, 5 the general of the cavalry, was despatched into
Britain, to repulse the inroads of the Scots and Picts; and Florentius was
occupied at Vienna by the assessment of the tribute. The latter, a crafty
and corrupt statesman, declining to assume a responsible part on this
dangerous occasion, eluded the pressing and repeated invitations of
Julian, who represented to him, that in every important measure, the
presence of the præfect was indispensable in the council of the prince.
In the mean while the Cæsar was oppressed by the rude and importunate
solicitations of the Imperial messengers, who presumed to suggest, that if
he expected the return of his ministers, he would charge himself with the
guilt of the delay, and reserve for them the merit of the execution.
Unable to resist, unwilling to comply, Julian expressed, in the most
serious terms, his wish, and even his intention, of resigning the purple,
which he could not preserve with honor, but which he could not abdicate
with safety.
After a painful conflict, Julian was compelled to acknowledge, that
obedience was the virtue of the most eminent subject, and that the
sovereign alone was entitled to judge of the public welfare. He issued the
necessary orders for carrying into execution the commands of Constantius;
a part of the troops began their march for the Alps; and the detachments
from the several garrisons moved towards their respective places of
assembly. They advanced with difficulty through the trembling and
affrighted crowds of provincials, who attempted to excite their pity by
silent despair, or loud lamentations, while the wives of the soldiers,
holding their infants in their arms, accused the desertion of their
husbands, in the mixed language of grief, of tenderness, and of
indignation. This scene of general distress afflicted the humanity of the
Cæsar; he granted a sufficient number of post-wagons to transport the
wives and families of the soldiers, 6 endeavored to alleviate
the hardships which he was constrained to inflict, and increased, by the
most laudable arts, his own popularity, and the discontent of the exiled
troops. The grief of an armed multitude is soon converted into rage; their
licentious murmurs, which every hour were communicated from tent to tent
with more boldness and effect, prepared their minds for the most daring
acts of sedition; and by the connivance of their tribunes, a seasonable
libel was secretly dispersed, which painted in lively colors the disgrace
of the Cæsar, the oppression of the Gallic army, and the feeble vices of
the tyrant of Asia. The servants of Constantius were astonished and
alarmed by the progress of this dangerous spirit. They pressed the Cæsar
to hasten the departure of the troops; but they imprudently rejected the
honest and judicious advice of Julian; who proposed that they should not
march through Paris, and suggested the danger and temptation of a last
interview.
As soon as the approach of the troops was announced, the Cæsar went out
to meet them, and ascended his tribunal, which had been erected in a plain
before the gates of the city. After distinguishing the officers and
soldiers, who by their rank or merit deserved a peculiar attention, Julian
addressed himself in a studied oration to the surrounding multitude: he
celebrated their exploits with grateful applause; encouraged them to
accept, with alacrity, the honor of serving under the eye of a powerful
and liberal monarch; and admonished them, that the commands of Augustus
required an instant and cheerful obedience. The soldiers, who were
apprehensive of offending their general by an indecent clamor, or of
belying their sentiments by false and venal acclamations, maintained an
obstinate silence; and after a short pause, were dismissed to their
quarters. The principal officers were entertained by the Cæsar, who
professed, in the warmest language of friendship, his desire and his
inability to reward, according to their deserts, the brave companions of
his victories. They retired from the feast, full of grief and perplexity;
and lamented the hardship of their fate, which tore them from their
beloved general and their native country. The only expedient which could
prevent their separation was boldly agitated and approved; the popular
resentment was insensibly moulded into a regular conspiracy; their just
reasons of complaint were heightened by passion, and their passions were
inflamed by wine; as, on the eve of their departure, the troops were
indulged in licentious festivity. At the hour of midnight, the impetuous
multitude, with swords, and bows, and torches in their hands, rushed into
the suburbs; encompassed the palace; 7 and, careless of future
dangers, pronounced the fatal and irrevocable words, Julian Augustus! The
prince, whose anxious suspense was interrupted by their disorderly
acclamations, secured the doors against their intrusion; and as long as it
was in his power, secluded his person and dignity from the accidents of a
nocturnal tumult. At the dawn of day, the soldiers, whose zeal was
irritated by opposition, forcibly entered the palace, seized, with
respectful violence, the object of their choice, guarded Julian with drawn
swords through the streets of Paris, placed him on the tribunal, and with
repeated shouts saluted him as their emperor. Prudence, as well as
loyalty, inculcated the propriety of resisting their treasonable designs;
and of preparing, for his oppressed virtue, the excuse of violence.
Addressing himself by turns to the multitude and to individuals, he
sometimes implored their mercy, and sometimes expressed his indignation;
conjured them not to sully the fame of their immortal victories; and
ventured to promise, that if they would immediately return to their
allegiance, he would undertake to obtain from the emperor not only a free
and gracious pardon, but even the revocation of the orders which had
excited their resentment. But the soldiers, who were conscious of their
guilt, chose rather to depend on the gratitude of Julian, than on the
clemency of the emperor. Their zeal was insensibly turned into impatience,
and their impatience into rage. The inflexible Cæsar sustained, till the
third hour of the day, their prayers, their reproaches, and their menaces;
nor did he yield, till he had been repeatedly assured, that if he wished
to live, he must consent to reign. He was exalted on a shield in the
presence, and amidst the unanimous acclamations, of the troops; a rich
military collar, which was offered by chance, supplied the want of a
diadem; 8
the ceremony was concluded by the promise of a moderate donative; and the
new emperor, overwhelmed with real or affected grief retired into the most
secret recesses of his apartment. 10
Explicat aula sinus montemque amplectitur alis;
Multiplici latebra scelerum tersura ruborem.
.... pereuntis sæpe pudoris Celatura nefas,
Venerisque accommoda furtis.
The grief of Julian could proceed only from his innocence; out his
innocence must appear extremely doubtful 11 in the eyes of those
who have learned to suspect the motives and the professions of princes.
His lively and active mind was susceptible of the various impressions of
hope and fear, of gratitude and revenge, of duty and of ambition, of the
love of fame, and of the fear of reproach. But it is impossible for us to
calculate the respective weight and operation of these sentiments; or to
ascertain the principles of action which might escape the observation,
while they guided, or rather impelled, the steps of Julian himself. The
discontent of the troops was produced by the malice of his enemies; their
tumult was the natural effect of interest and of passion; and if Julian
had tried to conceal a deep design under the appearances of chance, he
must have employed the most consummate artifice without necessity, and
probably without success. He solemnly declares, in the presence of
Jupiter, of the Sun, of Mars, of Minerva, and of all the other deities,
that till the close of the evening which preceded his elevation, he was
utterly ignorant of the designs of the soldiers; 12 and it may seem
ungenerous to distrust the honor of a hero and the truth of a philosopher.
Yet the superstitious confidence that Constantius was the enemy, and that
he himself was the favorite, of the gods, might prompt him to desire, to
solicit, and even to hasten the auspicious moment of his reign, which was
predestined to restore the ancient religion of mankind. When Julian had
received the intelligence of the conspiracy, he resigned himself to a
short slumber; and afterwards related to his friends that he had seen the
genius of the empire waiting with some impatience at his door, pressing
for admittance, and reproaching his want of spirit and ambition. 13
Astonished and perplexed, he addressed his prayers to the great Jupiter,
who immediately signified, by a clear and manifest omen, that he should
submit to the will of heaven and of the army. The conduct which disclaims
the ordinary maxims of reason, excites our suspicion and eludes our
inquiry. Whenever the spirit of fanaticism, at once so credulous and so
crafty, has insinuated itself into a noble mind, it insensibly corrodes
the vital principles of virtue and veracity.
To moderate the zeal of his party, to protect the persons of his enemies,
14
to defeat and to despise the secret enterprises which were formed against
his life and dignity, were the cares which employed the first days of the
reign of the new emperor. Although he was firmly resolved to maintain the
station which he had assumed, he was still desirous of saving his country
from the calamities of civil war, of declining a contest with the superior
forces of Constantius, and of preserving his own character from the
reproach of perfidy and ingratitude. Adorned with the ensigns of military
and imperial pomp, Julian showed himself in the field of Mars to the
soldiers, who glowed with ardent enthusiasm in the cause of their pupil,
their leader, and their friend. He recapitulated their victories, lamented
their sufferings, applauded their resolution, animated their hopes, and
checked their impetuosity; nor did he dismiss the assembly, till he had
obtained a solemn promise from the troops, that if the emperor of the East
would subscribe an equitable treaty, they would renounce any views of
conquest, and satisfy themselves with the tranquil possession of the
Gallic provinces. On this foundation he composed, in his own name, and in
that of the army, a specious and moderate epistle, 15 which was delivered
to Pentadius, his master of the offices, and to his chamberlain Eutherius;
two ambassadors whom he appointed to receive the answer, and observe the
dispositions of Constantius. This epistle is inscribed with the modest
appellation of Cæsar; but Julian solicits in a peremptory, though
respectful, manner, the confirmation of the title of Augustus. He
acknowledges the irregularity of his own election, while he justifies, in
some measure, the resentment and violence of the troops which had extorted
his reluctant consent. He allows the supremacy of his brother Constantius;
and engages to send him an annual present of Spanish horses, to recruit
his army with a select number of barbarian youths, and to accept from his
choice a Prætorian præfect of approved discretion and fidelity. But he
reserves for himself the nomination of his other civil and military
officers, with the troops, the revenue, and the sovereignty of the
provinces beyond the Alps. He admonishes the emperor to consult the
dictates of justice; to distrust the arts of those venal flatterers, who
subsist only by the discord of princes; and to embrace the offer of a fair
and honorable treaty, equally advantageous to the republic and to the
house of Constantine. In this negotiation Julian claimed no more than he
already possessed. The delegated authority which he had long exercised
over the provinces of Gaul, Spain, and Britain, was still obeyed under a
name more independent and august. The soldiers and the people rejoiced in
a revolution which was not stained even with the blood of the guilty.
Florentius was a fugitive; Lupicinus a prisoner. The persons who were
disaffected to the new government were disarmed and secured; and the
vacant offices were distributed, according to the recommendation of merit,
by a prince who despised the intrigues of the palace, and the clamors of
the soldiers. 16
The negotiations of peace were accompanied and supported by the most
vigorous preparations for war. The army, which Julian held in readiness
for immediate action, was recruited and augmented by the disorders of the
times. The cruel persecutions of the faction of Magnentius had filled Gaul
with numerous bands of outlaws and robbers. They cheerfully accepted the
offer of a general pardon from a prince whom they could trust, submitted
to the restraints of military discipline, and retained only their
implacable hatred to the person and government of Constantius. 17
As soon as the season of the year permitted Julian to take the field, he
appeared at the head of his legions; threw a bridge over the Rhine in the
neighborhood of Cleves; and prepared to chastise the perfidy of the
Attuarii, a tribe of Franks, who presumed that they might ravage, with
impunity, the frontiers of a divided empire. The difficulty, as well as
glory, of this enterprise, consisted in a laborious march; and Julian had
conquered, as soon as he could penetrate into a country, which former
princes had considered as inaccessible. After he had given peace to the
Barbarians, the emperor carefully visited the fortifications along the
Qhine from Cleves to Basil; surveyed, with peculiar attention, the
territories which he had recovered from the hands of the Alemanni, passed
through Besançon, 18 which had severely suffered from their fury,
and fixed his headquarters at Vienna for the ensuing winter. The barrier
of Gaul was improved and strengthened with additional fortifications; and
Julian entertained some hopes that the Germans, whom he had so often
vanquished, might, in his absence, be restrained by the terror of his
name. Vadomair 19 was the only prince of the Alemanni whom he
esteemed or feared and while the subtle Barbarian affected to observe the
faith of treaties, the progress of his arms threatened the state with an
unseasonable and dangerous war. The policy of Julian condescended to
surprise the prince of the Alemanni by his own arts: and Vadomair, who, in
the character of a friend, had incautiously accepted an invitation from
the Roman governors, was seized in the midst of the entertainment, and
sent away prisoner into the heart of Spain. Before the Barbarians were
recovered from their amazement, the emperor appeared in arms on the banks
of the Rhine, and, once more crossing the river, renewed the deep
impressions of terror and respect which had been already made by four
preceding expeditions. 20
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part II.
The ambassadors of Julian had been instructed to execute, with the utmost
diligence, their important commission. But, in their passage through Italy
and Illyricum, they were detained by the tedious and affected delays of
the provincial governors; they were conducted by slow journeys from
Constantinople to Cæsarea in Cappadocia; and when at length they were
admitted to the presence of Constantius, they found that he had already
conceived, from the despatches of his own officers, the most unfavorable
opinion of the conduct of Julian, and of the Gallic army. The letters were
heard with impatience; the trembling messengers were dismissed with
indignation and contempt; and the looks, gestures, the furious language of
the monarch, expressed the disorder of his soul. The domestic connection,
which might have reconciled the brother and the husband of Helena, was
recently dissolved by the death of that princess, whose pregnancy had been
several times fruitless, and was at last fatal to herself. 21
The empress Eusebia had preserved, to the last moment of her life, the
warm, and even jealous, affection which she had conceived for Julian; and
her mild influence might have moderated the resentment of a prince, who,
since her death, was abandoned to his own passions, and to the arts of his
eunuchs. But the terror of a foreign invasion obliged him to suspend the
punishment of a private enemy: he continued his march towards the confines
of Persia, and thought it sufficient to signify the conditions which might
entitle Julian and his guilty followers to the clemency of their offended
sovereign. He required, that the presumptuous Cæsar should expressly
renounce the appellation and rank of Augustus, which he had accepted from
the rebels; that he should descend to his former station of a limited and
dependent minister; that he should vest the powers of the state and army
in the hands of those officers who were appointed by the Imperial court;
and that he should trust his safety to the assurances of pardon, which
were announced by Epictetus, a Gallic bishop, and one of the Arian
favorites of Constantius. Several months were ineffectually consumed in a
treaty which was negotiated at the distance of three thousand miles
between Paris and Antioch; and, as soon as Julian perceived that his
modest and respectful behavior served only to irritate the pride of an
implacable adversary, he boldly resolved to commit his life and fortune to
the chance of a civil war. He gave a public and military audience to the
quæstor Leonas: the haughty epistle of Constantius was read to the
attentive multitude; and Julian protested, with the most flattering
deference, that he was ready to resign the title of Augustus, if he could
obtain the consent of those whom he acknowledged as the authors of his
elevation. The faint proposal was impetuously silenced; and the
acclamations of “Julian Augustus, continue to reign, by the authority of
the army, of the people, of the republic which you have saved,” thundered
at once from every part of the field, and terrified the pale ambassador of
Constantius. A part of the letter was afterwards read, in which the
emperor arraigned the ingratitude of Julian, whom he had invested with the
honors of the purple; whom he had educated with so much care and
tenderness; whom he had preserved in his infancy, when he was left a
helpless orphan.
“An orphan!” interrupted Julian, who justified his cause by indulging his
passions: “does the assassin of my family reproach me that I was left an
orphan? He urges me to revenge those injuries which I have long studied to
forget.” The assembly was dismissed; and Leonas, who, with some
difficulty, had been protected from the popular fury, was sent back to his
master with an epistle, in which Julian expressed, in a strain of the most
vehement eloquence, the sentiments of contempt, of hatred, and of
resentment, which had been suppressed and imbittered by the dissimulation
of twenty years. After this message, which might be considered as a signal
of irreconcilable war, Julian, who, some weeks before, had celebrated the
Christian festival of the Epiphany, 22 made a public
declaration that he committed the care of his safety to the Immortal Gods;
and thus publicly renounced the religion as well as the friendship of
Constantius. 23
The situation of Julian required a vigorous and immediate resolution. He
had discovered, from intercepted letters, that his adversary, sacrificing
the interest of the state to that of the monarch, had again excited the
Barbarians to invade the provinces of the West. The position of two
magazines, one of them collected on the banks of the Lake of Constance,
the other formed at the foot of the Cottian Alps, seemed to indicate the
march of two armies; and the size of those magazines, each of which
consisted of six hundred thousand quarters of wheat, or rather flour, 24
was a threatening evidence of the strength and numbers of the enemy who
prepared to surround him. But the Imperial legions were still in their
distant quarters of Asia; the Danube was feebly guarded; and if Julian
could occupy, by a sudden incursion, the important provinces of Illyricum,
he might expect that a people of soldiers would resort to his standard,
and that the rich mines of gold and silver would contribute to the
expenses of the civil war. He proposed this bold enterprise to the
assembly of the soldiers; inspired them with a just confidence in their
general, and in themselves; and exhorted them to maintain their reputation
of being terrible to the enemy, moderate to their fellow-citizens, and
obedient to their officers. His spirited discourse was received with the
loudest acclamations, and the same troops which had taken up arms against
Constantius, when he summoned them to leave Gaul, now declared with
alacrity, that they would follow Julian to the farthest extremities of
Europe or Asia. The oath of fidelity was administered; and the soldiers,
clashing their shields, and pointing their drawn swords to their throats,
devoted themselves, with horrid imprecations, to the service of a leader
whom they celebrated as the deliverer of Gaul and the conqueror of the
Germans. 25 This solemn engagement, which seemed to be
dictated by affection rather than by duty, was singly opposed by
Nebridius, who had been admitted to the office of Prætorian præfect.
That faithful minister, alone and unassisted, asserted the rights of
Constantius, in the midst of an armed and angry multitude, to whose fury
he had almost fallen an honorable, but useless sacrifice. After losing one
of his hands by the stroke of a sword, he embraced the knees of the prince
whom he had offended. Julian covered the præfect with his Imperial
mantle, and, protecting him from the zeal of his followers, dismissed him
to his own house, with less respect than was perhaps due to the virtue of
an enemy. 26 The high office of Nebridius was bestowed on
Sallust; and the provinces of Gaul, which were now delivered from the
intolerable oppression of taxes, enjoyed the mild and equitable
administration of the friend of Julian, who was permitted to practise
those virtues which he had instilled into the mind of his pupil. 27
The hopes of Julian depended much less on the number of his troops, than
on the celerity of his motions. In the execution of a daring enterprise,
he availed himself of every precaution, as far as prudence could suggest;
and where prudence could no longer accompany his steps, he trusted the
event to valor and to fortune. In the neighborhood of Basil he assembled
and divided his army. 28 One body, which consisted of ten thousand
men, was directed under the command of Nevitta, general of the cavalry, to
advance through the midland parts of Rhætia and Noricum. A similar
division of troops, under the orders of Jovius and Jovinus, prepared to
follow the oblique course of the highways, through the Alps, and the
northern confines of Italy. The instructions to the generals were
conceived with energy and precision: to hasten their march in close and
compact columns, which, according to the disposition of the ground, might
readily be changed into any order of battle; to secure themselves against
the surprises of the night by strong posts and vigilant guards; to prevent
resistance by their unexpected arrival; to elude examination by their
sudden departure; to spread the opinion of their strength, and the terror
of his name; and to join their sovereign under the walls of Sirmium. For
himself Julian had reserved a more difficult and extraordinary part. He
selected three thousand brave and active volunteers, resolved, like their
leader, to cast behind them every hope of a retreat; at the head of this
faithful band, he fearlessly plunged into the recesses of the Marcian, or
Black Forest, which conceals the sources of the Danube; 29
and, for many days, the fate of Julian was unknown to the world. The
secrecy of his march, his diligence, and vigor, surmounted every obstacle;
he forced his way over mountains and morasses, occupied the bridges or
swam the rivers, pursued his direct course, 30 without reflecting
whether he traversed the territory of the Romans or of the Barbarians, and
at length emerged, between Ratisbon and Vienna, at the place where he
designed to embark his troops on the Danube. By a well-concerted
stratagem, he seized a fleet of light brigantines, 31 as it lay at anchor;
secured a apply of coarse provisions sufficient to satisfy the indelicate,
and voracious, appetite of a Gallic army; and boldly committed himself to
the stream of the Danube. The labors of the mariners, who plied their oars
with incessant diligence, and the steady continuance of a favorable wind,
carried his fleet above seven hundred miles in eleven days; 32
and he had already disembarked his troops at Bononia, 3211
only nineteen miles from Sirmium, before his enemies could receive any
certain intelligence that he had left the banks of the Rhine. In the
course of this long and rapid navigation, the mind of Julian was fixed on
the object of his enterprise; and though he accepted the deputations of
some cities, which hastened to claim the merit of an early submission, he
passed before the hostile stations, which were placed along the river,
without indulging the temptation of signalizing a useless and ill-timed
valor. The banks of the Danube were crowded on either side with
spectators, who gazed on the military pomp, anticipated the importance of
the event, and diffused through the adjacent country the fame of a young
hero, who advanced with more than mortal speed at the head of the
innumerable forces of the West. Lucilian, who, with the rank of general of
the cavalry, commanded the military powers of Illyricum, was alarmed and
perplexed by the doubtful reports, which he could neither reject nor
believe. He had taken some slow and irresolute measures for the purpose of
collecting his troops, when he was surprised by Dagalaiphus, an active
officer, whom Julian, as soon as he landed at Bononia, had pushed forwards
with some light infantry. The captive general, uncertain of his life or
death, was hastily thrown upon a horse, and conducted to the presence of
Julian; who kindly raised him from the ground, and dispelled the terror
and amazement which seemed to stupefy his faculties. But Lucilian had no
sooner recovered his spirits, than he betrayed his want of discretion, by
presuming to admonish his conqueror that he had rashly ventured, with a
handful of men, to expose his person in the midst of his enemies. “Reserve
for your master Constantius these timid remonstrances,” replied Julian,
with a smile of contempt: “when I gave you my purple to kiss, I received
you not as a counsellor, but as a suppliant.” Conscious that success alone
could justify his attempt, and that boldness only could command success,
he instantly advanced, at the head of three thousand soldiers, to attack
the strongest and most populous city of the Illyrian provinces. As he
entered the long suburb of Sirmium, he was received by the joyful
acclamations of the army and people; who, crowned with flowers, and
holding lighted tapers in their hands, conducted their acknowledged
sovereign to his Imperial residence. Two days were devoted to the public
joy, which was celebrated by the games of the circus; but, early on the
morning of the third day, Julian marched to occupy the narrow pass of
Succi, in the defiles of Mount Hæmus; which, almost in the midway between
Sirmium and Constantinople, separates the provinces of Thrace and Dacia,
by an abrupt descent towards the former, and a gentle declivity on the
side of the latter. 33 The defence of this important post was
intrusted to the brave Nevitta; who, as well as the generals of the
Italian division, successfully executed the plan of the march and junction
which their master had so ably conceived. 34
—So eagerly the fiend,
O’er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way,
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.]
The homage which Julian obtained, from the fears or the inclination of the
people, extended far beyond the immediate effect of his arms. 35
The præfectures of Italy and Illyricum were administered by Taurus and
Florentius, who united that important office with the vain honors of the
consulship; and as those magistrates had retired with precipitation to the
court of Asia, Julian, who could not always restrain the levity of his
temper, stigmatized their flight by adding, in all the Acts of the Year,
the epithet of fugitive to the names of the two consuls. The provinces
which had been deserted by their first magistrates acknowledged the
authority of an emperor, who, conciliating the qualities of a soldier with
those of a philosopher, was equally admired in the camps of the Danube and
in the cities of Greece. From his palace, or, more properly, from his
head-quarters of Sirmium and Naissus, he distributed to the principal
cities of the empire, a labored apology for his own conduct; published the
secret despatches of Constantius; and solicited the judgment of mankind
between two competitors, the one of whom had expelled, and the other had
invited, the Barbarians. 36 Julian, whose mind was deeply wounded by the
reproach of ingratitude, aspired to maintain, by argument as well as by
arms, the superior merits of his cause; and to excel, not only in the arts
of war, but in those of composition. His epistle to the senate and people
of Athens 37 seems to have been dictated by an elegant
enthusiasm; which prompted him to submit his actions and his motives to
the degenerate Athenians of his own times, with the same humble deference
as if he had been pleading, in the days of Aristides, before the tribunal
of the Areopagus. His application to the senate of Rome, which was still
permitted to bestow the titles of Imperial power, was agreeable to the
forms of the expiring republic. An assembly was summoned by Tertullus,
præfect of the city; the epistle of Julian was read; and, as he appeared
to be master of Italy his claims were admitted without a dissenting voice.
His oblique censure of the innovations of Constantine, and his passionate
invective against the vices of Constantius, were heard with less
satisfaction; and the senate, as if Julian had been present, unanimously
exclaimed, “Respect, we beseech you, the author of your own fortune.” 38
An artful expression, which, according to the chance of war, might be
differently explained; as a manly reproof of the ingratitude of the
usurper, or as a flattering confession, that a single act of such benefit
to the state ought to atone for all the failings of Constantius.
The intelligence of the march and rapid progress of Julian was speedily
transmitted to his rival, who, by the retreat of Sapor, had obtained some
respite from the Persian war. Disguising the anguish of his soul under the
semblance of contempt, Constantius professed his intention of returning
into Europe, and of giving chase to Julian; for he never spoke of his
military expedition in any other light than that of a hunting party. 39
In the camp of Hierapolis, in Syria, he communicated this design to his
army; slightly mentioned the guilt and rashness of the Cæsar; and
ventured to assure them, that if the mutineers of Gaul presumed to meet
them in the field, they would be unable to sustain the fire of their eyes,
and the irresistible weight of their shout of onset. The speech of the
emperor was received with military applause, and Theodotus, the president
of the council of Hierapolis, requested, with tears of adulation, that his
city might be adorned with the head of the vanquished rebel. 40
A chosen detachment was despatched away in post-wagons, to secure, if it
were yet possible, the pass of Succi; the recruits, the horses, the arms,
and the magazines, which had been prepared against Sapor, were
appropriated to the service of the civil war; and the domestic victories
of Constantius inspired his partisans with the most sanguine assurances of
success. The notary Gaudentius had occupied in his name the provinces of
Africa; the subsistence of Rome was intercepted; and the distress of
Julian was increased by an unexpected event, which might have been
productive of fatal consequences. Julian had received the submission of
two legions and a cohort of archers, who were stationed at Sirmium; but he
suspected, with reason, the fidelity of those troops which had been
distinguished by the emperor; and it was thought expedient, under the
pretence of the exposed state of the Gallic frontier, to dismiss them from
the most important scene of action. They advanced, with reluctance, as far
as the confines of Italy; but as they dreaded the length of the way, and
the savage fierceness of the Germans, they resolved, by the instigation of
one of their tribunes, to halt at Aquileia, and to erect the banners of
Constantius on the walls of that impregnable city. The vigilance of Julian
perceived at once the extent of the mischief, and the necessity of
applying an immediate remedy. By his order, Jovinus led back a part of the
army into Italy; and the siege of Aquileia was formed with diligence, and
prosecuted with vigor. But the legionaries, who seemed to have rejected
the yoke of discipline, conducted the defence of the place with skill and
perseverance; vited the rest of Italy to imitate the example of their
courage and loyalty; and threatened the retreat of Julian, if he should be
forced to yield to the superior numbers of the armies of the East. 41
But the humanity of Julian was preserved from the cruel alternative which
he pathetically laments, of destroying or of being himself destroyed: and
the seasonable death of Constantius delivered the Roman empire from the
calamities of civil war. The approach of winter could not detain the
monarch at Antioch; and his favorites durst not oppose his impatient
desire of revenge. A slight fever, which was perhaps occasioned by the
agitation of his spirits, was increased by the fatigues of the journey;
and Constantius was obliged to halt at the little town of Mopsucrene,
twelve miles beyond Tarsus, where he expired, after a short illness, in
the forty-fifth year of his age, and the twenty-fourth of his reign. 42
His genuine character, which was composed of pride and weakness, of
superstition and cruelty, has been fully displayed in the preceding
narrative of civil and ecclesiastical events. The long abuse of power
rendered him a considerable object in the eyes of his contemporaries; but
as personal merit can alone deserve the notice of posterity, the last of
the sons of Constantine may be dismissed from the world, with the remark,
that he inherited the defects, without the abilities, of his father.
Before Constantius expired, he is said to have named Julian for his
successor; nor does it seem improbable, that his anxious concern for the
fate of a young and tender wife, whom he left with child, may have
prevailed, in his last moments, over the harsher passions of hatred and
revenge. Eusebius, and his guilty associates, made a faint attempt to
prolong the reign of the eunuchs, by the election of another emperor; but
their intrigues were rejected with disdain, by an army which now abhorred
the thought of civil discord; and two officers of rank were instantly
despatched, to assure Julian, that every sword in the empire would be
drawn for his service. The military designs of that prince, who had formed
three different attacks against Thrace, were prevented by this fortunate
event. Without shedding the blood of his fellow-citizens, he escaped the
dangers of a doubtful conflict, and acquired the advantages of a complete
victory. Impatient to visit the place of his birth, and the new capital of
the empire, he advanced from Naissus through the mountains of Hæmus, and
the cities of Thrace. When he reached Heraclea, at the distance of sixty
miles, all Constantinople was poured forth to receive him; and he made his
triumphal entry amidst the dutiful acclamations of the soldiers, the
people, and the senate. An innumerable multitude pressed around him with
eager respect and were perhaps disappointed when they beheld the small
stature and simple garb of a hero, whose unexperienced youth had
vanquished the Barbarians of Germany, and who had now traversed, in a
successful career, the whole continent of Europe, from the shores of the
Atlantic to those of the Bosphorus. 43 A few days
afterwards, when the remains of the deceased emperor were landed in the
harbor, the subjects of Julian applauded the real or affected humanity of
their sovereign. On foot, without his diadem, and clothed in a mourning
habit, he accompanied the funeral as far as the church of the Holy
Apostles, where the body was deposited: and if these marks of respect may
be interpreted as a selfish tribute to the birth and dignity of his
Imperial kinsman, the tears of Julian professed to the world that he had
forgot the injuries, and remembered only the obligations, which he had
received from Constantius. 44 As soon as the legions of Aquileia were
assured of the death of the emperor, they opened the gates of the city,
and, by the sacrifice of their guilty leaders, obtained an easy pardon
from the prudence or lenity of Julian; who, in the thirty-second year of
his age, acquired the undisputed possession of the Roman empire. 45
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part III.
Philosophy had instructed Julian to compare the advantages of action and
retirement; but the elevation of his birth, and the accidents of his life,
never allowed him the freedom of choice. He might perhaps sincerely have
preferred the groves of the academy, and the society of Athens; but he was
constrained, at first by the will, and afterwards by the injustice, of
Constantius, to expose his person and fame to the dangers of Imperial
greatness; and to make himself accountable to the world, and to posterity,
for the happiness of millions. 46 Julian recollected
with terror the observation of his master Plato, 47 that the government
of our flocks and herds is always committed to beings of a superior
species; and that the conduct of nations requires and deserves the
celestial powers of the gods or of the genii. From this principle he
justly concluded, that the man who presumes to reign, should aspire to the
perfection of the divine nature; that he should purify his soul from her
mortal and terrestrial part; that he should extinguish his appetites,
enlighten his understanding, regulate his passions, and subdue the wild
beast, which, according to the lively metaphor of Aristotle, 48
seldom fails to ascend the throne of a despot. The throne of Julian, which
the death of Constantius fixed on an independent basis, was the seat of
reason, of virtue, and perhaps of vanity. He despised the honors,
renounced the pleasures, and discharged with incessant diligence the
duties, of his exalted station; and there were few among his subjects who
would have consented to relieve him from the weight of the diadem, had
they been obliged to submit their time and their actions to the rigorous
laws which that philosophic emperor imposed on himself. One of his most
intimate friends, 49 who had often shared the frugal simplicity of
his table, has remarked, that his light and sparing diet (which was
usually of the vegetable kind) left his mind and body always free and
active, for the various and important business of an author, a pontiff, a
magistrate, a general, and a prince. In one and the same day, he gave
audience to several ambassadors, and wrote, or dictated, a great number of
letters to his generals, his civil magistrates, his private friends, and
the different cities of his dominions. He listened to the memorials which
had been received, considered the subject of the petitions, and signified
his intentions more rapidly than they could be taken in short-hand by the
diligence of his secretaries. He possessed such flexibility of thought,
and such firmness of attention, that he could employ his hand to write,
his ear to listen, and his voice to dictate; and pursue at once three
several trains of ideas without hesitation, and without error. While his
ministers reposed, the prince flew with agility from one labor to another,
and, after a hasty dinner, retired into his library, till the public
business, which he had appointed for the evening, summoned him to
interrupt the prosecution of his studies. The supper of the emperor was
still less substantial than the former meal; his sleep was never clouded
by the fumes of indigestion; and except in the short interval of a
marriage, which was the effect of policy rather than love, the chaste
Julian never shared his bed with a female companion. 50
He was soon awakened by the entrance of fresh secretaries, who had slept
the preceding day; and his servants were obliged to wait alternately while
their indefatigable master allowed himself scarcely any other refreshment
than the change of occupation. The predecessors of Julian, his uncle, his
brother, and his cousin, indulged their puerile taste for the games of the
Circus, under the specious pretence of complying with the inclinations of
the people; and they frequently remained the greatest part of the day as
idle spectators, and as a part of the splendid spectacle, till the
ordinary round of twenty-four races 51 was completely
finished. On solemn festivals, Julian, who felt and professed an
unfashionable dislike to these frivolous amusements, condescended to
appear in the Circus; and after bestowing a careless glance at five or six
of the races, he hastily withdrew with the impatience of a philosopher,
who considered every moment as lost that was not devoted to the advantage
of the public or the improvement of his own mind. 52 By this avarice of
time, he seemed to protract the short duration of his reign; and if the
dates were less securely ascertained, we should refuse to believe, that
only sixteen months elapsed between the death of Constantius and the
departure of his successor for the Persian war. The actions of Julian can
only be preserved by the care of the historian; but the portion of his
voluminous writings, which is still extant, remains as a monument of the
application, as well as of the genius, of the emperor. The Misopogon, the
Cæsars, several of his orations, and his elaborate work against the
Christian religion, were composed in the long nights of the two winters,
the former of which he passed at Constantinople, and the latter at
Antioch.
Centum quadrijugos agitabo ad flumina currus.
It appears, that they ran five or seven times round the Meta (Sueton. in
Domitian. c. 4;) and (from the measure of the Circus Maximus at Rome, the
Hippodrome at Constantinople, &c.) it might be about a four mile
course.]
The reformation of the Imperial court was one of the first and most
necessary acts of the government of Julian. 53 Soon after his
entrance into the palace of Constantinople, he had occasion for the
service of a barber. An officer, magnificently dressed, immediately
presented himself. “It is a barber,” exclaimed the prince, with affected
surprise, “that I want, and not a receiver-general of the finances.” 54
He questioned the man concerning the profits of his employment and was
informed, that besides a large salary, and some valuable perquisites, he
enjoyed a daily allowance for twenty servants, and as many horses. A
thousand barbers, a thousand cup-bearers, a thousand cooks, were
distributed in the several offices of luxury; and the number of eunuchs
could be compared only with the insects of a summer’s day. The monarch who
resigned to his subjects the superiority of merit and virtue, was
distinguished by the oppressive magnificence of his dress, his table, his
buildings, and his train. The stately palaces erected by Constantine and
his sons, were decorated with many colored marbles, and ornaments of massy
gold. The most exquisite dainties were procured, to gratify their pride,
rather than their taste; birds of the most distant climates, fish from the
most remote seas, fruits out of their natural season, winter roses, and
summer snows. 56 The domestic crowd of the palace surpassed
the expense of the legions; yet the smallest part of this costly multitude
was subservient to the use, or even to the splendor, of the throne. The
monarch was disgraced, and the people was injured, by the creation and
sale of an infinite number of obscure, and even titular employments; and
the most worthless of mankind might purchase the privilege of being
maintained, without the necessity of labor, from the public revenue. The
waste of an enormous household, the increase of fees and perquisites,
which were soon claimed as a lawful debt, and the bribes which they
extorted from those who feared their enmity, or solicited their favor,
suddenly enriched these haughty menials. They abused their fortune,
without considering their past, or their future, condition; and their
rapine and venality could be equalled only by the extravagance of their
dissipations. Their silken robes were embroidered with gold, their tables
were served with delicacy and profusion; the houses which they built for
their own use, would have covered the farm of an ancient consul; and the
most honorable citizens were obliged to dismount from their horses, and
respectfully to salute a eunuch whom they met on the public highway. The
luxury of the palace excited the contempt and indignation of Julian, who
usually slept on the ground, who yielded with reluctance to the
indispensable calls of nature; and who placed his vanity, not in
emulating, but in despising, the pomp of royalty.
By the total extirpation of a mischief which was magnified even beyond its
real extent, he was impatient to relieve the distress, and to appease the
murmurs of the people; who support with less uneasiness the weight of
taxes, if they are convinced that the fruits of their industry are
appropriated to the service of the state. But in the execution of this
salutary work, Julian is accused of proceeding with too much haste and
inconsiderate severity. By a single edict, he reduced the palace of
Constantinople to an immense desert, and dismissed with ignominy the whole
train of slaves and dependants, 57 without providing any
just, or at least benevolent, exceptions, for the age, the services, or
the poverty, of the faithful domestics of the Imperial family. Such indeed
was the temper of Julian, who seldom recollected the fundamental maxim of
Aristotle, that true virtue is placed at an equal distance between the
opposite vices.
The splendid and effeminate dress of the Asiatics, the curls and paint,
the collars and bracelets, which had appeared so ridiculous in the person
of Constantine, were consistently rejected by his philosophic successor.
But with the fopperies, Julian affected to renounce the decencies of
dress; and seemed to value himself for his neglect of the laws of
cleanliness. In a satirical performance, which was designed for the public
eye, the emperor descants with pleasure, and even with pride, on the
length of his nails, and the inky blackness of his hands; protests, that
although the greatest part of his body was covered with hair, the use of
the razor was confined to his head alone; and celebrates, with visible
complacency, the shaggy and populous 58 beard, which he
fondly cherished, after the example of the philosophers of Greece. Had
Julian consulted the simple dictates of reason, the first magistrate of
the Romans would have scorned the affectation of Diogenes, as well as that
of Darius.
But the work of public reformation would have remained imperfect, if
Julian had only corrected the abuses, without punishing the crimes, of his
predecessor’s reign. “We are now delivered,” says he, in a familiar letter
to one of his intimate friends, “we are now surprisingly delivered from
the voracious jaws of the Hydra. 59 I do not mean to
apply the epithet to my brother Constantius. He is no more; may the earth
lie light on his head! But his artful and cruel favorites studied to
deceive and exasperate a prince, whose natural mildness cannot be praised
without some efforts of adulation. It is not, however, my intention, that
even those men should be oppressed: they are accused, and they shall enjoy
the benefit of a fair and impartial trial.” To conduct this inquiry,
Julian named six judges of the highest rank in the state and army; and as
he wished to escape the reproach of condemning his personal enemies, he
fixed this extraordinary tribunal at Chalcedon, on the Asiatic side of the
Bosphorus; and transferred to the commissioners an absolute power to
pronounce and execute their final sentence, without delay, and without
appeal. The office of president was exercised by the venerable præfect of
the East, a second Sallust, 60 whose virtues
conciliated the esteem of Greek sophists, and of Christian bishops. He was
assisted by the eloquent Mamertinus, 61 one of the consuls
elect, whose merit is loudly celebrated by the doubtful evidence of his
own applause. But the civil wisdom of two magistrates was overbalanced by
the ferocious violence of four generals, Nevitta, Agilo, Jovinus, and
Arbetio. Arbetio, whom the public would have seen with less surprise at
the bar than on the bench, was supposed to possess the secret of the
commission; the armed and angry leaders of the Jovian and Herculian bands
encompassed the tribunal; and the judges were alternately swayed by the
laws of justice, and by the clamors of faction. 62
The chamberlain Eusebius, who had so long abused the favor of Constantius,
expiated, by an ignominious death, the insolence, the corruption, and
cruelty of his servile reign. The executions of Paul and Apodemius (the
former of whom was burnt alive) were accepted as an inadequate atonement
by the widows and orphans of so many hundred Romans, whom those legal
tyrants had betrayed and murdered. But justice herself (if we may use the
pathetic expression of Ammianus) 63 appeared to weep over
the fate of Ursulus, the treasurer of the empire; and his blood accused
the ingratitude of Julian, whose distress had been seasonably relieved by
the intrepid liberality of that honest minister. The rage of the soldiers,
whom he had provoked by his indiscretion, was the cause and the excuse of
his death; and the emperor, deeply wounded by his own reproaches and those
of the public, offered some consolation to the family of Ursulus, by the
restitution of his confiscated fortunes. Before the end of the year in
which they had been adorned with the ensigns of the prefecture and
consulship, 64 Taurus and Florentius were reduced to implore
the clemency of the inexorable tribunal of Chalcedon. The former was
banished to Vercellæ in Italy, and a sentence of death was pronounced
against the latter. A wise prince should have rewarded the crime of
Taurus: the faithful minister, when he was no longer able to oppose the
progress of a rebel, had taken refuge in the court of his benefactor and
his lawful sovereign. But the guilt of Florentius justified the severity
of the judges; and his escape served to display the magnanimity of Julian,
who nobly checked the interested diligence of an informer, and refused to
learn what place concealed the wretched fugitive from his just resentment.
65
Some months after the tribunal of Chalcedon had been dissolved, the
prætorian vicegerent of Africa, the notary Gaudentius, and Artemius 66
duke of Egypt, were executed at Antioch. Artemius had reigned the cruel
and corrupt tyrant of a great province; Gaudentius had long practised the
arts of calumny against the innocent, the virtuous, and even the person of
Julian himself. Yet the circumstances of their trial and condemnation were
so unskillfully managed, that these wicked men obtained, in the public
opinion, the glory of suffering for the obstinate loyalty with which they
had supported the cause of Constantius. The rest of his servants were
protected by a general act of oblivion; and they were left to enjoy with
impunity the bribes which they had accepted, either to defend the
oppressed, or to oppress the friendless. This measure, which, on the
soundest principles of policy, may deserve our approbation, was executed
in a manner which seemed to degrade the majesty of the throne. Julian was
tormented by the importunities of a multitude, particularly of Egyptians,
who loudly redemanded the gifts which they had imprudently or illegally
bestowed; he foresaw the endless prosecution of vexatious suits; and he
engaged a promise, which ought always to have been sacred, that if they
would repair to Chalcedon, he would meet them in person, to hear and
determine their complaints. But as soon as they were landed, he issued an
absolute order, which prohibited the watermen from transporting any
Egyptian to Constantinople; and thus detained his disappointed clients on
the Asiatic shore till, their patience and money being utterly exhausted,
they were obliged to return with indignant murmurs to their native
country. 67
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.—Part IV.
The numerous army of spies, of agents, and informers enlisted by
Constantius to secure the repose of one man, and to interrupt that of
millions, was immediately disbanded by his generous successor. Julian was
slow in his suspicions, and gentle in his punishments; and his contempt of
treason was the result of judgment, of vanity, and of courage. Conscious
of superior merit, he was persuaded that few among his subjects would dare
to meet him in the field, to attempt his life, or even to seat themselves
on his vacant throne. The philosopher could excuse the hasty sallies of
discontent; and the hero could despise the ambitious projects which
surpassed the fortune or the abilities of the rash conspirators. A citizen
of Ancyra had prepared for his own use a purple garment; and this
indiscreet action, which, under the reign of Constantius, would have been
considered as a capital offence, 68 was reported to
Julian by the officious importunity of a private enemy. The monarch, after
making some inquiry into the rank and character of his rival, despatched
the informer with a present of a pair of purple slippers, to complete the
magnificence of his Imperial habit. A more dangerous conspiracy was formed
by ten of the domestic guards, who had resolved to assassinate Julian in
the field of exercise near Antioch. Their intemperance revealed their
guilt; and they were conducted in chains to the presence of their injured
sovereign, who, after a lively representation of the wickedness and folly
of their enterprise, instead of a death of torture, which they deserved
and expected, pronounced a sentence of exile against the two principal
offenders. The only instance in which Julian seemed to depart from his
accustomed clemency, was the execution of a rash youth, who, with a feeble
hand, had aspired to seize the reins of empire. But that youth was the son
of Marcellus, the general of cavalry, who, in the first campaign of the
Gallic war, had deserted the standard of the Cæsar and the republic.
Without appearing to indulge his personal resentment, Julian might easily
confound the crime of the son and of the father; but he was reconciled by
the distress of Marcellus, and the liberality of the emperor endeavored to
heal the wound which had been inflicted by the hand of justice. 69
Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom. 70
From his studies he had imbibed the spirit of ancient sages and heroes;
his life and fortunes had depended on the caprice of a tyrant; and when he
ascended the throne, his pride was sometimes mortified by the reflection,
that the slaves who would not dare to censure his defects were not worthy
to applaud his virtues. 71 He sincerely abhorred the system of Oriental
despotism, which Diocletian, Constantine, and the patient habits of
fourscore years, had established in the empire. A motive of superstition
prevented the execution of the design, which Julian had frequently
meditated, of relieving his head from the weight of a costly diadem; 72
but he absolutely refused the title of Dominus, or Lord, 73
a word which was grown so familiar to the ears of the Romans, that they no
longer remembered its servile and humiliating origin. The office, or
rather the name, of consul, was cherished by a prince who contemplated
with reverence the ruins of the republic; and the same behavior which had
been assumed by the prudence of Augustus was adopted by Julian from choice
and inclination. On the calends of January, at break of day, the new
consuls, Mamertinus and Nevitta, hastened to the palace to salute the
emperor. As soon as he was informed of their approach, he leaped from his
throne, eagerly advanced to meet them, and compelled the blushing
magistrates to receive the demonstrations of his affected humility. From
the palace they proceeded to the senate. The emperor, on foot, marched
before their litters; and the gazing multitude admired the image of
ancient times, or secretly blamed a conduct, which, in their eyes,
degraded the majesty of the purple. 74 But the behavior of
Julian was uniformly supported. During the games of the Circus, he had,
imprudently or designedly, performed the manumission of a slave in the
presence of the consul. The moment he was reminded that he had trespassed
on the jurisdiction of another magistrate, he condemned himself to pay a
fine of ten pounds of gold; and embraced this public occasion of declaring
to the world, that he was subject, like the rest of his fellow-citizens,
to the laws, 75 and even to the forms, of the republic. The
spirit of his administration, and his regard for the place of his
nativity, induced Julian to confer on the senate of Constantinople the
same honors, privileges, and authority, which were still enjoyed by the
senate of ancient Rome. 76 A legal fiction was introduced, and gradually
established, that one half of the national council had migrated into the
East; and the despotic successors of Julian, accepting the title of
Senators, acknowledged themselves the members of a respectable body, which
was permitted to represent the majesty of the Roman name. From
Constantinople, the attention of the monarch was extended to the municipal
senates of the provinces. He abolished, by repeated edicts, the unjust and
pernicious exemptions which had withdrawn so many idle citizens from the
services of their country; and by imposing an equal distribution of public
duties, he restored the strength, the splendor, or, according to the
glowing expression of Libanius, 77 the soul of the
expiring cities of his empire. The venerable age of Greece excited the
most tender compassion in the mind of Julian, which kindled into rapture
when he recollected the gods, the heroes, and the men superior to heroes
and to gods, who have bequeathed to the latest posterity the monuments of
their genius, or the example of their virtues. He relieved the distress,
and restored the beauty, of the cities of Epirus and Peloponnesus. 78
Athens acknowledged him for her benefactor; Argos, for her deliverer. The
pride of Corinth, again rising from her ruins with the honors of a Roman
colony, exacted a tribute from the adjacent republics, for the purpose of
defraying the games of the Isthmus, which were celebrated in the
amphitheatre with the hunting of bears and panthers. From this tribute the
cities of Elis, of Delphi, and of Argos, which had inherited from their
remote ancestors the sacred office of perpetuating the Olympic, the
Pythian, and the Nemean games, claimed a just exemption. The immunity of
Elis and Delphi was respected by the Corinthians; but the poverty of Argos
tempted the insolence of oppression; and the feeble complaints of its
deputies were silenced by the decree of a provincial magistrate, who seems
to have consulted only the interest of the capital in which he resided.
Seven years after this sentence, Julian 79 allowed the cause to
be referred to a superior tribunal; and his eloquence was interposed, most
probably with success, in the defence of a city, which had been the royal
seat of Agamemnon, 80 and had given to Macedonia a race of kings
and conquerors. 81
The laborious administration of military and civil affairs, which were
multiplied in proportion to the extent of the empire, exercised the
abilities of Julian; but he frequently assumed the two characters of
Orator 82 and of Judge, 83 which are almost
unknown to the modern sovereigns of Europe. The arts of persuasion, so
diligently cultivated by the first Cæsars, were neglected by the military
ignorance and Asiatic pride of their successors; and if they condescended
to harangue the soldiers, whom they feared, they treated with silent
disdain the senators, whom they despised. The assemblies of the senate,
which Constantius had avoided, were considered by Julian as the place
where he could exhibit, with the most propriety, the maxims of a
republican, and the talents of a rhetorician. He alternately practised, as
in a school of declamation, the several modes of praise, of censure, of
exhortation; and his friend Libanius has remarked, that the study of Homer
taught him to imitate the simple, concise style of Menelaus, the
copiousness of Nestor, whose words descended like the flakes of a winter’s
snow, or the pathetic and forcible eloquence of Ulysses. The functions of
a judge, which are sometimes incompatible with those of a prince, were
exercised by Julian, not only as a duty, but as an amusement; and although
he might have trusted the integrity and discernment of his Prætorian
præfects, he often placed himself by their side on the seat of judgment.
The acute penetration of his mind was agreeably occupied in detecting and
defeating the chicanery of the advocates, who labored to disguise the
truths of facts, and to pervert the sense of the laws. He sometimes forgot
the gravity of his station, asked indiscreet or unseasonable questions,
and betrayed, by the loudness of his voice, and the agitation of his body,
the earnest vehemence with which he maintained his opinion against the
judges, the advocates, and their clients. But his knowledge of his own
temper prompted him to encourage, and even to solicit, the reproof of his
friends and ministers; and whenever they ventured to oppose the irregular
sallies of his passions, the spectators could observe the shame, as well
as the gratitude, of their monarch. The decrees of Julian were almost
always founded on the principles of justice; and he had the firmness to
resist the two most dangerous temptations, which assault the tribunal of a
sovereign, under the specious forms of compassion and equity. He decided
the merits of the cause without weighing the circumstances of the parties;
and the poor, whom he wished to relieve, were condemned to satisfy the
just demands of a wealthy and noble adversary. He carefully distinguished
the judge from the legislator; 84 and though he
meditated a necessary reformation of the Roman jurisprudence, he
pronounced sentence according to the strict and literal interpretation of
those laws, which the magistrates were bound to execute, and the subjects
to obey.
The generality of princes, if they were stripped of their purple, and cast
naked into the world, would immediately sink to the lowest rank of
society, without a hope of emerging from their obscurity. But the personal
merit of Julian was, in some measure, independent of his fortune. Whatever
had been his choice of life, by the force of intrepid courage, lively wit,
and intense application, he would have obtained, or at least he would have
deserved, the highest honors of his profession; and Julian might have
raised himself to the rank of minister, or general, of the state in which
he was born a private citizen. If the jealous caprice of power had
disappointed his expectations, if he had prudently declined the paths of
greatness, the employment of the same talents in studious solitude would
have placed beyond the reach of kings his present happiness and his
immortal fame. When we inspect, with minute, or perhaps malevolent
attention, the portrait of Julian, something seems wanting to the grace
and perfection of the whole figure. His genius was less powerful and
sublime than that of Cæsar; nor did he possess the consummate prudence of
Augustus. The virtues of Trajan appear more steady and natural, and the
philosophy of Marcus is more simple and consistent. Yet Julian sustained
adversity with firmness, and prosperity with moderation. After an interval
of one hundred and twenty years from the death of Alexander Severus, the
Romans beheld an emperor who made no distinction between his duties and
his pleasures; who labored to relieve the distress, and to revive the
spirit, of his subjects; and who endeavored always to connect authority
with merit, and happiness with virtue. Even faction, and religious
faction, was constrained to acknowledge the superiority of his genius, in
peace as well as in war, and to confess, with a sigh, that the apostate
Julian was a lover of his country, and that he deserved the empire of the
world. 85
... Ductor fortissimus armis;
Conditor et legum celeberrimus; ore manûque
Consultor patriæ; sed non consultor habendæ
Religionis; amans tercentum millia Divûm.
Pertidus ille Deo, sed non et perfidus orbi.
Prudent. Apotheosis, 450, &c.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part I.
The Religion Of Julian.—Universal Toleration.—He Attempts
To Restore And Reform The Pagan Worship—To Rebuild The
Temple Of Jerusalem—His Artful Persecution Of The
Christians.—Mutual Zeal And Injustice.
The character of Apostate has injured the reputation of Julian; and the
enthusiasm which clouded his virtues has exaggerated the real and apparent
magnitude of his faults. Our partial ignorance may represent him as a
philosophic monarch, who studied to protect, with an equal hand, the
religious factions of the empire; and to allay the theological fever which
had inflamed the minds of the people, from the edicts of Diocletian to the
exile of Athanasius. A more accurate view of the character and conduct of
Julian will remove this favorable prepossession for a prince who did not
escape the general contagion of the times. We enjoy the singular advantage
of comparing the pictures which have been delineated by his fondest
admirers and his implacable enemies. The actions of Julian are faithfully
related by a judicious and candid historian, the impartial spectator of
his life and death. The unanimous evidence of his contemporaries is
confirmed by the public and private declarations of the emperor himself;
and his various writings express the uniform tenor of his religious
sentiments, which policy would have prompted him to dissemble rather than
to affect. A devout and sincere attachment for the gods of Athens and Rome
constituted the ruling passion of Julian; 1 the powers of an
enlightened understanding were betrayed and corrupted by the influence of
superstitious prejudice; and the phantoms which existed only in the mind
of the emperor had a real and pernicious effect on the government of the
empire. The vehement zeal of the Christians, who despised the worship, and
overturned the altars of those fabulous deities, engaged their votary in a
state of irreconcilable hostility with a very numerous party of his
subjects; and he was sometimes tempted by the desire of victory, or the
shame of a repulse, to violate the laws of prudence, and even of justice.
The triumph of the party, which he deserted and opposed, has fixed a stain
of infamy on the name of Julian; and the unsuccessful apostate has been
overwhelmed with a torrent of pious invectives, of which the signal was
given by the sonorous trumpet 2 of Gregory Nazianzen. 3 The
interesting nature of the events which were crowded into the short reign
of this active emperor, deserve a just and circumstantial narrative. His
motives, his counsels, and his actions, as far as they are connected with
the history of religion, will be the subject of the present chapter.
The cause of his strange and fatal apostasy may be derived from the early
period of his life, when he was left an orphan in the hands of the
murderers of his family. The names of Christ and of Constantius, the ideas
of slavery and of religion, were soon associated in a youthful
imagination, which was susceptible of the most lively impressions. The
care of his infancy was intrusted to Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, 4 who
was related to him on the side of his mother; and till Julian reached the
twentieth year of his age, he received from his Christian preceptors the
education, not of a hero, but of a saint. The emperor, less jealous of a
heavenly than of an earthly crown, contented himself with the imperfect
character of a catechumen, while he bestowed the advantages of baptism 5 on
the nephews of Constantine. 6 They were even admitted to the inferior offices
of the ecclesiastical order; and Julian publicly read the Holy Scriptures
in the church of Nicomedia. The study of religion, which they assiduously
cultivated, appeared to produce the fairest fruits of faith and devotion.
7
They prayed, they fasted, they distributed alms to the poor, gifts to the
clergy, and oblations to the tombs of the martyrs; and the splendid
monument of St. Mamas, at Cæsarea, was erected, or at least was
undertaken, by the joint labor of Gallus and Julian. 8
They respectfully conversed with the bishops, who were eminent for
superior sanctity, and solicited the benediction of the monks and hermits,
who had introduced into Cappadocia the voluntary hardships of the ascetic
life. 9
As the two princes advanced towards the years of manhood, they discovered,
in their religious sentiments, the difference of their characters. The
dull and obstinate understanding of Gallus embraced, with implicit zeal,
the doctrines of Christianity; which never influenced his conduct, or
moderated his passions. The mild disposition of the younger brother was
less repugnant to the precepts of the gospel; and his active curiosity
might have been gratified by a theological system, which explains the
mysterious essence of the Deity, and opens the boundless prospect of
invisible and future worlds. But the independent spirit of Julian refused
to yield the passive and unresisting obedience which was required, in the
name of religion, by the haughty ministers of the church. Their
speculative opinions were imposed as positive laws, and guarded by the
terrors of eternal punishments; but while they prescribed the rigid
formulary of the thoughts, the words, and the actions of the young prince;
whilst they silenced his objections, and severely checked the freedom of
his inquiries, they secretly provoked his impatient genius to disclaim the
authority of his ecclesiastical guides. He was educated in the Lesser
Asia, amidst the scandals of the Arian controversy. 10
The fierce contests of the Eastern bishops, the incessant alterations of
their creeds, and the profane motives which appeared to actuate their
conduct, insensibly strengthened the prejudice of Julian, that they
neither understood nor believed the religion for which they so fiercely
contended. Instead of listening to the proofs of Christianity with that
favorable attention which adds weight to the most respectable evidence, he
heard with suspicion, and disputed with obstinacy and acuteness, the
doctrines for which he already entertained an invincible aversion.
Whenever the young princes were directed to compose declamations on the
subject of the prevailing controversies, Julian always declared himself
the advocate of Paganism; under the specious excuse that, in the defence
of the weaker cause, his learning and ingenuity might be more
advantageously exercised and displayed.
As soon as Gallus was invested with the honors of the purple, Julian was
permitted to breathe the air of freedom, of literature, and of Paganism.
11
The crowd of sophists, who were attracted by the taste and liberality of
their royal pupil, had formed a strict alliance between the learning and
the religion of Greece; and the poems of Homer, instead of being admired
as the original productions of human genius, were seriously ascribed to
the heavenly inspiration of Apollo and the muses. The deities of Olympus,
as they are painted by the immortal bard, imprint themselves on the minds
which are the least addicted to superstitious credulity. Our familiar
knowledge of their names and characters, their forms and attributes, seems
to bestow on those airy beings a real and substantial existence; and the
pleasing enchantment produces an imperfect and momentary assent of the
imagination to those fables, which are the most repugnant to our reason
and experience. In the age of Julian, every circumstance contributed to
prolong and fortify the illusion; the magnificent temples of Greece and
Asia; the works of those artists who had expressed, in painting or in
sculpture, the divine conceptions of the poet; the pomp of festivals and
sacrifices; the successful arts of divination; the popular traditions of
oracles and prodigies; and the ancient practice of two thousand years. The
weakness of polytheism was, in some measure, excused by the moderation of
its claims; and the devotion of the Pagans was not incompatible with the
most licentious scepticism. 12 Instead of an
indivisible and regular system, which occupies the whole extent of the
believing mind, the mythology of the Greeks was composed of a thousand
loose and flexible parts, and the servant of the gods was at liberty to
define the degree and measure of his religious faith. The creed which
Julian adopted for his own use was of the largest dimensions; and, by
strange contradiction, he disdained the salutary yoke of the gospel,
whilst he made a voluntary offering of his reason on the altars of Jupiter
and Apollo. One of the orations of Julian is consecrated to the honor of
Cybele, the mother of the gods, who required from her effeminate priests
the bloody sacrifice, so rashly performed by the madness of the Phrygian
boy. The pious emperor condescends to relate, without a blush, and without
a smile, the voyage of the goddess from the shores of Pergamus to the
mouth of the Tyber, and the stupendous miracle, which convinced the senate
and people of Rome that the lump of clay, which their ambassadors had
transported over the seas, was endowed with life, and sentiment, and
divine power. 13 For the truth of this prodigy he appeals to
the public monuments of the city; and censures, with some acrimony, the
sickly and affected taste of those men, who impertinently derided the
sacred traditions of their ancestors. 14
But the devout philosopher, who sincerely embraced, and warmly encouraged,
the superstition of the people, reserved for himself the privilege of a
liberal interpretation; and silently withdrew from the foot of the altars
into the sanctuary of the temple. The extravagance of the Grecian
mythology proclaimed, with a clear and audible voice, that the pious
inquirer, instead of being scandalized or satisfied with the literal
sense, should diligently explore the occult wisdom, which had been
disguised, by the prudence of antiquity, under the mask of folly and of
fable. 15 The philosophers of the Platonic school, 16
Plotinus, Porphyry, and the divine Iamblichus, were admired as the most
skilful masters of this allegorical science, which labored to soften and
harmonize the deformed features of Paganism. Julian himself, who was
directed in the mysterious pursuit by Ædesius, the venerable successor of
Iamblichus, aspired to the possession of a treasure, which he esteemed, if
we may credit his solemn asseverations, far above the empire of the world.
17
It was indeed a treasure, which derived its value only from opinion; and
every artist who flattered himself that he had extracted the precious ore
from the surrounding dross, claimed an equal right of stamping the name
and figure the most agreeable to his peculiar fancy. The fable of Atys and
Cybele had been already explained by Porphyry; but his labors served only
to animate the pious industry of Julian, who invented and published his
own allegory of that ancient and mystic tale. This freedom of
interpretation, which might gratify the pride of the Platonists, exposed
the vanity of their art. Without a tedious detail, the modern reader could
not form a just idea of the strange allusions, the forced etymologies, the
solemn trifling, and the impenetrable obscurity of these sages, who
professed to reveal the system of the universe. As the traditions of Pagan
mythology were variously related, the sacred interpreters were at liberty
to select the most convenient circumstances; and as they translated an
arbitrary cipher, they could extract from any fable any sense which was
adapted to their favorite system of religion and philosophy. The
lascivious form of a naked Venus was tortured into the discovery of some
moral precept, or some physical truth; and the castration of Atys
explained the revolution of the sun between the tropics, or the separation
of the human soul from vice and error. 18
The theological system of Julian appears to have contained the sublime and
important principles of natural religion. But as the faith, which is not
founded on revelation, must remain destitute of any firm assurance, the
disciple of Plato imprudently relapsed into the habits of vulgar
superstition; and the popular and philosophic notion of the Deity seems to
have been confounded in the practice, the writings, and even in the mind
of Julian. 19 The pious emperor acknowledged and adored the
Eternal Cause of the universe, to whom he ascribed all the perfections of
an infinite nature, invisible to the eyes and inaccessible to the
understanding, of feeble mortals. The Supreme God had created, or rather,
in the Platonic language, had generated, the gradual succession of
dependent spirits, of gods, of dæmons, of heroes, and of men; and every
being which derived its existence immediately from the First Cause,
received the inherent gift of immortality. That so precious an advantage
might not be lavished upon unworthy objects, the Creator had intrusted to the
skill and power of the inferior gods the office of forming the human body,
and of arranging the beautiful harmony of the animal, the vegetable, and
the mineral kingdoms. To the conduct of these divine ministers he
delegated the temporal government of this lower world; but their imperfect
administration is not exempt from discord or error. The earth and its
inhabitants are divided among them, and the characters of Mars or Minerva,
of Mercury or Venus, may be distinctly traced in the laws and manners of
their peculiar votaries. As long as our immortal souls are confined in a
mortal prison, it is our interest, as well as our duty, to solicit the
favor, and to deprecate the wrath, of the powers of heaven; whose pride is
gratified by the devotion of mankind; and whose grosser parts may be
supposed to derive some nourishment from the fumes of sacrifice. 20
The inferior gods might sometimes condescend to animate the statues, and
to inhabit the temples, which were dedicated to their honor. They might
occasionally visit the earth, but the heavens were the proper throne and
symbol of their glory. The invariable order of the sun, moon, and stars,
was hastily admitted by Julian, as a proof of their eternal duration; and
their eternity was a sufficient evidence that they were the workmanship,
not of an inferior deity, but of the Omnipotent King. In the system of
Platonists, the visible was a type of the invisible world. The celestial
bodies, as they were informed by a divine spirit, might be considered as
the objects the most worthy of religious worship. The Sun, whose genial
influence pervades and sustains the universe, justly claimed the adoration
of mankind, as the bright representative of the Logos, the lively, the
rational, the beneficent image of the intellectual Father. 21
In every age, the absence of genuine inspiration is supplied by the strong
illusions of enthusiasm, and the mimic arts of imposture. If, in the time
of Julian, these arts had been practised only by the pagan priests, for
the support of an expiring cause, some indulgence might perhaps be allowed
to the interest and habits of the sacerdotal character. But it may appear
a subject of surprise and scandal, that the philosophers themselves should
have contributed to abuse the superstitious credulity of mankind, 22
and that the Grecian mysteries should have been supported by the magic or
theurgy of the modern Platonists. They arrogantly pretended to control the
order of nature, to explore the secrets of futurity, to command the
service of the inferior dæmons, to enjoy the view and conversation of the
superior gods, and by disengaging the soul from her material bands, to
reunite that immortal particle with the Infinite and Divine Spirit.
The devout and fearless curiosity of Julian tempted the philosophers with
the hopes of an easy conquest; which, from the situation of their young
proselyte, might be productive of the most important consequences. 23
Julian imbibed the first rudiments of the Platonic doctrines from the
mouth of Ædesius, who had fixed at Pergamus his wandering and persecuted
school. But as the declining strength of that venerable sage was unequal
to the ardor, the diligence, the rapid conception of his pupil, two of his
most learned disciples, Chrysanthes and Eusebius, supplied, at his own
desire, the place of their aged master. These philosophers seem to have
prepared and distributed their respective parts; and they artfully
contrived, by dark hints and affected disputes, to excite the impatient
hopes of the aspirant, till they delivered him into the hands of their
associate, Maximus, the boldest and most skilful master of the Theurgic
science. By his hands, Julian was secretly initiated at Ephesus, in the
twentieth year of his age. His residence at Athens confirmed this
unnatural alliance of philosophy and superstition.
He obtained the privilege of a solemn initiation into the mysteries of
Eleusis, which, amidst the general decay of the Grecian worship, still
retained some vestiges of their primæval sanctity; and such was the zeal
of Julian, that he afterwards invited the Eleusinian pontiff to the court
of Gaul, for the sole purpose of consummating, by mystic rites and
sacrifices, the great work of his sanctification. As these ceremonies were
performed in the depth of caverns, and in the silence of the night, and as
the inviolable secret of the mysteries was preserved by the discretion of
the initiated, I shall not presume to describe the horrid sounds, and
fiery apparitions, which were presented to the senses, or the imagination,
of the credulous aspirant, 24 till the visions of comfort and knowledge
broke upon him in a blaze of celestial light. 25 In the caverns of
Ephesus and Eleusis, the mind of Julian was penetrated with sincere, deep,
and unalterable enthusiasm; though he might sometimes exhibit the
vicissitudes of pious fraud and hypocrisy, which may be observed, or at
least suspected, in the characters of the most conscientious fanatics.
From that moment he consecrated his life to the service of the gods; and
while the occupations of war, of government, and of study, seemed to claim
the whole measure of his time, a stated portion of the hours of the night
was invariably reserved for the exercise of private devotion. The
temperance which adorned the severe manners of the soldier and the
philosopher was connected with some strict and frivolous rules of
religious abstinence; and it was in honor of Pan or Mercury, of Hecate or
Isis, that Julian, on particular days, denied himself the use of some
particular food, which might have been offensive to his tutelar deities.
By these voluntary fasts, he prepared his senses and his understanding for
the frequent and familiar visits with which he was honored by the
celestial powers. Notwithstanding the modest silence of Julian himself, we
may learn from his faithful friend, the orator Libanius, that he lived in
a perpetual intercourse with the gods and goddesses; that they descended
upon earth to enjoy the conversation of their favorite hero; that they
gently interrupted his slumbers by touching his hand or his hair; that
they warned him of every impending danger, and conducted him, by their
infallible wisdom, in every action of his life; and that he had acquired
such an intimate knowledge of his heavenly guests, as readily to
distinguish the voice of Jupiter from that of Minerva, and the form of
Apollo from the figure of Hercules. 26 These sleeping or
waking visions, the ordinary effects of abstinence and fanaticism, would
almost degrade the emperor to the level of an Egyptian monk. But the
useless lives of Antony or Pachomius were consumed in these vain
occupations. Julian could break from the dream of superstition to arm
himself for battle; and after vanquishing in the field the enemies of
Rome, he calmly retired into his tent, to dictate the wise and salutary
laws of an empire, or to indulge his genius in the elegant pursuits of
literature and philosophy.
The important secret of the apostasy of Julian was intrusted to the
fidelity of the initiated, with whom he was united by the sacred ties of
friendship and religion. 27 The pleasing rumor was cautiously circulated
among the adherents of the ancient worship; and his future greatness
became the object of the hopes, the prayers, and the predictions of the
Pagans, in every province of the empire. From the zeal and virtues of
their royal proselyte, they fondly expected the cure of every evil, and
the restoration of every blessing; and instead of disapproving of the
ardor of their pious wishes, Julian ingenuously confessed, that he was
ambitious to attain a situation in which he might be useful to his country
and to his religion. But this religion was viewed with a hostile eye by
the successor of Constantine, whose capricious passions altercately saved
and threatened the life of Julian. The arts of magic and divination were
strictly prohibited under a despotic government, which condescended to
fear them; and if the Pagans were reluctantly indulged in the exercise of
their superstition, the rank of Julian would have excepted him from the
general toleration. The apostate soon became the presumptive heir of the
monarchy, and his death could alone have appeased the just apprehensions
of the Christians. 28 But the young prince, who aspired to the
glory of a hero rather than of a martyr, consulted his safety by
dissembling his religion; and the easy temper of polytheism permitted him
to join in the public worship of a sect which he inwardly despised.
Libanius has considered the hypocrisy of his friend as a subject, not of
censure, but of praise. “As the statues of the gods,” says that orator,
“which have been defiled with filth, are again placed in a magnificent
temple, so the beauty of truth was seated in the mind of Julian, after it
had been purified from the errors and follies of his education. His
sentiments were changed; but as it would have been dangerous to have
avowed his sentiments, his conduct still continued the same. Very
different from the ass in Æsop, who disguised himself with a lion’s hide,
our lion was obliged to conceal himself under the skin of an ass; and,
while he embraced the dictates of reason, to obey the laws of prudence and
necessity.” 29 The dissimulation of Julian lasted about ten
years, from his secret initiation at Ephesus to the beginning of the civil
war; when he declared himself at once the implacable enemy of Christ and
of Constantius. This state of constraint might contribute to strengthen
his devotion; and as soon as he had satisfied the obligation of assisting,
on solemn festivals, at the assemblies of the Christians, Julian returned,
with the impatience of a lover, to burn his free and voluntary incense on
the domestic chapels of Jupiter and Mercury. But as every act of
dissimulation must be painful to an ingenuous spirit, the profession of
Christianity increased the aversion of Julian for a religion which
oppressed the freedom of his mind, and compelled him to hold a conduct
repugnant to the noblest attributes of human nature, sincerity and
courage.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part II.
The inclination of Julian might prefer the gods of Homer, and of the
Scipios, to the new faith, which his uncle had established in the Roman
empire; and in which he himself had been sanctified by the sacrament of
baptism. But, as a philosopher, it was incumbent on him to justify his
dissent from Christianity, which was supported by the number of its
converts, by the chain of prophecy, the splendor of miracles, and the
weight of evidence. The elaborate work, 30 which he composed
amidst the preparations of the Persian war, contained the substance of
those arguments which he had long revolved in his mind. Some fragments
have been transcribed and preserved, by his adversary, the vehement Cyril
of Alexandria; 31 and they exhibit a very singular mixture of
wit and learning, of sophistry and fanaticism. The elegance of the style
and the rank of the author, recommended his writings to the public
attention; 32 and in the impious list of the enemies of
Christianity, the celebrated name of Porphyry was effaced by the superior
merit or reputation of Julian. The minds of the faithful were either
seduced, or scandalized, or alarmed; and the pagans, who sometimes
presumed to engage in the unequal dispute, derived, from the popular work
of their Imperial missionary, an inexhaustible supply of fallacious
objections. But in the assiduous prosecution of these theological studies,
the emperor of the Romans imbibed the illiberal prejudices and passions of
a polemic divine. He contracted an irrevocable obligation to maintain and
propagate his religious opinions; and whilst he secretly applauded the
strength and dexterity with which he wielded the weapons of controversy,
he was tempted to distrust the sincerity, or to despise the
understandings, of his antagonists, who could obstinately resist the force
of reason and eloquence.
The Christians, who beheld with horror and indignation the apostasy of
Julian, had much more to fear from his power than from his arguments. The
pagans, who were conscious of his fervent zeal, expected, perhaps with
impatience, that the flames of persecution should be immediately kindled
against the enemies of the gods; and that the ingenious malice of Julian
would invent some cruel refinements of death and torture which had been
unknown to the rude and inexperienced fury of his predecessors. But the
hopes, as well as the fears, of the religious factions were apparently
disappointed, by the prudent humanity of a prince, 33 who was careful of
his own fame, of the public peace, and of the rights of mankind.
Instructed by history and reflection, Julian was persuaded, that if the
diseases of the body may sometimes be cured by salutary violence, neither
steel nor fire can eradicate the erroneous opinions of the mind. The
reluctant victim may be dragged to the foot of the altar; but the heart
still abhors and disclaims the sacrilegious act of the hand. Religious
obstinacy is hardened and exasperated by oppression; and, as soon as the
persecution subsides, those who have yielded are restored as penitents,
and those who have resisted are honored as saints and martyrs. If Julian
adopted the unsuccessful cruelty of Diocletian and his colleagues, he was
sensible that he should stain his memory with the name of a tyrant, and
add new glories to the Catholic church, which had derived strength and
increase from the severity of the pagan magistrates. Actuated by these
motives, and apprehensive of disturbing the repose of an unsettled reign,
Julian surprised the world by an edict, which was not unworthy of a
statesman, or a philosopher. He extended to all the inhabitants of the
Roman world the benefits of a free and equal toleration; and the only
hardship which he inflicted on the Christians, was to deprive them of the
power of tormenting their fellow-subjects, whom they stigmatized with the
odious titles of idolaters and heretics. The pagans received a gracious
permission, or rather an express order, to open All their temples; 34
and they were at once delivered from the oppressive laws, and arbitrary
vexations, which they had sustained under the reign of Constantine, and of
his sons. At the same time the bishops and clergy, who had been banished
by the Arian monarch, were recalled from exile, and restored to their
respective churches; the Donatists, the Novatians, the Macedonians, the
Eunomians, and those who, with a more prosperous fortune, adhered to the
doctrine of the Council of Nice. Julian, who understood and derided their
theological disputes, invited to the palace the leaders of the hostile
sects, that he might enjoy the agreeable spectacle of their furious
encounters. The clamor of controversy sometimes provoked the emperor to
exclaim, “Hear me! the Franks have heard me, and the Alemanni;” but he
soon discovered that he was now engaged with more obstinate and implacable
enemies; and though he exerted the powers of oratory to persuade them to
live in concord, or at least in peace, he was perfectly satisfied, before
he dismissed them from his presence, that he had nothing to dread from the
union of the Christians. The impartial Ammianus has ascribed this affected
clemency to the desire of fomenting the intestine divisions of the church,
and the insidious design of undermining the foundations of Christianity,
was inseparably connected with the zeal which Julian professed, to restore
the ancient religion of the empire. 35
As soon as he ascended the throne, he assumed, according to the custom of
his predecessors, the character of supreme pontiff; not only as the most
honorable title of Imperial greatness, but as a sacred and important
office; the duties of which he was resolved to execute with pious
diligence. As the business of the state prevented the emperor from joining
every day in the public devotion of his subjects, he dedicated a domestic
chapel to his tutelar deity the Sun; his gardens were filled with statues
and altars of the gods; and each apartment of the palace displaced the
appearance of a magnificent temple. Every morning he saluted the parent of
light with a sacrifice; the blood of another victim was shed at the moment
when the Sun sunk below the horizon; and the Moon, the Stars, and the
Genii of the night received their respective and seasonable honors from
the indefatigable devotion of Julian. On solemn festivals, he regularly
visited the temple of the god or goddess to whom the day was peculiarly
consecrated, and endeavored to excite the religion of the magistrates and
people by the example of his own zeal. Instead of maintaining the lofty
state of a monarch, distinguished by the splendor of his purple, and
encompassed by the golden shields of his guards, Julian solicited, with
respectful eagerness, the meanest offices which contributed to the worship
of the gods. Amidst the sacred but licentious crowd of priests, of
inferior ministers, and of female dancers, who were dedicated to the
service of the temple, it was the business of the emperor to bring the
wood, to blow the fire, to handle the knife, to slaughter the victim, and,
thrusting his bloody hands into the bowels of the expiring animal, to draw
forth the heart or liver, and to read, with the consummate skill of an
haruspex, imaginary signs of future events. The wisest of the Pagans
censured this extravagant superstition, which affected to despise the
restraints of prudence and decency. Under the reign of a prince, who
practised the rigid maxims of economy, the expense of religious worship
consumed a very large portion of the revenue; a constant supply of the
scarcest and most beautiful birds was transported from distant climates,
to bleed on the altars of the gods; a hundred oxen were frequently
sacrificed by Julian on one and the same day; and it soon became a popular
jest, that if he should return with conquest from the Persian war, the
breed of horned cattle must infallibly be extinguished. Yet this expense
may appear inconsiderable, when it is compared with the splendid presents
which were offered either by the hand, or by order, of the emperor, to all
the celebrated places of devotion in the Roman world; and with the sums
allotted to repair and decorate the ancient temples, which had suffered
the silent decay of time, or the recent injuries of Christian rapine.
Encouraged by the example, the exhortations, the liberality, of their
pious sovereign, the cities and families resumed the practice of their
neglected ceremonies. “Every part of the world,” exclaims Libanius, with
devout transport, “displayed the triumph of religion; and the grateful
prospect of flaming altars, bleeding victims, the smoke of incense, and a
solemn train of priests and prophets, without fear and without danger. The
sound of prayer and of music was heard on the tops of the highest
mountains; and the same ox afforded a sacrifice for the gods, and a supper
for their joyous votaries.” 36
But the genius and power of Julian were unequal to the enterprise of
restoring a religion which was destitute of theological principles, of
moral precepts, and of ecclesiastical discipline; which rapidly hastened
to decay and dissolution, and was not susceptible of any solid or
consistent reformation. The jurisdiction of the supreme pontiff, more
especially after that office had been united with the Imperial dignity,
comprehended the whole extent of the Roman empire. Julian named for his
vicars, in the several provinces, the priests and philosophers whom he
esteemed the best qualified to cooperate in the execution of his great
design; and his pastoral letters, 37 if we may use that
name, still represent a very curious sketch of his wishes and intentions.
He directs, that in every city the sacerdotal order should be composed,
without any distinction of birth and fortune, of those persons who were
the most conspicuous for the love of the gods, and of men. “If they are
guilty,” continues he, “of any scandalous offence, they should be censured
or degraded by the superior pontiff; but as long as they retain their
rank, they are entitled to the respect of the magistrates and people.
Their humility may be shown in the plainness of their domestic garb; their
dignity, in the pomp of holy vestments. When they are summoned in their
turn to officiate before the altar, they ought not, during the appointed
number of days, to depart from the precincts of the temple; nor should a
single day be suffered to elapse, without the prayers and the sacrifice,
which they are obliged to offer for the prosperity of the state, and of
individuals. The exercise of their sacred functions requires an immaculate
purity, both of mind and body; and even when they are dismissed from the
temple to the occupations of common life, it is incumbent on them to excel
in decency and virtue the rest of their fellow-citizens. The priest of the
gods should never be seen in theatres or taverns. His conversation should
be chaste, his diet temperate, his friends of honorable reputation; and if
he sometimes visits the Forum or the Palace, he should appear only as the
advocate of those who have vainly solicited either justice or mercy. His
studies should be suited to the sanctity of his profession. Licentious
tales, or comedies, or satires, must be banished from his library, which
ought solely to consist of historical or philosophical writings; of
history, which is founded in truth, and of philosophy, which is connected
with religion. The impious opinions of the Epicureans and sceptics deserve
his abhorrence and contempt; 38 but he should
diligently study the systems of Pythagoras, of Plato, and of the Stoics,
which unanimously teach that there are gods; that the world is governed by
their providence; that their goodness is the source of every temporal
blessing; and that they have prepared for the human soul a future state of
reward or punishment.” The Imperial pontiff inculcates, in the most
persuasive language, the duties of benevolence and hospitality; exhorts
his inferior clergy to recommend the universal practice of those virtues;
promises to assist their indigence from the public treasury; and declares
his resolution of establishing hospitals in every city, where the poor
should be received without any invidious distinction of country or of
religion. Julian beheld with envy the wise and humane regulations of the
church; and he very frankly confesses his intention to deprive the
Christians of the applause, as well as advantage, which they had acquired
by the exclusive practice of charity and beneficence. 39
The same spirit of imitation might dispose the emperor to adopt several
ecclesiastical institutions, the use and importance of which were approved
by the success of his enemies. But if these imaginary plans of reformation
had been realized, the forced and imperfect copy would have been less
beneficial to Paganism, than honorable to Christianity. 40
The Gentiles, who peaceably followed the customs of their ancestors, were
rather surprised than pleased with the introduction of foreign manners;
and in the short period of his reign, Julian had frequent occasions to
complain of the want of fervor of his own party. 41
The enthusiasm of Julian prompted him to embrace the friends of Jupiter as
his personal friends and brethren; and though he partially overlooked the
merit of Christian constancy, he admired and rewarded the noble
perseverance of those Gentiles who had preferred the favor of the gods to
that of the emperor. 42 If they cultivated the literature, as well as
the religion, of the Greeks, they acquired an additional claim to the
friendship of Julian, who ranked the Muses in the number of his tutelar
deities. In the religion which he had adopted, piety and learning were
almost synonymous; 43 and a crowd of poets, of rhetoricians, and of
philosophers, hastened to the Imperial court, to occupy the vacant places
of the bishops, who had seduced the credulity of Constantius. His
successor esteemed the ties of common initiation as far more sacred than
those of consanguinity; he chose his favorites among the sages, who were
deeply skilled in the occult sciences of magic and divination; and every
impostor, who pretended to reveal the secrets of futurity, was assured of
enjoying the present hour in honor and affluence. 44 Among the
philosophers, Maximus obtained the most eminent rank in the friendship of
his royal disciple, who communicated, with unreserved confidence, his
actions, his sentiments, and his religious designs, during the anxious
suspense of the civil war. 45 As soon as Julian had taken possession of the
palace of Constantinople, he despatched an honorable and pressing
invitation to Maximus, who then resided at Sardes in Lydia, with
Chrysanthius, the associate of his art and studies. The prudent and
superstitious Chrysanthius refused to undertake a journey which showed
itself, according to the rules of divination, with the most threatening
and malignant aspect: but his companion, whose fanaticism was of a bolder
cast, persisted in his interrogations, till he had extorted from the gods
a seeming consent to his own wishes, and those of the emperor. The journey
of Maximus through the cities of Asia displayed the triumph of philosophic
vanity; and the magistrates vied with each other in the honorable
reception which they prepared for the friend of their sovereign. Julian
was pronouncing an oration before the senate, when he was informed of the
arrival of Maximus. The emperor immediately interrupted his discourse,
advanced to meet him, and after a tender embrace, conducted him by the
hand into the midst of the assembly; where he publicly acknowledged the
benefits which he had derived from the instructions of the philosopher.
Maximus, 46 who soon acquired the confidence, and
influenced the councils of Julian, was insensibly corrupted by the
temptations of a court. His dress became more splendid, his demeanor more
lofty, and he was exposed, under a succeeding reign, to a disgraceful
inquiry into the means by which the disciple of Plato had accumulated, in
the short duration of his favor, a very scandalous proportion of wealth.
Of the other philosophers and sophists, who were invited to the Imperial
residence by the choice of Julian, or by the success of Maximus, few were
able to preserve their innocence or their reputation. The liberal gifts of
money, lands, and houses, were insufficient to satiate their rapacious
avarice; and the indignation of the people was justly excited by the
remembrance of their abject poverty and disinterested professions. The
penetration of Julian could not always be deceived: but he was unwilling
to despise the characters of those men whose talents deserved his esteem:
he desired to escape the double reproach of imprudence and inconstancy;
and he was apprehensive of degrading, in the eyes of the profane, the
honor of letters and of religion. 47 48
The favor of Julian was almost equally divided between the Pagans, who had
firmly adhered to the worship of their ancestors, and the Christians, who
prudently embraced the religion of their sovereign. The acquisition of new
proselytes 49 gratified the ruling passions of his soul,
superstition and vanity; and he was heard to declare, with the enthusiasm
of a missionary, that if he could render each individual richer than
Midas, and every city greater than Babylon, he should not esteem himself
the benefactor of mankind, unless, at the same time, he could reclaim his
subjects from their impious revolt against the immortal gods. 50
A prince who had studied human nature, and who possessed the treasures of
the Roman empire, could adapt his arguments, his promises, and his
rewards, to every order of Christians; 51 and the merit of a
seasonable conversion was allowed to supply the defects of a candidate, or
even to expiate the guilt of a criminal. As the army is the most forcible
engine of absolute power, Julian applied himself, with peculiar diligence,
to corrupt the religion of his troops, without whose hearty concurrence
every measure must be dangerous and unsuccessful; and the natural temper
of soldiers made this conquest as easy as it was important. The legions of
Gaul devoted themselves to the faith, as well as to the fortunes, of their
victorious leader; and even before the death of Constantius, he had the
satisfaction of announcing to his friends, that they assisted with fervent
devotion, and voracious appetite, at the sacrifices, which were repeatedly
offered in his camp, of whole hecatombs of fat oxen. 52
The armies of the East, which had been trained under the standard of the
cross, and of Constantius, required a more artful and expensive mode of
persuasion. On the days of solemn and public festivals, the emperor
received the homage, and rewarded the merit, of the troops. His throne of
state was encircled with the military ensigns of Rome and the republic;
the holy name of Christ was erased from the Labarum; and the symbols of
war, of majesty, and of pagan superstition, were so dexterously blended,
that the faithful subject incurred the guilt of idolatry, when he
respectfully saluted the person or image of his sovereign. The soldiers
passed successively in review; and each of them, before he received from
the hand of Julian a liberal donative, proportioned to his rank and
services, was required to cast a few grains of incense into the flame
which burnt upon the altar. Some Christian confessors might resist, and
others might repent; but the far greater number, allured by the prospect
of gold, and awed by the presence of the emperor, contracted the criminal
engagement; and their future perseverance in the worship of the gods was
enforced by every consideration of duty and of interest.
By the frequent repetition of these arts, and at the expense of sums which
would have purchased the service of half the nations of Scythia, Julian
gradually acquired for his troops the imaginary protection of the gods,
and for himself the firm and effectual support of the Roman legions. 53
It is indeed more than probable, that the restoration and encouragement of
Paganism revealed a multitude of pretended Christians, who, from motives
of temporal advantage, had acquiesced in the religion of the former reign;
and who afterwards returned, with the same flexibility of conscience, to
the faith which was professed by the successors of Julian.
While the devout monarch incessantly labored to restore and propagate the
religion of his ancestors, he embraced the extraordinary design of
rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem. In a public epistle 54
to the nation or community of the Jews, dispersed through the provinces,
he pities their misfortunes, condemns their oppressors, praises their
constancy, declares himself their gracious protector, and expresses a
pious hope, that after his return from the Persian war, he may be
permitted to pay his grateful vows to the Almighty in his holy city of
Jerusalem. The blind superstition, and abject slavery, of those
unfortunate exiles, must excite the contempt of a philosophic emperor; but
they deserved the friendship of Julian, by their implacable hatred of the
Christian name. The barren synagogue abhorred and envied the fecundity of
the rebellious church; the power of the Jews was not equal to their
malice; but their gravest rabbis approved the private murder of an
apostate; 55 and their seditious clamors had often
awakened the indolence of the Pagan magistrates. Under the reign of
Constantine, the Jews became the subjects of their revolted children nor
was it long before they experienced the bitterness of domestic tyranny.
The civil immunities which had been granted, or confirmed, by Severus,
were gradually repealed by the Christian princes; and a rash tumult,
excited by the Jews of Palestine, 56 seemed to justify the
lucrative modes of oppression which were invented by the bishops and
eunuchs of the court of Constantius. The Jewish patriarch, who was still
permitted to exercise a precarious jurisdiction, held his residence at
Tiberias; 57 and the neighboring cities of Palestine were
filled with the remains of a people who fondly adhered to the promised
land. But the edict of Hadrian was renewed and enforced; and they viewed
from afar the walls of the holy city, which were profaned in their eyes by
the triumph of the cross and the devotion of the Christians. 58
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part III.
In the midst of a rocky and barren country, the walls of Jerusalem 59
enclosed the two mountains of Sion and Acra, within an oval figure of
about three English miles. 60 Towards the south, the upper town, and the
fortress of David, were erected on the lofty ascent of Mount Sion: on the
north side, the buildings of the lower town covered the spacious summit of
Mount Acra; and a part of the hill, distinguished by the name of Moriah,
and levelled by human industry, was crowned with the stately temple of the
Jewish nation. After the final destruction of the temple by the arms of
Titus and Hadrian, a ploughshare was drawn over the consecrated ground, as
a sign of perpetual interdiction. Sion was deserted; and the vacant space
of the lower city was filled with the public and private edifices of the
Ælian colony, which spread themselves over the adjacent hill of Calvary.
The holy places were polluted with mountains of idolatry; and, either from
design or accident, a chapel was dedicated to Venus, on the spot which had
been sanctified by the death and resurrection of Christ. 61
6111 Almost three hundred years after those
stupendous events, the profane chapel of Venus was demolished by the order
of Constantine; and the removal of the earth and stones revealed the holy
sepulchre to the eyes of mankind. A magnificent church was erected on that
mystic ground, by the first Christian emperor; and the effects of his
pious munificence were extended to every spot which had been consecrated
by the footstep of patriarchs, of prophets, and of the Son of God. 62
The passionate desire of contemplating the original monuments of their
redemption attracted to Jerusalem a successive crowd of pilgrims, from the
shores of the Atlantic Ocean, and the most distant countries of the East;
63
and their piety was authorized by the example of the empress Helena, who
appears to have united the credulity of age with the warm feelings of a
recent conversion. Sages and heroes, who have visited the memorable scenes
of ancient wisdom or glory, have confessed the inspiration of the genius
of the place; 64 and the Christian who knelt before the holy
sepulchre, ascribed his lively faith, and his fervent devotion, to the
more immediate influence of the Divine Spirit. The zeal, perhaps the
avarice, of the clergy of Jerusalem, cherished and multiplied these
beneficial visits. They fixed, by unquestionable tradition, the scene of
each memorable event. They exhibited the instruments which had been used
in the passion of Christ; the nails and the lance that had pierced his
hands, his feet, and his side; the crown of thorns that was planted on his
head; the pillar at which he was scourged; and, above all, they showed the
cross on which he suffered, and which was dug out of the earth in the
reign of those princes, who inserted the symbol of Christianity in the
banners of the Roman legions. 65 Such miracles as
seemed necessary to account for its extraordinary preservation, and
seasonable discovery, were gradually propagated without opposition. The
custody of the true cross, which on Easter Sunday was solemnly exposed to
the people, was intrusted to the bishop of Jerusalem; and he alone might
gratify the curious devotion of the pilgrims, by the gift of small pieces,
which they encased in gold or gems, and carried away in triumph to their
respective countries. But as this gainful branch of commerce must soon
have been annihilated, it was found convenient to suppose, that the
marvelous wood possessed a secret power of vegetation; and that its
substance, though continually diminished, still remained entire and
unimpaired. 66 It might perhaps have been expected, that the
influence of the place and the belief of a perpetual miracle, should have
produced some salutary effects on the morals, as well as on the faith, of
the people. Yet the most respectable of the ecclesiastical writers have
been obliged to confess, not only that the streets of Jerusalem were
filled with the incessant tumult of business and pleasure, 67
but that every species of vice—adultery, theft, idolatry, poisoning,
murder—was familiar to the inhabitants of the holy city. 68
The wealth and preëminence of the church of Jerusalem excited the ambition
of Arian, as well as orthodox, candidates; and the virtues of Cyril, who,
since his death, has been honored with the title of Saint, were displayed
in the exercise, rather than in the acquisition, of his episcopal dignity.
69
The vain and ambitious mind of Julian might aspire to restore the ancient
glory of the temple of Jerusalem. 70 As the Christians
were firmly persuaded that a sentence of everlasting destruction had been
pronounced against the whole fabric of the Mosaic law, the Imperial
sophist would have converted the success of his undertaking into a
specious argument against the faith of prophecy, and the truth of
revelation. 71 He was displeased with the spiritual worship
of the synagogue; but he approved the institutions of Moses, who had not
disdained to adopt many of the rites and ceremonies of Egypt. 72
The local and national deity of the Jews was sincerely adored by a
polytheist, who desired only to multiply the number of the gods; 73
and such was the appetite of Julian for bloody sacrifice, that his
emulation might be excited by the piety of Solomon, who had offered, at
the feast of the dedication, twenty-two thousand oxen, and one hundred and
twenty thousand sheep. 74 These considerations might influence his
designs; but the prospect of an immediate and important advantage would
not suffer the impatient monarch to expect the remote and uncertain event
of the Persian war. He resolved to erect, without delay, on the commanding
eminence of Moriah, a stately temple, which might eclipse the splendor of
the church of the resurrection on the adjacent hill of Calvary; to
establish an order of priests, whose interested zeal would detect the
arts, and resist the ambition, of their Christian rivals; and to invite a
numerous colony of Jews, whose stern fanaticism would be always prepared
to second, and even to anticipate, the hostile measures of the Pagan
government. Among the friends of the emperor (if the names of emperor, and
of friend, are not incompatible) the first place was assigned, by Julian
himself, to the virtuous and learned Alypius. 75 The humanity of
Alypius was tempered by severe justice and manly fortitude; and while he
exercised his abilities in the civil administration of Britain, he
imitated, in his poetical compositions, the harmony and softness of the
odes of Sappho. This minister, to whom Julian communicated, without
reserve, his most careless levities, and his most serious counsels,
received an extraordinary commission to restore, in its pristine beauty,
the temple of Jerusalem; and the diligence of Alypius required and
obtained the strenuous support of the governor of Palestine. At the call
of their great deliverer, the Jews, from all the provinces of the empire,
assembled on the holy mountain of their fathers; and their insolent
triumph alarmed and exasperated the Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem.
The desire of rebuilding the temple has in every age been the ruling
passion of the children of Israel. In this propitious moment the men
forgot their avarice, and the women their delicacy; spades and pickaxes of
silver were provided by the vanity of the rich, and the rubbish was
transported in mantles of silk and purple. Every purse was opened in
liberal contributions, every hand claimed a share in the pious labor, and
the commands of a great monarch were executed by the enthusiasm of a whole
people. 76
Yet, on this occasion, the joint efforts of power and enthusiasm were
unsuccessful; and the ground of the Jewish temple, which is now covered by
a Mahometan mosque, 77 still continued to exhibit the same edifying
spectacle of ruin and desolation. Perhaps the absence and death of the
emperor, and the new maxims of a Christian reign, might explain the
interruption of an arduous work, which was attempted only in the last six
months of the life of Julian. 78 But the Christians
entertained a natural and pious expectation, that, in this memorable
contest, the honor of religion would be vindicated by some signal miracle.
An earthquake, a whirlwind, and a fiery eruption, which overturned and
scattered the new foundations of the temple, are attested, with some
variations, by contemporary and respectable evidence. 79
This public event is described by Ambrose, 80 bishop of Milan, in
an epistle to the emperor Theodosius, which must provoke the severe
animadversion of the Jews; by the eloquent Chrysostom, 81
who might appeal to the memory of the elder part of his congregation at
Antioch; and by Gregory Nazianzen, 82 who published his
account of the miracle before the expiration of the same year. The last of
these writers has boldly declared, that this preternatural event was not
disputed by the infidels; and his assertion, strange as it may seem is
confirmed by the unexceptionable testimony of Ammianus Marcellinus. 83
The philosophic soldier, who loved the virtues, without adopting the
prejudices, of his master, has recorded, in his judicious and candid
history of his own times, the extraordinary obstacles which interrupted
the restoration of the temple of Jerusalem. “Whilst Alypius, assisted by
the governor of the province, urged, with vigor and diligence, the
execution of the work, horrible balls of fire breaking out near the
foundations, with frequent and reiterated attacks, rendered the place,
from time to time, inaccessible to the scorched and blasted workmen; and
the victorious element continuing in this manner obstinately and
resolutely bent, as it were, to drive them to a distance, the undertaking
was abandoned.” 8311 Such authority should satisfy a
believing, and must astonish an incredulous, mind. Yet a philosopher may
still require the original evidence of impartial and intelligent
spectators. At this important crisis, any singular accident of nature
would assume the appearance, and produce the effects of a real prodigy.
This glorious deliverance would be speedily improved and magnified by the
pious art of the clergy of Jerusalem, and the active credulity of the
Christian world and, at the distance of twenty years, a Roman historian,
careless of theological disputes, might adorn his work with the specious
and splendid miracle. 84
The silence of Jerom would lead to a suspicion that the same story which
was celebrated at a distance, might be despised on the spot. * Note:
Gibbon has forgotten Basnage, to whom Warburton replied.—M.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part IV.
The restoration of the Jewish temple was secretly connected with the ruin
of the Christian church. Julian still continued to maintain the freedom of
religious worship, without distinguishing whether this universal
toleration proceeded from his justice or his clemency. He affected to pity
the unhappy Christians, who were mistaken in the most important object of
their lives; but his pity was degraded by contempt, his contempt was
embittered by hatred; and the sentiments of Julian were expressed in a
style of sarcastic wit, which inflicts a deep and deadly wound, whenever
it issues from the mouth of a sovereign. As he was sensible that the
Christians gloried in the name of their Redeemer, he countenanced, and
perhaps enjoined, the use of the less honorable appellation of Galilæans.
85
He declared, that by the folly of the Galilæans, whom he describes as a
sect of fanatics, contemptible to men, and odious to the gods, the empire
had been reduced to the brink of destruction; and he insinuates in a
public edict, that a frantic patient might sometimes be cured by salutary
violence. 86 An ungenerous distinction was admitted into
the mind and counsels of Julian, that, according to the difference of
their religious sentiments, one part of his subjects deserved his favor
and friendship, while the other was entitled only to the common benefits
that his justice could not refuse to an obedient people. According to a
principle, pregnant with mischief and oppression, the emperor transferred
to the pontiffs of his own religion the management of the liberal
allowances from the public revenue, which had been granted to the church by
the piety of Constantine and his sons. The proud system of clerical honors
and immunities, which had been constructed with so much art and labor, was
levelled to the ground; the hopes of testamentary donations were
intercepted by the rigor of the laws; and the priests of the Christian
sect were confounded with the last and most ignominious class of the
people. Such of these regulations as appeared necessary to check the
ambition and avarice of the ecclesiastics, were soon afterwards imitated
by the wisdom of an orthodox prince. The peculiar distinctions which
policy has bestowed, or superstition has lavished, on the sacerdotal
order, must be confined to those priests who profess the religion of the
state. But the will of the legislator was not exempt from prejudice and
passion; and it was the object of the insidious policy of Julian, to
deprive the Christians of all the temporal honors and advantages which
rendered them respectable in the eyes of the world. 88
A just and severe censure has been inflicted on the law which prohibited
the Christians from teaching the arts of grammar and rhetoric. 89
The motives alleged by the emperor to justify this partial and oppressive
measure, might command, during his lifetime, the silence of slaves and the
applause of Gatterers. Julian abuses the ambiguous meaning of a word which
might be indifferently applied to the language and the religion of the
Greeks: he contemptuously observes, that the men who exalt the merit of
implicit faith are unfit to claim or to enjoy the advantages of science;
and he vainly contends, that if they refuse to adore the gods of Homer and
Demosthenes, they ought to content themselves with expounding Luke and
Matthew in the church of the Galilæans. 90 In all the cities of
the Roman world, the education of the youth was intrusted to masters of
grammar and rhetoric; who were elected by the magistrates, maintained at
the public expense, and distinguished by many lucrative and honorable
privileges. The edict of Julian appears to have included the physicians,
and professors of all the liberal arts; and the emperor, who reserved to
himself the approbation of the candidates, was authorized by the laws to
corrupt, or to punish, the religious constancy of the most learned of the
Christians. 91 As soon as the resignation of the more
obstinate 92 teachers had established the unrivalled
dominion of the Pagan sophists, Julian invited the rising generation to
resort with freedom to the public schools, in a just confidence, that
their tender minds would receive the impressions of literature and
idolatry. If the greatest part of the Christian youth should be deterred
by their own scruples, or by those of their parents, from accepting this
dangerous mode of instruction, they must, at the same time, relinquish the
benefits of a liberal education. Julian had reason to expect that, in the
space of a few years, the church would relapse into its primæval
simplicity, and that the theologians, who possessed an adequate share of
the learning and eloquence of the age, would be succeeded by a generation
of blind and ignorant fanatics, incapable of defending the truth of their
own principles, or of exposing the various follies of Polytheism. 93
It was undoubtedly the wish and design of Julian to deprive the Christians
of the advantages of wealth, of knowledge, and of power; but the injustice
of excluding them from all offices of trust and profit seems to have been
the result of his general policy, rather than the immediate consequence of
any positive law. 94 Superior merit might deserve and obtain, some
extraordinary exceptions; but the greater part of the Christian officers
were gradually removed from their employments in the state, the army, and
the provinces. The hopes of future candidates were extinguished by the
declared partiality of a prince, who maliciously reminded them, that it
was unlawful for a Christian to use the sword, either of justice, or of
war; and who studiously guarded the camp and the tribunals with the
ensigns of idolatry. The powers of government were intrusted to the
pagans, who professed an ardent zeal for the religion of their ancestors;
and as the choice of the emperor was often directed by the rules of
divination, the favorites whom he preferred as the most agreeable to the
gods, did not always obtain the approbation of mankind. 95
Under the administration of their enemies, the Christians had much to
suffer, and more to apprehend. The temper of Julian was averse to cruelty;
and the care of his reputation, which was exposed to the eyes of the
universe, restrained the philosophic monarch from violating the laws of
justice and toleration, which he himself had so recently established. But
the provincial ministers of his authority were placed in a less
conspicuous station. In the exercise of arbitrary power, they consulted
the wishes, rather than the commands, of their sovereign; and ventured to
exercise a secret and vexatious tyranny against the sectaries, on whom
they were not permitted to confer the honors of martyrdom. The emperor,
who dissembled as long as possible his knowledge of the injustice that was
exercised in his name, expressed his real sense of the conduct of his
officers, by gentle reproofs and substantial rewards. 96
The most effectual instrument of oppression, with which they were armed,
was the law that obliged the Christians to make full and ample
satisfaction for the temples which they had destroyed under the preceding
reign. The zeal of the triumphant church had not always expected the
sanction of the public authority; and the bishops, who were secure of
impunity, had often marched at the head of their congregation, to attack
and demolish the fortresses of the prince of darkness. The consecrated
lands, which had increased the patrimony of the sovereign or of the
clergy, were clearly defined, and easily restored. But on these lands, and
on the ruins of Pagan superstition, the Christians had frequently erected
their own religious edifices: and as it was necessary to remove the church
before the temple could be rebuilt, the justice and piety of the emperor
were applauded by one party, while the other deplored and execrated his
sacrilegious violence. 97 After the ground was cleared, the restitution
of those stately structures which had been levelled with the dust, and of
the precious ornaments which had been converted to Christian uses, swelled
into a very large account of damages and debt. The authors of the injury
had neither the ability nor the inclination to discharge this accumulated
demand: and the impartial wisdom of a legislator would have been displayed
in balancing the adverse claims and complaints, by an equitable and
temperate arbitration.
But the whole empire, and particularly the East, was thrown into confusion
by the rash edicts of Julian; and the Pagan magistrates, inflamed by zeal
and revenge, abused the rigorous privilege of the Roman law, which
substitutes, in the place of his inadequate property, the person of the
insolvent debtor. Under the preceding reign, Mark, bishop of Arethusa, 98
had labored in the conversion of his people with arms more effectual than
those of persuasion. 99 The magistrates required the full value of a
temple which had been destroyed by his intolerant zeal: but as they were
satisfied of his poverty, they desired only to bend his inflexible spirit
to the promise of the slightest compensation. They apprehended the aged
prelate, they inhumanly scourged him, they tore his beard; and his naked
body, annointed with honey, was suspended, in a net, between heaven and
earth, and exposed to the stings of insects and the rays of a Syrian sun.
100
From this lofty station, Mark still persisted to glory in his crime, and
to insult the impotent rage of his persecutors. He was at length rescued
from their hands, and dismissed to enjoy the honor of his divine triumph.
The Arians celebrated the virtue of their pious confessor; the Catholics
ambitiously claimed his alliance; 101 and the Pagans,
who might be susceptible of shame or remorse, were deterred from the
repetition of such unavailing cruelty. 102 Julian spared his
life: but if the bishop of Arethusa had saved the infancy of Julian, 103
posterity will condemn the ingratitude, instead of praising the clemency,
of the emperor.
At the distance of five miles from Antioch, the Macedonian kings of Syria
had consecrated to Apollo one of the most elegant places of devotion in
the Pagan world. 104 A magnificent temple rose in honor of the
god of light; and his colossal figure 105 almost filled the
capacious sanctuary, which was enriched with gold and gems, and adorned by
the skill of the Grecian artists. The deity was represented in a bending
attitude, with a golden cup in his hand, pouring out a libation on the
earth; as if he supplicated the venerable mother to give to his arms the
cold and beauteous Daphne: for the spot was ennobled by fiction; and the
fancy of the Syrian poets had transported the amorous tale from the banks
of the Peneus to those of the Orontes. The ancient rites of Greece were
imitated by the royal colony of Antioch. A stream of prophecy, which
rivalled the truth and reputation of the Delphic oracle, flowed from the
Castalian fountain of Daphne. 106 In the adjacent
fields a stadium was built by a special privilege, 107
which had been purchased from Elis; the Olympic games were celebrated at
the expense of the city; and a revenue of thirty thousand pounds sterling
was annually applied to the public pleasures. 108 The perpetual
resort of pilgrims and spectators insensibly formed, in the neighborhood
of the temple, the stately and populous village of Daphne, which emulated
the splendor, without acquiring the title, of a provincial city. The
temple and the village were deeply bosomed in a thick grove of laurels and
cypresses, which reached as far as a circumference of ten miles, and
formed in the most sultry summers a cool and impenetrable shade. A
thousand streams of the purest water, issuing from every hill, preserved
the verdure of the earth, and the temperature of the air; the senses were
gratified with harmonious sounds and aromatic odors; and the peaceful
grove was consecrated to health and joy, to luxury and love. The vigorous
youth pursued, like Apollo, the object of his desires; and the blushing
maid was warned, by the fate of Daphne, to shun the folly of unseasonable
coyness. The soldier and the philosopher wisely avoided the temptation of
this sensual paradise: 109 where pleasure, assuming the character of
religion, imperceptibly dissolved the firmness of manly virtue. But the
groves of Daphne continued for many ages to enjoy the veneration of
natives and strangers; the privileges of the holy ground were enlarged by
the munificence of succeeding emperors; and every generation added new
ornaments to the splendor of the temple. 110
When Julian, on the day of the annual festival, hastened to adore the
Apollo of Daphne, his devotion was raised to the highest pitch of
eagerness and impatience. His lively imagination anticipated the grateful
pomp of victims, of libations and of incense; a long procession of youths
and virgins, clothed in white robes, the symbol of their innocence; and
the tumultuous concourse of an innumerable people. But the zeal of Antioch
was diverted, since the reign of Christianity, into a different channel.
Instead of hecatombs of fat oxen sacrificed by the tribes of a wealthy
city to their tutelar deity the emperor complains that he found only a
single goose, provided at the expense of a priest, the pale and solitary
inhabitant of this decayed temple. 111 The altar was
deserted, the oracle had been reduced to silence, and the holy ground was
profaned by the introduction of Christian and funereal rites. After
Babylas 112 (a bishop of Antioch, who died in prison in
the persecution of Decius) had rested near a century in his grave, his
body, by the order of Cæsar Gallus, was transported into the midst of the
grove of Daphne. A magnificent church was erected over his remains; a
portion of the sacred lands was usurped for the maintenance of the clergy,
and for the burial of the Christians at Antioch, who were ambitious of
lying at the feet of their bishop; and the priests of Apollo retired, with
their affrighted and indignant votaries. As soon as another revolution
seemed to restore the fortune of Paganism, the church of St. Babylas was
demolished, and new buildings were added to the mouldering edifice which
had been raised by the piety of Syrian kings. But the first and most
serious care of Julian was to deliver his oppressed deity from the odious
presence of the dead and living Christians, who had so effectually
suppressed the voice of fraud or enthusiasm. 113 The scene of
infection was purified, according to the forms of ancient rituals; the
bodies were decently removed; and the ministers of the church were
permitted to convey the remains of St. Babylas to their former habitation
within the walls of Antioch. The modest behavior which might have assuaged
the jealousy of a hostile government was neglected, on this occasion, by
the zeal of the Christians. The lofty car, that transported the relics of
Babylas, was followed, and accompanied, and received, by an innumerable
multitude; who chanted, with thundering acclamations, the Psalms of David
the most expressive of their contempt for idols and idolaters. The return
of the saint was a triumph; and the triumph was an insult on the religion
of the emperor, who exerted his pride to dissemble his resentment. During
the night which terminated this indiscreet procession, the temple of
Daphne was in flames; the statue of Apollo was consumed; and the walls of
the edifice were left a naked and awful monument of ruin. The Christians
of Antioch asserted, with religious confidence, that the powerful
intercession of St. Babylas had pointed the lightnings of heaven against
the devoted roof: but as Julian was reduced to the alternative of
believing either a crime or a miracle, he chose, without hesitation,
without evidence, but with some color of probability, to impute the fire
of Daphne to the revenge of the Galilæans. 114 Their offence, had
it been sufficiently proved, might have justified the retaliation, which
was immediately executed by the order of Julian, of shutting the doors,
and confiscating the wealth, of the cathedral of Antioch. To discover the
criminals who were guilty of the tumult, of the fire, or of secreting the
riches of the church, several of the ecclesiastics were tortured; 115
and a Presbyter, of the name of Theodoret, was beheaded by the sentence of
the Count of the East. But this hasty act was blamed by the emperor; who
lamented, with real or affected concern, that the imprudent zeal of his
ministers would tarnish his reign with the disgrace of persecution. 116
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.—Part V.
The zeal of the ministers of Julian was instantly checked by the frown of
their sovereign; but when the father of his country declares himself the
leader of a faction, the license of popular fury cannot easily be
restrained, nor consistently punished. Julian, in a public composition,
applauds the devotion and loyalty of the holy cities of Syria, whose pious
inhabitants had destroyed, at the first signal, the sepulchres of the
Galilæans; and faintly complains, that they had revenged the injuries of
the gods with less moderation than he should have recommended. 117
This imperfect and reluctant confession may appear to confirm the
ecclesiastical narratives; that in the cities of Gaza, Ascalon, Cæsarea,
Heliopolis, &c., the Pagans abused, without prudence or remorse, the
moment of their prosperity. That the unhappy objects of their cruelty were
released from torture only by death; and as their mangled bodies were
dragged through the streets, they were pierced (such was the universal
rage) by the spits of cooks, and the distaffs of enraged women; and that
the entrails of Christian priests and virgins, after they had been tasted
by those bloody fanatics, were mixed with barley, and contemptuously
thrown to the unclean animals of the city. 118 Such scenes of
religious madness exhibit the most contemptible and odious picture of
human nature; but the massacre of Alexandria attracts still more
attention, from the certainty of the fact, the rank of the victims, and
the splendor of the capital of Egypt.
George, 119 from his parents or his education, surnamed
the Cappadocian, was born at Epiphania in Cilicia, in a fuller’s shop.
From this obscure and servile origin he raised himself by the talents of a
parasite; and the patrons, whom he assiduously flattered, procured for
their worthless dependent a lucrative commission, or contract, to supply
the army with bacon. His employment was mean; he rendered it infamous. He
accumulated wealth by the basest arts of fraud and corruption; but his
malversations were so notorious, that George was compelled to escape from
the pursuits of justice. After this disgrace, in which he appears to have
saved his fortune at the expense of his honor, he embraced, with real or
affected zeal, the profession of Arianism. From the love, or the
ostentation, of learning, he collected a valuable library of history
rhetoric, philosophy, and theology, 120 and the choice of
the prevailing faction promoted George of Cappadocia to the throne of
Athanasius. The entrance of the new archbishop was that of a Barbarian
conqueror; and each moment of his reign was polluted by cruelty and
avarice. The Catholics of Alexandria and Egypt were abandoned to a tyrant,
qualified, by nature and education, to exercise the office of persecution;
but he oppressed with an impartial hand the various inhabitants of his
extensive diocese. The primate of Egypt assumed the pomp and insolence of
his lofty station; but he still betrayed the vices of his base and servile
extraction. The merchants of Alexandria were impoverished by the unjust,
and almost universal, monopoly, which he acquired, of nitre, salt, paper,
funerals, &c.: and the spiritual father of a great people condescended
to practise the vile and pernicious arts of an informer. The Alexandrians
could never forget, nor forgive, the tax, which he suggested, on all the
houses of the city; under an obsolete claim, that the royal founder had
conveyed to his successors, the Ptolemies and the Cæsars, the perpetual
property of the soil. The Pagans, who had been flattered with the hopes of
freedom and toleration, excited his devout avarice; and the rich temples
of Alexandria were either pillaged or insulted by the haughty prince, who
exclaimed, in a loud and threatening tone, “How long will these sepulchres
be permitted to stand?” Under the reign of Constantius, he was expelled by
the fury, or rather by the justice, of the people; and it was not without
a violent struggle, that the civil and military powers of the state could
restore his authority, and gratify his revenge. The messenger who
proclaimed at Alexandria the accession of Julian, announced the downfall
of the archbishop. George, with two of his obsequious ministers, Count
Diodorus, and Dracontius, master of the mint were ignominiously dragged in
chains to the public prison. At the end of twenty-four days, the prison
was forced open by the rage of a superstitious multitude, impatient of the
tedious forms of judicial proceedings. The enemies of gods and men expired
under their cruel insults; the lifeless bodies of the archbishop and his
associates were carried in triumph through the streets on the back of a
camel; 12011 and the inactivity of the Athanasian
party 121 was esteemed a shining example of
evangelical patience. The remains of these guilty wretches were thrown
into the sea; and the popular leaders of the tumult declared their
resolution to disappoint the devotion of the Christians, and to intercept
the future honors of these martyrs, who had been punished, like their
predecessors, by the enemies of their religion. 122 The fears of the
Pagans were just, and their precautions ineffectual. The meritorious death
of the archbishop obliterated the memory of his life. The rival of
Athanasius was dear and sacred to the Arians, and the seeming conversion
of those sectaries introduced his worship into the bosom of the Catholic
church. 123 The odious stranger, disguising every
circumstance of time and place, assumed the mask of a martyr, a saint, and
a Christian hero; 124 and the infamous George of Cappadocia has
been transformed 125 into the renowned St. George of England,
the patron of arms, of chivalry, and of the garter. 126
About the same time that Julian was informed of the tumult of Alexandria,
he received intelligence from Edessa, that the proud and wealthy faction
of the Arians had insulted the weakness of the Valentinians, and committed
such disorders as ought not to be suffered with impunity in a
well-regulated state. Without expecting the slow forms of justice, the
exasperated prince directed his mandate to the magistrates of Edessa, 127
by which he confiscated the whole property of the church: the money was
distributed among the soldiers; the lands were added to the domain; and
this act of oppression was aggravated by the most ungenerous irony. “I
show myself,” says Julian, “the true friend of the Galilæans. Their
admirable law has promised the kingdom of heaven to the poor; and they
will advance with more diligence in the paths of virtue and salvation,
when they are relieved by my assistance from the load of temporal
possessions. Take care,” pursued the monarch, in a more serious tone,
“take care how you provoke my patience and humanity. If these disorders
continue, I will revenge on the magistrates the crimes of the people; and
you will have reason to dread, not only confiscation and exile, but fire
and the sword.” The tumults of Alexandria were doubtless of a more bloody
and dangerous nature: but a Christian bishop had fallen by the hands of
the Pagans; and the public epistle of Julian affords a very lively proof
of the partial spirit of his administration. His reproaches to the
citizens of Alexandria are mingled with expressions of esteem and
tenderness; and he laments, that, on this occasion, they should have
departed from the gentle and generous manners which attested their Grecian
extraction. He gravely censures the offence which they had committed
against the laws of justice and humanity; but he recapitulates, with
visible complacency, the intolerable provocations which they had so long
endured from the impious tyranny of George of Cappadocia. Julian admits
the principle, that a wise and vigorous government should chastise the
insolence of the people; yet, in consideration of their founder Alexander,
and of Serapis their tutelar deity, he grants a free and gracious pardon
to the guilty city, for which he again feels the affection of a brother.
128
After the tumult of Alexandria had subsided, Athanasius, amidst the public
acclamations, seated himself on the throne from whence his unworthy
competitor had been precipitated: and as the zeal of the archbishop was
tempered with discretion, the exercise of his authority tended not to
inflame, but to reconcile, the minds of the people. His pastoral labors
were not confined to the narrow limits of Egypt. The state of the
Christian world was present to his active and capacious mind; and the age,
the merit, the reputation of Athanasius, enabled him to assume, in a
moment of danger, the office of Ecclesiastical Dictator. 129
Three years were not yet elapsed since the majority of the bishops of the
West had ignorantly, or reluctantly, subscribed the Confession of Rimini.
They repented, they believed, but they dreaded the unseasonable rigor of
their orthodox brethren; and if their pride was stronger than their faith,
they might throw themselves into the arms of the Arians, to escape the
indignity of a public penance, which must degrade them to the condition of
obscure laymen. At the same time the domestic differences concerning the
union and distinction of the divine persons, were agitated with some heat
among the Catholic doctors; and the progress of this metaphysical
controversy seemed to threaten a public and lasting division of the Greek
and Latin churches. By the wisdom of a select synod, to which the name and
presence of Athanasius gave the authority of a general council, the
bishops, who had unwarily deviated into error, were admitted to the
communion of the church, on the easy condition of subscribing the Nicene
Creed; without any formal acknowledgment of their past fault, or any
minute definition of their scholastic opinions. The advice of the primate
of Egypt had already prepared the clergy of Gaul and Spain, of Italy and
Greece, for the reception of this salutary measure; and, notwithstanding
the opposition of some ardent spirits, 130 the fear of the
common enemy promoted the peace and harmony of the Christians. 131
The skill and diligence of the primate of Egypt had improved the season of
tranquillity, before it was interrupted by the hostile edicts of the
emperor. 132 Julian, who despised the Christians,
honored Athanasius with his sincere and peculiar hatred. For his sake
alone, he introduced an arbitrary distinction, repugnant at least to the
spirit of his former declarations. He maintained, that the Galilæans,
whom he had recalled from exile, were not restored, by that general
indulgence, to the possession of their respective churches; and he
expressed his astonishment, that a criminal, who had been repeatedly
condemned by the judgment of the emperors, should dare to insult the
majesty of the laws, and insolently usurp the archiepiscopal throne of
Alexandria, without expecting the orders of his sovereign. As a punishment
for the imaginary offence, he again banished Athanasius from the city; and
he was pleased to suppose, that this act of justice would be highly
agreeable to his pious subjects. The pressing solicitations of the people
soon convinced him, that the majority of the Alexandrians were Christians;
and that the greatest part of the Christians were firmly attached to the
cause of their oppressed primate. But the knowledge of their sentiments,
instead of persuading him to recall his decree, provoked him to extend to
all Egypt the term of the exile of Athanasius. The zeal of the multitude
rendered Julian still more inexorable: he was alarmed by the danger of
leaving at the head of a tumultuous city, a daring and popular leader; and
the language of his resentment discovers the opinion which he entertained
of the courage and abilities of Athanasius. The execution of the sentence
was still delayed, by the caution or negligence of Ecdicius, præfect of
Egypt, who was at length awakened from his lethargy by a severe reprimand.
“Though you neglect,” says Julian, “to write to me on any other subject,
at least it is your duty to inform me of your conduct towards Athanasius,
the enemy of the gods. My intentions have been long since communicated to
you. I swear by the great Serapis, that unless, on the calends of
December, Athanasius has departed from Alexandria, nay, from Egypt, the
officers of your government shall pay a fine of one hundred pounds of
gold. You know my temper: I am slow to condemn, but I am still slower to
forgive.” This epistle was enforced by a short postscript, written with
the emperor’s own hand. “The contempt that is shown for all the gods fills
me with grief and indignation. There is nothing that I should see, nothing
that I should hear, with more pleasure, than the expulsion of Athanasius
from all Egypt. The abominable wretch! Under my reign, the baptism of
several Grecian ladies of the highest rank has been the effect of his
persecutions.” 133 The death of Athanasius was not expressly
commanded; but the præfect of Egypt understood that it was safer for him
to exceed, than to neglect, the orders of an irritated master. The
archbishop prudently retired to the monasteries of the Desert; eluded,
with his usual dexterity, the snares of the enemy; and lived to triumph
over the ashes of a prince, who, in words of formidable import, had
declared his wish that the whole venom of the Galilæan school were
contained in the single person of Athanasius. 134 13411
I have endeavored faithfully to represent the artful system by which
Julian proposed to obtain the effects, without incurring the guilt, or
reproach, of persecution. But if the deadly spirit of fanaticism perverted
the heart and understanding of a virtuous prince, it must, at the same
time, be confessed that the real sufferings of the Christians were
inflamed and magnified by human passions and religious enthusiasm. The
meekness and resignation which had distinguished the primitive disciples
of the gospel, was the object of the applause, rather than of the
imitation of their successors. The Christians, who had now possessed above
forty years the civil and ecclesiastical government of the empire, had
contracted the insolent vices of prosperity, 135 and the habit of
believing that the saints alone were entitled to reign over the earth. As
soon as the enmity of Julian deprived the clergy of the privileges which
had been conferred by the favor of Constantine, they complained of the
most cruel oppression; and the free toleration of idolaters and heretics
was a subject of grief and scandal to the orthodox party. 136
The acts of violence, which were no longer countenanced by the
magistrates, were still committed by the zeal of the people. At Pessinus,
the altar of Cybele was overturned almost in the presence of the emperor;
and in the city of Cæsarea in Cappadocia, the temple of Fortune, the sole
place of worship which had been left to the Pagans, was destroyed by the
rage of a popular tumult. On these occasions, a prince, who felt for the
honor of the gods, was not disposed to interrupt the course of justice;
and his mind was still more deeply exasperated, when he found that the
fanatics, who had deserved and suffered the punishment of incendiaries,
were rewarded with the honors of martyrdom. 137 The Christian
subjects of Julian were assured of the hostile designs of their sovereign;
and, to their jealous apprehension, every circumstance of his government
might afford some grounds of discontent and suspicion. In the ordinary
administration of the laws, the Christians, who formed so large a part of
the people, must frequently be condemned: but their indulgent brethren,
without examining the merits of the cause, presumed their innocence,
allowed their claims, and imputed the severity of their judge to the
partial malice of religious persecution. 138 These present
hardships, intolerable as they might appear, were represented as a slight
prelude of the impending calamities. The Christians considered Julian as a
cruel and crafty tyrant; who suspended the execution of his revenge till
he should return victorious from the Persian war. They expected, that as
soon as he had triumphed over the foreign enemies of Rome, he would lay
aside the irksome mask of dissimulation; that the amphitheatre would
stream with the blood of hermits and bishops; and that the Christians who
still persevered in the profession of the faith, would be deprived of the
common benefits of nature and society. 139 Every calumny 140
that could wound the reputation of the Apostate, was credulously embraced
by the fears and hatred of his adversaries; and their indiscreet clamors
provoked the temper of a sovereign, whom it was their duty to respect, and
their interest to flatter.
They still protested, that prayers and tears were their only weapons
against the impious tyrant, whose head they devoted to the justice of
offended Heaven. But they insinuated, with sullen resolution, that their
submission was no longer the effect of weakness; and that, in the
imperfect state of human virtue, the patience, which is founded on
principle, may be exhausted by persecution. It is impossible to determine
how far the zeal of Julian would have prevailed over his good sense and
humanity; but if we seriously reflect on the strength and spirit of the
church, we shall be convinced, that before the emperor could have
extinguished the religion of Christ, he must have involved his country in
the horrors of a civil war. 141
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.—Part I.
Residence Of Julian At Antioch.—His Successful Expedition
Against The Persians.—Passage Of The Tigris—The Retreat
And Death Of Julian.—Election Of Jovian.—He Saves The
Roman Army By A Disgraceful Treaty.
The philosophical fable which Julian composed under the name of the
Cæsars, 1 is one of the most agreeable and instructive
productions of ancient wit. 2 During the freedom and equality of the days of
the Saturnalia, Romulus prepared a feast for the deities of Olympus, who
had adopted him as a worthy associate, and for the Roman princes, who had
reigned over his martial people, and the vanquished nations of the earth.
The immortals were placed in just order on their thrones of state, and the
table of the Cæsars was spread below the Moon in the upper region of the
air. The tyrants, who would have disgraced the society of gods and men,
were thrown headlong, by the inexorable Nemesis, into the Tartarean abyss.
The rest of the Cæsars successively advanced to their seats; and as they
passed, the vices, the defects, the blemishes of their respective
characters, were maliciously noticed by old Silenus, a laughing moralist,
who disguised the wisdom of a philosopher under the mask of a Bacchanal.
3
As soon as the feast was ended, the voice of Mercury proclaimed the will
of Jupiter, that a celestial crown should be the reward of superior merit.
Julius Cæsar, Augustus, Trajan, and Marcus Antoninus, were selected as
the most illustrious candidates; the effeminate Constantine 4 was
not excluded from this honorable competition, and the great Alexander was
invited to dispute the prize of glory with the Roman heroes. Each of the
candidates was allowed to display the merit of his own exploits; but, in
the judgment of the gods, the modest silence of Marcus pleaded more
powerfully than the elaborate orations of his haughty rivals. When the
judges of this awful contest proceeded to examine the heart, and to
scrutinize the springs of action, the superiority of the Imperial Stoic
appeared still more decisive and conspicuous. 5 Alexander and Cæsar,
Augustus, Trajan, and Constantine, acknowledged, with a blush, that fame,
or power, or pleasure had been the important object of their labors: but
the gods themselves beheld, with reverence and love, a virtuous mortal,
who had practised on the throne the lessons of philosophy; and who, in a
state of human imperfection, had aspired to imitate the moral attributes
of the Deity. The value of this agreeable composition (the Cæsars of
Julian) is enhanced by the rank of the author. A prince, who delineates,
with freedom, the vices and virtues of his predecessors, subscribes, in
every line, the censure or approbation of his own conduct.
In the cool moments of reflection, Julian preferred the useful and
benevolent virtues of Antoninus; but his ambitious spirit was inflamed by
the glory of Alexander; and he solicited, with equal ardor, the esteem of
the wise, and the applause of the multitude. In the season of life when
the powers of the mind and body enjoy the most active vigor, the emperor
who was instructed by the experience, and animated by the success, of the
German war, resolved to signalize his reign by some more splendid and
memorable achievement. The ambassadors of the East, from the continent of
India, and the Isle of Ceylon, 6 had respectfully saluted
the Roman purple. 7 The nations of the West esteemed and dreaded
the personal virtues of Julian, both in peace and war. He despised the
trophies of a Gothic victory, and was satisfied that the rapacious
Barbarians of the Danube would be restrained from any future violation of
the faith of treaties by the terror of his name, and the additional
fortifications with which he strengthened the Thracian and Illyrian
frontiers. The successor of Cyrus and Artaxerxes was the only rival whom
he deemed worthy of his arms; and he resolved, by the final conquest of
Persia, to chastise the naughty nation which had so long resisted and
insulted the majesty of Rome. 9 As soon as the Persian
monarch was informed that the throne of Constantius was filled by a prince
of a very different character, he condescended to make some artful, or
perhaps sincere, overtures towards a negotiation of peace. But the pride
of Sapor was astonished by the firmness of Julian; who sternly declared,
that he would never consent to hold a peaceful conference among the flames
and ruins of the cities of Mesopotamia; and who added, with a smile of
contempt, that it was needless to treat by ambassadors, as he himself had
determined to visit speedily the court of Persia. The impatience of the
emperor urged the diligence of the military preparations. The generals
were named; and Julian, marching from Constantinople through the provinces
of Asia Minor, arrived at Antioch about eight months after the death of
his predecessor. His ardent desire to march into the heart of Persia, was
checked by the indispensable duty of regulating the state of the empire;
by his zeal to revive the worship of the gods; and by the advice of his
wisest friends; who represented the necessity of allowing the salutary
interval of winter quarters, to restore the exhausted strength of the
legions of Gaul, and the discipline and spirit of the Eastern troops.
Julian was persuaded to fix, till the ensuing spring, his residence at
Antioch, among a people maliciously disposed to deride the haste, and to
censure the delays, of their sovereign. 10
If Julian had flattered himself, that his personal connection with the
capital of the East would be productive of mutual satisfaction to the
prince and people, he made a very false estimate of his own character, and
of the manners of Antioch. 11 The warmth of the climate disposed the
natives to the most intemperate enjoyment of tranquillity and opulence;
and the lively licentiousness of the Greeks was blended with the
hereditary softness of the Syrians. Fashion was the only law, pleasure the
only pursuit, and the splendor of dress and furniture was the only
distinction of the citizens of Antioch. The arts of luxury were honored;
the serious and manly virtues were the subject of ridicule; and the
contempt for female modesty and reverent age announced the universal
corruption of the capital of the East. The love of spectacles was the
taste, or rather passion, of the Syrians; the most skilful artists were
procured from the adjacent cities; 12 a considerable share
of the revenue was devoted to the public amusements; and the magnificence
of the games of the theatre and circus was considered as the happiness and
as the glory of Antioch. The rustic manners of a prince who disdained such
glory, and was insensible of such happiness, soon disgusted the delicacy
of his subjects; and the effeminate Orientals could neither imitate, nor
admire, the severe simplicity which Julian always maintained, and
sometimes affected. The days of festivity, consecrated, by ancient custom,
to the honor of the gods, were the only occasions in which Julian relaxed
his philosophic severity; and those festivals were the only days in which
the Syrians of Antioch could reject the allurements of pleasure. The
majority of the people supported the glory of the Christian name, which
had been first invented by their ancestors: 13 they contended
themselves with disobeying the moral precepts, but they were scrupulously
attached to the speculative doctrines of their religion. The church of
Antioch was distracted by heresy and schism; but the Arians and the
Athanasians, the followers of Meletius and those of Paulinus, 14
were actuated by the same pious hatred of their common adversary.
The strongest prejudice was entertained against the character of an
apostate, the enemy and successor of a prince who had engaged the
affections of a very numerous sect; and the removal of St. Babylas excited
an implacable opposition to the person of Julian. His subjects complained,
with superstitious indignation, that famine had pursued the emperor’s
steps from Constantinople to Antioch; and the discontent of a hungry
people was exasperated by the injudicious attempt to relieve their
distress. The inclemency of the season had affected the harvests of Syria;
and the price of bread, 15 in the markets of Antioch, had naturally
risen in proportion to the scarcity of corn. But the fair and reasonable
proportion was soon violated by the rapacious arts of monopoly. In this
unequal contest, in which the produce of the land is claimed by one party
as his exclusive property, is used by another as a lucrative object of
trade, and is required by a third for the daily and necessary support of
life, all the profits of the intermediate agents are accumulated on the
head of the defenceless customers. The hardships of their situation were
exaggerated and increased by their own impatience and anxiety; and the
apprehension of a scarcity gradually produced the appearances of a famine.
When the luxurious citizens of Antioch complained of the high price of
poultry and fish, Julian publicly declared, that a frugal city ought to be
satisfied with a regular supply of wine, oil, and bread; but he
acknowledged, that it was the duty of a sovereign to provide for the
subsistence of his people. With this salutary view, the emperor ventured
on a very dangerous and doubtful step, of fixing, by legal authority, the
value of corn. He enacted, that, in a time of scarcity, it should be sold
at a price which had seldom been known in the most plentiful years; and
that his own example might strengthen his laws, he sent into the market
four hundred and twenty-two thousand modii, or measures, which were drawn
by his order from the granaries of Hierapolis, of Chalcis, and even of
Egypt. The consequences might have been foreseen, and were soon felt. The
Imperial wheat was purchased by the rich merchants; the proprietors of
land, or of corn, withheld from the city the accustomed supply; and the
small quantities that appeared in the market were secretly sold at an
advanced and illegal price. Julian still continued to applaud his own
policy, treated the complaints of the people as a vain and ungrateful
murmur, and convinced Antioch that he had inherited the obstinacy, though
not the cruelty, of his brother Gallus. 16 The remonstrances of
the municipal senate served only to exasperate his inflexible mind. He was
persuaded, perhaps with truth, that the senators of Antioch who possessed
lands, or were concerned in trade, had themselves contributed to the
calamities of their country; and he imputed the disrespectful boldness
which they assumed, to the sense, not of public duty, but of private
interest. The whole body, consisting of two hundred of the most noble and
wealthy citizens, were sent, under a guard, from the palace to the prison;
and though they were permitted, before the close of evening, to return to
their respective houses, 17 the emperor himself could not obtain the
forgiveness which he had so easily granted. The same grievances were still
the subject of the same complaints, which were industriously circulated by
the wit and levity of the Syrian Greeks. During the licentious days of the
Saturnalia, the streets of the city resounded with insolent songs, which
derided the laws, the religion, the personal conduct, and even the beard,
of the emperor; the spirit of Antioch was manifested by the connivance of
the magistrates, and the applause of the multitude. 18
The disciple of Socrates was too deeply affected by these popular insults;
but the monarch, endowed with a quick sensibility, and possessed of
absolute power, refused his passions the gratification of revenge. A
tyrant might have proscribed, without distinction, the lives and fortunes
of the citizens of Antioch; and the unwarlike Syrians must have patiently
submitted to the lust, the rapaciousness and the cruelty, of the faithful
legions of Gaul. A milder sentence might have deprived the capital of the
East of its honors and privileges; and the courtiers, perhaps the
subjects, of Julian, would have applauded an act of justice, which
asserted the dignity of the supreme magistrate of the republic. 19
But instead of abusing, or exerting, the authority of the state, to
revenge his personal injuries, Julian contented himself with an
inoffensive mode of retaliation, which it would be in the power of few
princes to employ. He had been insulted by satires and libels; in his
turn, he composed, under the title of the Enemy of the Beard, an ironical
confession of his own faults, and a severe satire on the licentious and
effeminate manners of Antioch. This Imperial reply was publicly exposed
before the gates of the palace; and the Misopogon 20 still remains a
singular monument of the resentment, the wit, the humanity, and the
indiscretion of Julian. Though he affected to laugh, he could not forgive.
21
His contempt was expressed, and his revenge might be gratified, by the
nomination of a governor 22 worthy only of such subjects; and the
emperor, forever renouncing the ungrateful city, proclaimed his resolution
to pass the ensuing winter at Tarsus in Cilicia. 23
Yet Antioch possessed one citizen, whose genius and virtues might atone,
in the opinion of Julian, for the vice and folly of his country. The
sophist Libanius was born in the capital of the East; he publicly
professed the arts of rhetoric and declamation at Nice, Nicomedia,
Constantinople, Athens, and, during the remainder of his life, at Antioch.
His school was assiduously frequented by the Grecian youth; his disciples,
who sometimes exceeded the number of eighty, celebrated their incomparable
master; and the jealousy of his rivals, who persecuted him from one city
to another, confirmed the favorable opinion which Libanius ostentatiously
displayed of his superior merit. The preceptors of Julian had extorted a
rash but solemn assurance, that he would never attend the lectures of
their adversary: the curiosity of the royal youth was checked and
inflamed: he secretly procured the writings of this dangerous sophist, and
gradually surpassed, in the perfect imitation of his style, the most
laborious of his domestic pupils. 24 When Julian ascended
the throne, he declared his impatience to embrace and reward the Syrian
sophist, who had preserved, in a degenerate age, the Grecian purity of
taste, of manners, and of religion. The emperor’s prepossession was
increased and justified by the discreet pride of his favorite. Instead of
pressing, with the foremost of the crowd, into the palace of
Constantinople, Libanius calmly expected his arrival at Antioch; withdrew
from court on the first symptoms of coldness and indifference; required a
formal invitation for each visit; and taught his sovereign an important
lesson, that he might command the obedience of a subject, but that he must
deserve the attachment of a friend. The sophists of every age, despising,
or affecting to despise, the accidental distinctions of birth and fortune,
25
reserve their esteem for the superior qualities of the mind, with which
they themselves are so plentifully endowed. Julian might disdain the
acclamations of a venal court, who adored the Imperial purple; but he was
deeply flattered by the praise, the admonition, the freedom, and the envy
of an independent philosopher, who refused his favors, loved his person,
celebrated his fame, and protected his memory. The voluminous writings of
Libanius still exist; for the most part, they are the vain and idle
compositions of an orator, who cultivated the science of words; the
productions of a recluse student, whose mind, regardless of his
contemporaries, was incessantly fixed on the Trojan war and the Athenian
commonwealth. Yet the sophist of Antioch sometimes descended from this
imaginary elevation; he entertained a various and elaborate
correspondence; 26 he praised the virtues of his own times; he
boldly arraigned the abuse of public and private life; and he eloquently
pleaded the cause of Antioch against the just resentment of Julian and
Theodosius. It is the common calamity of old age, 27 to lose whatever
might have rendered it desirable; but Libanius experienced the peculiar
misfortune of surviving the religion and the sciences, to which he had
consecrated his genius. The friend of Julian was an indignant spectator of
the triumph of Christianity; and his bigotry, which darkened the prospect
of the visible world, did not inspire Libanius with any lively hopes of
celestial glory and happiness. 28
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.—Part II.
The martial impatience of Julian urged him to take the field in the
beginning of the spring; and he dismissed, with contempt and reproach, the
senate of Antioch, who accompanied the emperor beyond the limits of their
own territory, to which he was resolved never to return. After a laborious
march of two days, 29 he halted on the third at Beræa, or Aleppo,
where he had the mortification of finding a senate almost entirely
Christian; who received with cold and formal demonstrations of respect the
eloquent sermon of the apostle of paganism. The son of one of the most
illustrious citizens of Beræa, who had embraced, either from interest or
conscience, the religion of the emperor, was disinherited by his angry
parent. The father and the son were invited to the Imperial table. Julian,
placing himself between them, attempted, without success, to inculcate the
lesson and example of toleration; supported, with affected calmness, the
indiscreet zeal of the aged Christian, who seemed to forget the sentiments
of nature, and the duty of a subject; and at length, turning towards the
afflicted youth, “Since you have lost a father,” said he, “for my sake, it
is incumbent on me to supply his place.” 30 The emperor was
received in a manner much more agreeable to his wishes at Batnæ, 3011
a small town pleasantly seated in a grove of cypresses, about twenty miles
from the city of Hierapolis. The solemn rites of sacrifice were decently
prepared by the inhabitants of Batnæ, who seemed attached to the worship
of their tutelar deities, Apollo and Jupiter; but the serious piety of
Julian was offended by the tumult of their applause; and he too clearly
discerned, that the smoke which arose from their altars was the incense of
flattery, rather than of devotion. The ancient and magnificent temple
which had sanctified, for so many ages, the city of Hierapolis, 31
no longer subsisted; and the consecrated wealth, which afforded a liberal
maintenance to more than three hundred priests, might hasten its downfall.
Yet Julian enjoyed the satisfaction of embracing a philosopher and a
friend, whose religious firmness had withstood the pressing and repeated
solicitations of Constantius and Gallus, as often as those princes lodged
at his house, in their passage through Hierapolis. In the hurry of
military preparation, and the careless confidence of a familiar
correspondence, the zeal of Julian appears to have been lively and
uniform. He had now undertaken an important and difficult war; and the
anxiety of the event rendered him still more attentive to observe and
register the most trifling presages, from which, according to the rules of
divination, any knowledge of futurity could be derived. 32
He informed Libanius of his progress as far as Hierapolis, by an elegant
epistle, 33 which displays the facility of his genius,
and his tender friendship for the sophist of Antioch.
Hierapolis, 3311 situate almost on the banks of the
Euphrates, 34 had been appointed for the general rendezvous
of the Roman troops, who immediately passed the great river on a bridge of
boats, which was previously constructed. 35 If the inclinations
of Julian had been similar to those of his predecessor, he might have
wasted the active and important season of the year in the circus of
Samosata or in the churches of Edessa. But as the warlike emperor, instead
of Constantius, had chosen Alexander for his model, he advanced without
delay to Carrhæ, 36 a very ancient city of Mesopotamia, at the
distance of fourscore miles from Hierapolis. The temple of the Moon
attracted the devotion of Julian; but the halt of a few days was
principally employed in completing the immense preparations of the Persian
war. The secret of the expedition had hitherto remained in his own breast;
but as Carrhæ is the point of separation of the two great roads, he could
no longer conceal whether it was his design to attack the dominions of
Sapor on the side of the Tigris, or on that of the Euphrates. The emperor
detached an army of thirty thousand men, under the command of his kinsman
Procopius, and of Sebastian, who had been duke of Egypt. They were ordered
to direct their march towards Nisibis, and to secure the frontier from the
desultory incursions of the enemy, before they attempted the passage of
the Tigris. Their subsequent operations were left to the discretion of the
generals; but Julian expected, that after wasting with fire and sword the
fertile districts of Media and Adiabene, they might arrive under the walls
of Ctesiphon at the same time that he himself, advancing with equal steps
along the banks of the Euphrates, should besiege the capital of the
Persian monarchy. The success of this well-concerted plan depended, in a
great measure, on the powerful and ready assistance of the king of
Armenia, who, without exposing the safety of his own dominions, might
detach an army of four thousand horse, and twenty thousand foot, to the
assistance of the Romans. 37 But the feeble Arsaces Tiranus, 38
king of Armenia, had degenerated still more shamefully than his father
Chosroes, from the manly virtues of the great Tiridates; and as the
pusillanimous monarch was averse to any enterprise of danger and glory, he
could disguise his timid indolence by the more decent excuses of religion
and gratitude. He expressed a pious attachment to the memory of
Constantius, from whose hands he had received in marriage Olympias, the
daughter of the præfect Ablavius; and the alliance of a female, who had
been educated as the destined wife of the emperor Constans, exalted the
dignity of a Barbarian king. 39 Tiranus professed the
Christian religion; he reigned over a nation of Christians; and he was
restrained, by every principle of conscience and interest, from
contributing to the victory, which would consummate the ruin of the
church. The alienated mind of Tiranus was exasperated by the indiscretion
of Julian, who treated the king of Armenia as his slave, and as the enemy
of the gods. The haughty and threatening style of the Imperial mandates 40
awakened the secret indignation of a prince, who, in the humiliating state
of dependence, was still conscious of his royal descent from the
Arsacides, the lords of the East, and the rivals of the Roman power. 4011
The military dispositions of Julian were skilfully contrived to deceive
the spies and to divert the attention of Sapor. The legions appeared to
direct their march towards Nisibis and the Tigris. On a sudden they
wheeled to the right; traversed the level and naked plain of Carrhæ; and
reached, on the third day, the banks of the Euphrates, where the strong
town of Nicephorium, or Callinicum, had been founded by the Macedonian
kings. From thence the emperor pursued his march, above ninety miles,
along the winding stream of the Euphrates, till, at length, about one
month after his departure from Antioch, he discovered the towers of
Circesium, 4012 the extreme limit of the Roman dominions.
The army of Julian, the most numerous that any of the Cæsars had ever led
against Persia, consisted of sixty-five thousand effective and
well-disciplined soldiers. The veteran bands of cavalry and infantry, of
Romans and Barbarians, had been selected from the different provinces; and
a just preëminence of loyalty and valor was claimed by the hardy Gauls,
who guarded the throne and person of their beloved prince. A formidable
body of Scythian auxiliaries had been transported from another climate,
and almost from another world, to invade a distant country, of whose name
and situation they were ignorant. The love of rapine and war allured to
the Imperial standard several tribes of Saracens, or roving Arabs, whose
service Julian had commanded, while he sternly refused the payment of the
accustomed subsidies. The broad channel of the Euphrates 41
was crowded by a fleet of eleven hundred ships, destined to attend the
motions, and to satisfy the wants, of the Roman army. The military
strength of the fleet was composed of fifty armed galleys; and these were
accompanied by an equal number of flat-bottomed boats, which might
occasionally be connected into the form of temporary bridges. The rest of
the ships, partly constructed of timber, and partly covered with raw
hides, were laden with an almost inexhaustible supply of arms and engines,
of utensils and provisions. The vigilant humanity of Julian had embarked a
very large magazine of vinegar and biscuit for the use of the soldiers,
but he prohibited the indulgence of wine; and rigorously stopped a long
string of superfluous camels that attempted to follow the rear of the
army. The River Chaboras falls into the Euphrates at Circesium; 42
and as soon as the trumpet gave the signal of march, the Romans passed the
little stream which separated two mighty and hostile empires. The custom
of ancient discipline required a military oration; and Julian embraced
every opportunity of displaying his eloquence. He animated the impatient
and attentive legions by the example of the inflexible courage and
glorious triumphs of their ancestors. He excited their resentment by a
lively picture of the insolence of the Persians; and he exhorted them to
imitate his firm resolution, either to extirpate that perfidious nation,
or to devote his life in the cause of the republic. The eloquence of
Julian was enforced by a donative of one hundred and thirty pieces of
silver to every soldier; and the bridge of the Chaboras was instantly cut
away, to convince the troops that they must place their hopes of safety in
the success of their arms. Yet the prudence of the emperor induced him to
secure a remote frontier, perpetually exposed to the inroads of the
hostile Arabs. A detachment of four thousand men was left at Circesium,
which completed, to the number of ten thousand, the regular garrison of
that important fortress. 43
From the moment that the Romans entered the enemy’s country, 44
the country of an active and artful enemy, the order of march was disposed
in three columns. 45 The strength of the infantry, and
consequently of the whole army was placed in the centre, under the
peculiar command of their master-general Victor. On the right, the brave
Nevitta led a column of several legions along the banks of the Euphrates,
and almost always in sight of the fleet. The left flank of the army was
protected by the column of cavalry. Hormisdas and Arinthæus were
appointed generals of the horse; and the singular adventures of Hormisdas
46
are not undeserving of our notice. He was a Persian prince, of the royal
race of the Sassanides, who, in the troubles of the minority of Sapor, had
escaped from prison to the hospitable court of the great Constantine.
Hormisdas at first excited the compassion, and at length acquired the
esteem, of his new masters; his valor and fidelity raised him to the
military honors of the Roman service; and though a Christian, he might
indulge the secret satisfaction of convincing his ungrateful country, that
an oppressed subject may prove the most dangerous enemy. Such was the
disposition of the three principal columns. The front and flanks of the
army were covered by Lucilianus with a flying detachment of fifteen
hundred light-armed soldiers, whose active vigilance observed the most
distant signs, and conveyed the earliest notice, of any hostile approach.
Dagalaiphus, and Secundinus duke of Osrhoene, conducted the troops of the
rear-guard; the baggage securely proceeded in the intervals of the
columns; and the ranks, from a motive either of use or ostentation, were
formed in such open order, that the whole line of march extended almost
ten miles. The ordinary post of Julian was at the head of the centre
column; but as he preferred the duties of a general to the state of a
monarch, he rapidly moved, with a small escort of light cavalry, to the
front, the rear, the flanks, wherever his presence could animate or
protect the march of the Roman army. The country which they traversed from
the Chaboras, to the cultivated lands of Assyria, may be considered as a
part of the desert of Arabia, a dry and barren waste, which could never be
improved by the most powerful arts of human industry. Julian marched over
the same ground which had been trod above seven hundred years before by
the footsteps of the younger Cyrus, and which is described by one of the
companions of his expedition, the sage and heroic Xenophon. 47
“The country was a plain throughout, as even as the sea, and full of
wormwood; and if any other kind of shrubs or reeds grew there, they had
all an aromatic smell, but no trees could be seen. Bustards and ostriches,
antelopes and wild asses, 48 appeared to be the only inhabitants of the
desert; and the fatigues of the march were alleviated by the amusements of
the chase.” The loose sand of the desert was frequently raised by the wind
into clouds of dust; and a great number of the soldiers of Julian, with
their tents, were suddenly thrown to the ground by the violence of an
unexpected hurricane.
The sandy plains of Mesopotamia were abandoned to the antelopes and wild
asses of the desert; but a variety of populous towns and villages were
pleasantly situated on the banks of the Euphrates, and in the islands
which are occasionally formed by that river. The city of Annah, or Anatho,
49
the actual residence of an Arabian emir, is composed of two long streets,
which enclose, within a natural fortification, a small island in the
midst, and two fruitful spots on either side, of the Euphrates. The
warlike inhabitants of Anatho showed a disposition to stop the march of a
Roman emperor; till they were diverted from such fatal presumption by the
mild exhortations of Prince Hormisdas, and the approaching terrors of the
fleet and army. They implored, and experienced, the clemency of Julian,
who transplanted the people to an advantageous settlement, near Chalcis in
Syria, and admitted Pusæus, the governor, to an honorable rank in his
service and friendship. But the impregnable fortress of Thilutha could
scorn the menace of a siege; and the emperor was obliged to content
himself with an insulting promise, that, when he had subdued the interior
provinces of Persia, Thilutha would no longer refuse to grace the triumph
of the emperor. The inhabitants of the open towns, unable to resist, and
unwilling to yield, fled with precipitation; and their houses, filled with
spoil and provisions, were occupied by the soldiers of Julian, who
massacred, without remorse and without punishment, some defenceless women.
During the march, the Surenas, 4911 or Persian
general, and Malek Rodosaces, the renowned emir of the tribe of Gassan, 50
incessantly hovered round the army; every straggler was intercepted; every
detachment was attacked; and the valiant Hormisdas escaped with some
difficulty from their hands. But the Barbarians were finally repulsed; the
country became every day less favorable to the operations of cavalry; and
when the Romans arrived at Macepracta, they perceived the ruins of the
wall, which had been constructed by the ancient kings of Assyria, to
secure their dominions from the incursions of the Medes. These
preliminaries of the expedition of Julian appear to have employed about
fifteen days; and we may compute near three hundred miles from the
fortress of Circesium to the wall of Macepracta. 51
The fertile province of Assyria, 52 which stretched
beyond the Tigris, as far as the mountains of Media, 53
extended about four hundred miles from the ancient wall of Macepracta, to
the territory of Basra, where the united streams of the Euphrates and
Tigris discharge themselves into the Persian Gulf. 54 The whole country
might have claimed the peculiar name of Mesopotamia; as the two rivers,
which are never more distant than fifty, approach, between Bagdad and
Babylon, within twenty-five miles, of each other. A multitude of
artificial canals, dug without much labor in a soft and yielding soil
connected the rivers, and intersected the plain of Assyria. The uses of
these artificial canals were various and important. They served to
discharge the superfluous waters from one river into the other, at the
season of their respective inundations. Subdividing themselves into
smaller and smaller branches, they refreshed the dry lands, and supplied
the deficiency of rain. They facilitated the intercourse of peace and
commerce; and, as the dams could be speedily broke down, they armed the
despair of the Assyrians with the means of opposing a sudden deluge to the
progress of an invading army. To the soil and climate of Assyria, nature
had denied some of her choicest gifts, the vine, the olive, and the
fig-tree; 5411 but the food which supports the life of
man, and particularly wheat and barley, were produced with inexhaustible
fertility; and the husbandman, who committed his seed to the earth, was
frequently rewarded with an increase of two, or even of three, hundred.
The face of the country was interspersed with groves of innumerable
palm-trees; 55 and the diligent natives celebrated, either
in verse or prose, the three hundred and sixty uses to which the trunk,
the branches, the leaves, the juice, and the fruit, were skilfully
applied. Several manufactures, especially those of leather and linen,
employed the industry of a numerous people, and afforded valuable
materials for foreign trade; which appears, however, to have been
conducted by the hands of strangers. Babylon had been converted into a
royal park; but near the ruins of the ancient capital, new cities had
successively arisen, and the populousness of the country was displayed in
the multitude of towns and villages, which were built of bricks dried in
the sun, and strongly cemented with bitumen; the natural and peculiar
production of the Babylonian soil. While the successors of Cyrus reigned
over Asia, the province of Syria alone maintained, during a third part of
the year, the luxurious plenty of the table and household of the Great
King. Four considerable villages were assigned for the subsistence of his
Indian dogs; eight hundred stallions, and sixteen thousand mares, were
constantly kept, at the expense of the country, for the royal stables; and
as the daily tribute, which was paid to the satrap, amounted to one
English bushe of silver, we may compute the annual revenue of Assyria at
more than twelve hundred thousand pounds sterling. 56
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.—Part III.
The fields of Assyria were devoted by Julian to the calamities of war; and
the philosopher retaliated on a guiltless people the acts of rapine and
cruelty which had been committed by their haughty master in the Roman
provinces. The trembling Assyrians summoned the rivers to their
assistance; and completed, with their own hands, the ruin of their
country. The roads were rendered impracticable; a flood of waters was
poured into the camp; and, during several days, the troops of Julian were
obliged to contend with the most discouraging hardships. But every
obstacle was surmounted by the perseverance of the legionaries, who were
inured to toil as well as to danger, and who felt themselves animated by
the spirit of their leader. The damage was gradually repaired; the waters
were restored to their proper channels; whole groves of palm-trees were
cut down, and placed along the broken parts of the road; and the army
passed over the broad and deeper canals, on bridges of floating rafts,
which were supported by the help of bladders. Two cities of Assyria
presumed to resist the arms of a Roman emperor: and they both paid the
severe penalty of their rashness. At the distance of fifty miles from the
royal residence of Ctesiphon, Perisabor, 5711 or Anbar, held
the second rank in the province; a city, large, populous, and well
fortified, surrounded with a double wall, almost encompassed by a branch
of the Euphrates, and defended by the valor of a numerous garrison. The
exhortations of Hormisdas were repulsed with contempt; and the ears of the
Persian prince were wounded by a just reproach, that, unmindful of his
royal birth, he conducted an army of strangers against his king and
country. The Assyrians maintained their loyalty by a skilful, as well as
vigorous, defence; till the lucky stroke of a battering-ram, having opened
a large breach, by shattering one of the angles of the wall, they hastily
retired into the fortifications of the interior citadel. The soldiers of
Julian rushed impetuously into the town, and after the full gratification
of every military appetite, Perisabor was reduced to ashes; and the
engines which assaulted the citadel were planted on the ruins of the
smoking houses. The contest was continued by an incessant and mutual
discharge of missile weapons; and the superiority which the Romans might
derive from the mechanical powers of their balistæ and catapultæ was
counterbalanced by the advantage of the ground on the side of the
besieged. But as soon as an Helepolis had been constructed, which could
engage on equal terms with the loftiest ramparts, the tremendous aspect of
a moving turret, that would leave no hope of resistance or mercy,
terrified the defenders of the citadel into an humble submission; and the
place was surrendered only two days after Julian first appeared under the
walls of Perisabor. Two thousand five hundred persons, of both sexes, the
feeble remnant of a flourishing people, were permitted to retire; the
plentiful magazines of corn, of arms, and of splendid furniture, were
partly distributed among the troops, and partly reserved for the public
service; the useless stores were destroyed by fire or thrown into the
stream of the Euphrates; and the fate of Amida was revenged by the total
ruin of Perisabor.
The city or rather fortress, of Maogamalcha, which was defended by sixteen
large towers, a deep ditch, and two strong and solid walls of brick and
bitumen, appears to have been constructed at the distance of eleven miles,
as the safeguard of the capital of Persia. The emperor, apprehensive of
leaving such an important fortress in his rear, immediately formed the
siege of Maogamalcha; and the Roman army was distributed, for that
purpose, into three divisions. Victor, at the head of the cavalry, and of
a detachment of heavy-armed foot, was ordered to clear the country, as far
as the banks of the Tigris, and the suburbs of Ctesiphon. The conduct of
the attack was assumed by Julian himself, who seemed to place his whole
dependence in the military engines which he erected against the walls;
while he secretly contrived a more efficacious method of introducing his
troops into the heart of the city. Under the direction of Nevitta and
Dagalaiphus, the trenches were opened at a considerable distance, and
gradually prolonged as far as the edge of the ditch. The ditch was
speedily filled with earth; and, by the incessant labor of the troops, a
mine was carried under the foundations of the walls, and sustained, at
sufficient intervals, by props of timber. Three chosen cohorts, advancing
in a single file, silently explored the dark and dangerous passage; till
their intrepid leader whispered back the intelligence, that he was ready
to issue from his confinement into the streets of the hostile city. Julian
checked their ardor, that he might insure their success; and immediately
diverted the attention of the garrison, by the tumult and clamor of a
general assault. The Persians, who, from their walls, contemptuously
beheld the progress of an impotent attack, celebrated with songs of
triumph the glory of Sapor; and ventured to assure the emperor, that he
might ascend the starry mansion of Ormusd, before he could hope to take
the impregnable city of Maogamalcha. The city was already taken. History
has recorded the name of a private soldier the first who ascended from the
mine into a deserted tower. The passage was widened by his companions, who
pressed forwards with impatient valor. Fifteen hundred enemies were
already in the midst of the city. The astonished garrison abandoned the
walls, and their only hope of safety; the gates were instantly burst open;
and the revenge of the soldier, unless it were suspended by lust or
avarice, was satiated by an undistinguishing massacre. The governor, who
had yielded on a promise of mercy, was burnt alive, a few days afterwards,
on a charge of having uttered some disrespectful words against the honor
of Prince Hormisdas. The fortifications were razed to the ground; and not
a vestige was left, that the city of Maogamalcha had ever existed. The
neighborhood of the capital of Persia was adorned with three stately
palaces, laboriously enriched with every production that could gratify the
luxury and pride of an Eastern monarch. The pleasant situation of the
gardens along the banks of the Tigris, was improved, according to the
Persian taste, by the symmetry of flowers, fountains, and shady walks: and
spacious parks were enclosed for the reception of the bears, lions, and
wild boars, which were maintained at a considerable expense for the
pleasure of the royal chase. The park walls were broken down, the savage
game was abandoned to the darts of the soldiers, and the palaces of Sapor
were reduced to ashes, by the command of the Roman emperor. Julian, on
this occasion, showed himself ignorant, or careless, of the laws of
civility, which the prudence and refinement of polished ages have
established between hostile princes. Yet these wanton ravages need not
excite in our breasts any vehement emotions of pity or resentment. A
simple, naked statue, finished by the hand of a Grecian artist, is of more
genuine value than all these rude and costly monuments of Barbaric labor;
and, if we are more deeply affected by the ruin of a palace than by the
conflagration of a cottage, our humanity must have formed a very erroneous
estimate of the miseries of human life. 57
Julian was an object of hatred and terror to the Persian and the painters
of that nation represented the invader of their country under the emblem
of a furious lion, who vomited from his mouth a consuming fire. 58
To his friends and soldiers the philosophic hero appeared in a more
amiable light; and his virtues were never more conspicuously displayed,
than in the last and most active period of his life. He practised, without
effort, and almost without merit, the habitual qualities of temperance and
sobriety. According to the dictates of that artificial wisdom, which
assumes an absolute dominion over the mind and body, he sternly refused
himself the indulgence of the most natural appetites. 59
In the warm climate of Assyria, which solicited a luxurious people to the
gratification of every sensual desire, 60 a youthful conqueror
preserved his chastity pure and inviolate; nor was Julian ever tempted,
even by a motive of curiosity, to visit his female captives of exquisite
beauty, 61 who, instead of resisting his power, would
have disputed with each other the honor of his embraces. With the same
firmness that he resisted the allurements of love, he sustained the
hardships of war. When the Romans marched through the flat and flooded
country, their sovereign, on foot, at the head of his legions, shared
their fatigues and animated their diligence. In every useful labor, the
hand of Julian was prompt and strenuous; and the Imperial purple was wet
and dirty as the coarse garment of the meanest soldier. The two sieges
allowed him some remarkable opportunities of signalizing his personal
valor, which, in the improved state of the military art, can seldom be
exerted by a prudent general. The emperor stood before
the citadel of Perisabor, insensible of his extreme danger, and encouraged
his troops to burst open the gates of iron, till he was almost overwhelmed
under a cloud of missile weapons and huge stones, that were directed
against his person. As he examined the exterior fortifications of
Maogamalcha, two Persians, devoting themselves for their country, suddenly
rushed upon him with drawn cimeters: the emperor dexterously received
their blows on his uplifted shield; and, with a steady and well-aimed
thrust, laid one of his adversaries dead at his feet. The esteem of a
prince who possesses the virtues which he approves, is the noblest
recompense of a deserving subject; and the authority which Julian derived
from his personal merit, enabled him to revive and enforce the rigor of
ancient discipline. He punished with death or ignominy the misbehavior of
three troops of horse, who, in a skirmish with the Surenas, had lost their
honor and one of their standards: and he distinguished with obsidional 62
crowns the valor of the foremost soldiers, who had ascended into the city
of Maogamalcha.
After the siege of Perisabor, the firmness of the emperor was exercised by
the insolent avarice of the army, who loudly complained, that their
services were rewarded by a trifling donative of one hundred pieces of
silver. His just indignation was expressed in the grave and manly language
of a Roman. “Riches are the object of your desires; those riches are in
the hands of the Persians; and the spoils of this fruitful country are
proposed as the prize of your valor and discipline. Believe me,” added
Julian, “the Roman republic, which formerly possessed such immense
treasures, is now reduced to want and wretchedness once our princes have
been persuaded, by weak and interested ministers, to purchase with gold
the tranquillity of the Barbarians. The revenue is exhausted; the cities
are ruined; the provinces are dispeopled. For myself, the only inheritance
that I have received from my royal ancestors is a soul incapable of fear;
and as long as I am convinced that every real advantage is seated in the
mind, I shall not blush to acknowledge an honorable poverty, which, in the
days of ancient virtue, was considered as the glory of Fabricius. That
glory, and that virtue, may be your own, if you will listen to the voice
of Heaven and of your leader. But if you will rashly persist, if you are
determined to renew the shameful and mischievous examples of old
seditions, proceed. As it becomes an emperor who has filled the first rank
among men, I am prepared to die, standing; and to despise a precarious
life, which, every hour, may depend on an accidental fever. If I have been
found unworthy of the command, there are now among you, (I speak it with
pride and pleasure,) there are many chiefs whose merit and experience are
equal to the conduct of the most important war. Such has been the temper
of my reign, that I can retire, without regret, and without apprehension,
to the obscurity of a private station” 63 The modest resolution
of Julian was answered by the unanimous applause and cheerful obedience of
the Romans, who declared their confidence of victory, while they fought
under the banners of their heroic prince. Their courage was kindled by his
frequent and familiar asseverations, (for such wishes were the oaths of
Julian,) “So may I reduce the Persians under the yoke!” “Thus may I
restore the strength and splendor of the republic!” The love of fame was
the ardent passion of his soul: but it was not before he trampled on the
ruins of Maogamalcha, that he allowed himself to say, “We have now
provided some materials for the sophist of Antioch.” 64
The successful valor of Julian had triumphed over all the obstacles that
opposed his march to the gates of Ctesiphon. But the reduction, or even
the siege, of the capital of Persia, was still at a distance: nor can the
military conduct of the emperor be clearly apprehended, without a
knowledge of the country which was the theatre of his bold and skilful
operations. 65 Twenty miles to the south of Bagdad, and on
the eastern bank of the Tigris, the curiosity of travellers has observed
some ruins of the palaces of Ctesiphon, which, in the time of Julian, was
a great and populous city. The name and glory of the adjacent Seleucia
were forever extinguished; and the only remaining quarter of that Greek
colony had resumed, with the Assyrian language and manners, the primitive
appellation of Coche. Coche was situate on the western side of the Tigris;
but it was naturally considered as a suburb of Ctesiphon, with which we
may suppose it to have been connected by a permanent bridge of boats.
The united parts contribute to form the common epithet of Al Modain, the
cities, which the Orientals have bestowed on the winter residence of the
Sassinadees; and the whole circumference of the Persian capital was
strongly fortified by the waters of the river, by lofty walls, and by
impracticable morasses. Near the ruins of Seleucia, the camp of Julian was
fixed, and secured, by a ditch and rampart, against the sallies of the
numerous and enterprising garrison of Coche. In this fruitful and pleasant
country, the Romans were plentifully supplied with water and forage: and
several forts, which might have embarrassed the motions of the army,
submitted, after some resistance, to the efforts of their valor. The fleet
passed from the Euphrates into an artificial derivation of that river,
which pours a copious and navigable stream into the Tigris, at a small
distance below the great city. If they had followed this royal canal,
which bore the name of Nahar-Malcha, 66 the intermediate
situation of Coche would have separated the fleet and army of Julian; and
the rash attempt of steering against the current of the Tigris, and
forcing their way through the midst of a hostile capital, must have been
attended with the total destruction of the Roman navy. The prudence of the
emperor foresaw the danger, and provided the remedy. As he had minutely
studied the operations of Trajan in the same country, he soon recollected
that his warlike predecessor had dug a new and navigable canal, which,
leaving Coche on the right hand, conveyed the waters of the Nahar-Malcha
into the river Tigris, at some distance above the cities. From the
information of the peasants, Julian ascertained the vestiges of this
ancient work, which were almost obliterated by design or accident. By the
indefatigable labor of the soldiers, a broad and deep channel was speedily
prepared for the reception of the Euphrates. A strong dike was constructed
to interrupt the ordinary current of the Nahar-Malcha: a flood of waters
rushed impetuously into their new bed; and the Roman fleet, steering their
triumphant course into the Tigris, derided the vain and ineffectual
barriers which the Persians of Ctesiphon had erected to oppose their
passage.
As it became necessary to transport the Roman army over the Tigris,
another labor presented itself, of less toil, but of more danger, than the
preceding expedition. The stream was broad and rapid; the ascent steep and
difficult; and the intrenchments which had been formed on the ridge of the
opposite bank, were lined with a numerous army of heavy cuirrasiers,
dexterous archers, and huge elephants; who (according to the extravagant
hyperbole of Libanius) could trample with the same ease a field of corn,
or a legion of Romans. 67 In the presence of such an enemy, the
construction of a bridge was impracticable; and the intrepid prince, who
instantly seized the only possible expedient, concealed his design, till
the moment of execution, from the knowledge of the Barbarians, of his own
troops, and even of his generals themselves. Under the specious pretence
of examining the state of the magazines, fourscore vessels 6711
were gradually unladen; and a select detachment, apparently destined for
some secret expedition, was ordered to stand to their arms on the first
signal. Julian disguised the silent anxiety of his own mind with smiles of
confidence and joy; and amused the hostile nations with the spectacle of
military games, which he insultingly celebrated under the walls of Coche.
The day was consecrated to pleasure; but, as soon as the hour of supper
was passed, the emperor summoned the generals to his tent, and acquainted
them that he had fixed that night for the passage of the Tigris. They
stood in silent and respectful astonishment; but, when the venerable
Sallust assumed the privilege of his age and experience, the rest of the
chiefs supported with freedom the weight of his prudent remonstrances. 68
Julian contented himself with observing, that conquest and safety depended
on the attempt; that instead of diminishing, the number of their enemies
would be increased, by successive reenforcements; and that a longer delay
would neither contract the breadth of the stream, nor level the height of
the bank. The signal was instantly given, and obeyed; the most impatient
of the legionaries leaped into five vessels that lay nearest to the bank;
and as they plied their oars with intrepid diligence, they were lost,
after a few moments, in the darkness of the night. A flame arose on the
opposite side; and Julian, who too clearly understood that his foremost
vessels, in attempting to land, had been fired by the enemy, dexterously
converted their extreme danger into a presage of victory. “Our
fellow-soldiers,” he eagerly exclaimed, “are already masters of the bank;
see—they make the appointed signal; let us hasten to emulate and
assist their courage.” The united and rapid motion of a great fleet broke
the violence of the current, and they reached the eastern shore of the
Tigris with sufficient speed to extinguish the flames, and rescue their
adventurous companions. The difficulties of a steep and lofty ascent were
increased by the weight of armor, and the darkness of the night. A shower
of stones, darts, and fire, was incessantly discharged on the heads of the
assailants; who, after an arduous struggle, climbed the bank and stood
victorious upon the rampart. As soon as they possessed a more equal field,
Julian, who, with his light infantry, had led the attack, 69
darted through the ranks a skilful and experienced eye: his bravest
soldiers, according to the precepts of Homer, 70 were distributed in
the front and rear: and all the trumpets of the Imperial army sounded to
battle. The Romans, after sending up a military shout, advanced in
measured steps to the animating notes of martial music; launched their
formidable javelins; and rushed forwards with drawn swords, to deprive the
Barbarians, by a closer onset, of the advantage of their missile weapons.
The whole engagement lasted above twelve hours; till the gradual retreat
of the Persians was changed into a disorderly flight, of which the
shameful example was given by the principal leader, and the Surenas
himself. They were pursued to the gates of Ctesiphon; and the conquerors
might have entered the dismayed city, 71 if their general,
Victor, who was dangerously wounded with an arrow, had not conjured them
to desist from a rash attempt, which must be fatal, if it were not
successful. On their side, the Romans acknowledged the loss of only
seventy-five men; while they affirmed, that the Barbarians had left on the
field of battle two thousand five hundred, or even six thousand, of their
bravest soldiers. The spoil was such as might be expected from the riches
and luxury of an Oriental camp; large quantities of silver and gold,
splendid arms and trappings, and beds and tables of massy silver. 7111
The victorious emperor distributed, as the rewards of valor, some
honorable gifts, civic, and mural, and naval crowns; which he, and perhaps
he alone, esteemed more precious than the wealth of Asia. A solemn
sacrifice was offered to the god of war, but the appearances of the
victims threatened the most inauspicious events; and Julian soon
discovered, by less ambiguous signs, that he had now reached the term of
his prosperity. 72
On the second day after the battle, the domestic guards, the Jovians and
Herculians, and the remaining troops, which composed near two thirds of
the whole army, were securely wafted over the Tigris. 73
While the Persians beheld from the walls of Ctesiphon the desolation of
the adjacent country, Julian cast many an anxious look towards the North,
in full expectation, that as he himself had victoriously penetrated to the
capital of Sapor, the march and junction of his lieutenants, Sebastian and
Procopius, would be executed with the same courage and diligence. His
expectations were disappointed by the treachery of the Armenian king, who
permitted, and most probably directed, the desertion of his auxiliary
troops from the camp of the Romans; 74 and by the
dissensions of the two generals, who were incapable of forming or
executing any plan for the public service. When the emperor had
relinquished the hope of this important reenforcement, he condescended to
hold a council of war, and approved, after a full debate, the sentiment of
those generals, who dissuaded the siege of Ctesiphon, as a fruitless and
pernicious undertaking. It is not easy for us to conceive, by what arts of
fortification a city thrice besieged and taken by the predecessors of
Julian could be rendered impregnable against an army of sixty thousand
Romans, commanded by a brave and experienced general, and abundantly
supplied with ships, provisions, battering engines, and military stores.
But we may rest assured, from the love of glory, and contempt of danger,
which formed the character of Julian, that he was not discouraged by any
trivial or imaginary obstacles. 75 At the very time when
he declined the siege of Ctesiphon, he rejected, with obstinacy and
disdain, the most flattering offers of a negotiation of peace. Sapor, who
had been so long accustomed to the tardy ostentation of Constantius, was
surprised by the intrepid diligence of his successor. As far as the
confines of India and Scythia, the satraps of the distant provinces were
ordered to assemble their troops, and to march, without delay, to the
assistance of their monarch. But their preparations were dilatory, their
motions slow; and before Sapor could lead an army into the field, he
received the melancholy intelligence of the devastation of Assyria, the
ruin of his palaces, and the slaughter of his bravest troops, who defended
the passage of the Tigris. The pride of royalty was humbled in the dust;
he took his repasts on the ground; and the disorder of his hair expressed
the grief and anxiety of his mind. Perhaps he would not have refused to
purchase, with one half of his kingdom, the safety of the remainder; and
he would have gladly subscribed himself, in a treaty of peace, the
faithful and dependent ally of the Roman conqueror. Under the pretence of
private business, a minister of rank and confidence was secretly
despatched to embrace the knees of Hormisdas, and to request, in the
language of a suppliant, that he might be introduced into the presence of
the emperor. The Sassanian prince, whether he listened to the voice of
pride or humanity, whether he consulted the sentiments of his birth, or
the duties of his situation, was equally inclined to promote a salutary
measure, which would terminate the calamities of Persia, and secure the
triumph of Rome. He was astonished by the inflexible firmness of a hero,
who remembered, most unfortunately for himself and for his country, that
Alexander had uniformly rejected the propositions of Darius. But as Julian
was sensible, that the hope of a safe and honorable peace might cool the
ardor of his troops, he earnestly requested that Hormisdas would privately
dismiss the minister of Sapor, and conceal this dangerous temptation from
the knowledge of the camp. 76
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.—Part IV.
The honor, as well as interest, of Julian, forbade him to consume his time
under the impregnable walls of Ctesiphon and as often as he defied the
Barbarians, who defended the city, to meet him on the open plain, they
prudently replied, that if he desired to exercise his valor, he might seek
the army of the Great King. He felt the insult, and he accepted the
advice. Instead of confining his servile march to the banks of the
Euphrates and Tigris, he resolved to imitate the adventurous spirit of
Alexander, and boldly to advance into the inland provinces, till he forced
his rival to contend with him, perhaps in the plains of Arbela, for the
empire of Asia. The magnanimity of Julian was applauded and betrayed, by
the arts of a noble Persian, who, in the cause of his country, had
generously submitted to act a part full of danger, of falsehood, and of
shame. 77 With a train of faithful followers, he
deserted to the Imperial camp; exposed, in a specious tale, the injuries
which he had sustained; exaggerated the cruelty of Sapor, the discontent
of the people, and the weakness of the monarchy; and confidently offered
himself as the hostage and guide of the Roman march. The most rational
grounds of suspicion were urged, without effect, by the wisdom and
experience of Hormisdas; and the credulous Julian, receiving the traitor
into his bosom, was persuaded to issue a hasty order, which, in the
opinion of mankind, appeared to arraign his prudence, and to endanger his
safety. He destroyed, in a single hour, the whole navy, which had been
transported above five hundred miles, at so great an expense of toil, of
treasure, and of blood. Twelve, or, at the most, twenty-two small vessels
were saved, to accompany, on carriages, the march of the army, and to form
occasional bridges for the passage of the rivers. A supply of twenty days’
provisions was reserved for the use of the soldiers; and the rest of the
magazines, with a fleet of eleven hundred vessels, which rode at anchor in
the Tigris, were abandoned to the flames, by the absolute command of the
emperor. The Christian bishops, Gregory and Augustin, insult the madness
of the Apostate, who executed, with his own hands, the sentence of divine
justice. Their authority, of less weight, perhaps, in a military question,
is confirmed by the cool judgment of an experienced soldier, who was
himself spectator of the conflagration, and who could not disapprove the
reluctant murmurs of the troops. 78 Yet there are not
wanting some specious, and perhaps solid, reasons, which might justify the
resolution of Julian. The navigation of the Euphrates never ascended above
Babylon, nor that of the Tigris above Opis. 79 The distance of the
last-mentioned city from the Roman camp was not very considerable: and
Julian must soon have renounced the vain and impracticable attempt of
forcing upwards a great fleet against the stream of a rapid river, 80
which in several places was embarrassed by natural or artificial
cataracts. 81 The power of sails and oars was insufficient;
it became necessary to tow the ships against the current of the river; the
strength of twenty thousand soldiers was exhausted in this tedious and
servile labor, and if the Romans continued to march along the banks of the
Tigris, they could only expect to return home without achieving any
enterprise worthy of the genius or fortune of their leader. If, on the
contrary, it was advisable to advance into the inland country, the
destruction of the fleet and magazines was the only measure which could
save that valuable prize from the hands of the numerous and active troops
which might suddenly be poured from the gates of Ctesiphon. Had the arms
of Julian been victorious, we should now admire the conduct, as well as
the courage, of a hero, who, by depriving his soldiers of the hopes of a
retreat, left them only the alternative of death or conquest. 82
The cumbersome train of artillery and wagons, which retards the operations
of a modern army, were in a great measure unknown in the camps of the
Romans. 83 Yet, in every age, the subsistence of sixty
thousand men must have been one of the most important cares of a prudent
general; and that subsistence could only be drawn from his own or from the
enemy’s country. Had it been possible for Julian to maintain a bridge of
communication on the Tigris, and to preserve the conquered places of
Assyria, a desolated province could not afford any large or regular
supplies, in a season of the year when the lands were covered by the
inundation of the Euphrates, 84 and the unwholesome
air was darkened with swarms of innumerable insects. 85
The appearance of the hostile country was far more inviting. The extensive
region that lies between the River Tigris and the mountains of Media, was
filled with villages and towns; and the fertile soil, for the most part,
was in a very improved state of cultivation. Julian might expect, that a
conqueror, who possessed the two forcible instruments of persuasion, steel
and gold, would easily procure a plentiful subsistence from the fears or
avarice of the natives. But, on the approach of the Romans, the rich and
smiling prospect was instantly blasted. Wherever they moved, the
inhabitants deserted the open villages, and took shelter in the fortified
towns; the cattle was driven away; the grass and ripe corn were consumed
with fire; and, as soon as the flames had subsided which interrupted the
march of Julian, he beheld the melancholy face of a smoking and naked
desert. This desperate but effectual method of defence can only be
executed by the enthusiasm of a people who prefer their independence to
their property; or by the rigor of an arbitrary government, which consults
the public safety without submitting to their inclinations the liberty of
choice. On the present occasion the zeal and obedience of the Persians
seconded the commands of Sapor; and the emperor was soon reduced to the
scanty stock of provisions, which continually wasted in his hands. Before
they were entirely consumed, he might still have reached the wealthy and
unwarlike cities of Ecbatana or Susa, by the effort of a rapid and
well-directed march; 86 but he was deprived of this last resource by
his ignorance of the roads, and by the perfidy of his guides. The Romans
wandered several days in the country to the eastward of Bagdad; the
Persian deserter, who had artfully led them into the snare, escaped from
their resentment; and his followers, as soon as they were put to the
torture, confessed the secret of the conspiracy. The visionary conquests
of Hyrcania and India, which had so long amused, now tormented, the mind
of Julian. Conscious that his own imprudence was the cause of the public
distress, he anxiously balanced the hopes of safety or success, without
obtaining a satisfactory answer, either from gods or men. At length, as
the only practicable measure, he embraced the resolution of directing his
steps towards the banks of the Tigris, with the design of saving the army
by a hasty march to the confines of Corduene; a fertile and friendly
province, which acknowledged the sovereignty of Rome. The desponding
troops obeyed the signal of the retreat, only seventy days after they had
passed the Chaboras, with the sanguine expectation of subverting the
throne of Persia. 87
As long as the Romans seemed to advance into the country, their march was
observed and insulted from a distance, by several bodies of Persian
cavalry; who, showing themselves sometimes in loose, and sometimes in
close order, faintly skirmished with the advanced guards. These
detachments were, however, supported by a much greater force; and the
heads of the columns were no sooner pointed towards the Tigris than a
cloud of dust arose on the plain. The Romans, who now aspired only to the
permission of a safe and speedy retreat, endeavored to persuade
themselves, that this formidable appearance was occasioned by a troop of
wild asses, or perhaps by the approach of some friendly Arabs. They
halted, pitched their tents, fortified their camp, passed the whole night
in continual alarms; and discovered at the dawn of day, that they were
surrounded by an army of Persians. This army, which might be considered
only as the van of the Barbarians, was soon followed by the main body of
cuirassiers, archers, and elephants, commanded by Meranes, a general of
rank and reputation. He was accompanied by two of the king’s sons, and
many of the principal satraps; and fame and expectation exaggerated the
strength of the remaining powers, which slowly advanced under the conduct
of Sapor himself. As the Romans continued their march, their long array,
which was forced to bend or divide, according to the varieties of the
ground, afforded frequent and favorable opportunities to their vigilant
enemies. The Persians repeatedly charged with fury; they were repeatedly
repulsed with firmness; and the action at Maronga, which almost deserved
the name of a battle, was marked by a considerable loss of satraps and
elephants, perhaps of equal value in the eyes of their monarch. These
splendid advantages were not obtained without an adequate slaughter on the
side of the Romans: several officers of distinction were either killed or
wounded; and the emperor himself, who, on all occasions of danger,
inspired and guided the valor of his troops, was obliged to expose his
person, and exert his abilities. The weight of offensive and defensive
arms, which still constituted the strength and safety of the Romans,
disabled them from making any long or effectual pursuit; and as the
horsemen of the East were trained to dart their javelins, and shoot their
arrows, at full speed, and in every possible direction, 88
the cavalry of Persia was never more formidable than in the moment of a
rapid and disorderly flight. But the most certain and irreparable loss of
the Romans was that of time. The hardy veterans, accustomed to the cold
climate of Gaul and Germany, fainted under the sultry heat of an Assyrian
summer; their vigor was exhausted by the incessant repetition of march and
combat; and the progress of the army was suspended by the precautions of a
slow and dangerous retreat, in the presence of an active enemy. Every day,
every hour, as the supply diminished, the value and price of subsistence
increased in the Roman camp. 89 Julian, who always
contented himself with such food as a hungry soldier would have disdained,
distributed, for the use of the troops, the provisions of the Imperial
household, and whatever could be spared, from the sumpter-horses, of the
tribunes and generals. But this feeble relief served only to aggravate the
sense of the public distress; and the Romans began to entertain the most
gloomy apprehensions that, before they could reach the frontiers of the
empire, they should all perish, either by famine, or by the sword of the
Barbarians. 90
While Julian struggled with the almost insuperable difficulties of his
situation, the silent hours of the night were still devoted to study and
contemplation. Whenever he closed his eyes in short and interrupted
slumbers, his mind was agitated with painful anxiety; nor can it be
thought surprising, that the Genius of the empire should once more appear
before him, covering with a funeral veil his head, and his horn of
abundance, and slowly retiring from the Imperial tent. The monarch started
from his couch, and stepping forth to refresh his wearied spirits with the
coolness of the midnight air, he beheld a fiery meteor, which shot athwart
the sky, and suddenly vanished. Julian was convinced that he had seen the
menacing countenance of the god of war; 91 the council which he
summoned, of Tuscan Haruspices, 92 unanimously
pronounced that he should abstain from action; but on this occasion,
necessity and reason were more prevalent than superstition; and the
trumpets sounded at the break of day. The army marched through a hilly
country; and the hills had been secretly occupied by the Persians. Julian
led the van with the skill and attention of a consummate general; he was
alarmed by the intelligence that his rear was suddenly attacked. The heat
of the weather had tempted him to lay aside his cuirass; but he snatched a
shield from one of his attendants, and hastened, with a sufficient
reenforcement, to the relief of the rear-guard. A similar danger recalled
the intrepid prince to the defence of the front; and, as he galloped
through the columns, the centre of the left was attacked, and almost
overpowered by the furious charge of the Persian cavalry and elephants.
This huge body was soon defeated, by the well-timed evolution of the light
infantry, who aimed their weapons, with dexterity and effect, against the
backs of the horsemen, and the legs of the elephants. The Barbarians fled;
and Julian, who was foremost in every danger, animated the pursuit with
his voice and gestures. His trembling guards, scattered and oppressed by
the disorderly throng of friends and enemies, reminded their fearless
sovereign that he was without armor; and conjured him to decline the fall
of the impending ruin. As they exclaimed, 93 a cloud of darts and
arrows was discharged from the flying squadrons; and a javelin, after
razing the skin of his arm, transpierced the ribs, and fixed in the
inferior part of the liver. Julian attempted to draw the deadly weapon
from his side; but his fingers were cut by the sharpness of the steel, and
he fell senseless from his horse. His guards flew to his relief; and the
wounded emperor was gently raised from the ground, and conveyed out of the
tumult of the battle into an adjacent tent. The report of the melancholy
event passed from rank to rank; but the grief of the Romans inspired them
with invincible valor, and the desire of revenge. The bloody and obstinate
conflict was maintained by the two armies, till they were separated by the
total darkness of the night. The Persians derived some honor from the
advantage which they obtained against the left wing, where Anatolius,
master of the offices, was slain, and the præfect Sallust very narrowly
escaped. But the event of the day was adverse to the Barbarians. They
abandoned the field; their two generals, Meranes and Nohordates, 94
fifty nobles or satraps, and a multitude of their bravest soldiers; and
the success of the Romans, if Julian had survived, might have been
improved into a decisive and useful victory.
The first words that Julian uttered, after his recovery from the fainting
fit into which he had been thrown by loss of blood, were expressive of his
martial spirit. He called for his horse and arms, and was impatient to
rush into the battle. His remaining strength was exhausted by the painful
effort; and the surgeons, who examined his wound, discovered the symptoms
of approaching death. He employed the awful moments with the firm temper
of a hero and a sage; the philosophers who had accompanied him in this
fatal expedition, compared the tent of Julian with the prison of Socrates;
and the spectators, whom duty, or friendship, or curiosity, had assembled
round his couch, listened with respectful grief to the funeral oration of
their dying emperor. 95 “Friends and fellow-soldiers, the seasonable
period of my departure is now arrived, and I discharge, with the
cheerfulness of a ready debtor, the demands of nature. I have learned from
philosophy, how much the soul is more excellent than the body; and that
the separation of the nobler substance should be the subject of joy,
rather than of affliction. I have learned from religion, that an early
death has often been the reward of piety; 96 and I accept, as a
favor of the gods, the mortal stroke that secures me from the danger of
disgracing a character, which has hitherto been supported by virtue and
fortitude. I die without remorse, as I have lived without guilt. I am
pleased to reflect on the innocence of my private life; and I can affirm
with confidence, that the supreme authority, that emanation of the Divine
Power, has been preserved in my hands pure and immaculate. Detesting the
corrupt and destructive maxims of despotism, I have considered the
happiness of the people as the end of government. Submitting my actions to
the laws of prudence, of justice, and of moderation, I have trusted the
event to the care of Providence. Peace was the object of my counsels, as
long as peace was consistent with the public welfare; but when the
imperious voice of my country summoned me to arms, I exposed my person to
the dangers of war, with the clear foreknowledge (which I had acquired
from the art of divination) that I was destined to fall by the sword. I
now offer my tribute of gratitude to the Eternal Being, who has not
suffered me to perish by the cruelty of a tyrant, by the secret dagger of
conspiracy, or by the slow tortures of lingering disease. He has given me,
in the midst of an honorable career, a splendid and glorious departure
from this world; and I hold it equally absurd, equally base, to solicit,
or to decline, the stroke of fate. This much I have attempted to say; but
my strength fails me, and I feel the approach of death. I shall cautiously
refrain from any word that may tend to influence your suffrages in the
election of an emperor. My choice might be imprudent or injudicious; and
if it should not be ratified by the consent of the army, it might be fatal
to the person whom I should recommend. I shall only, as a good citizen,
express my hopes, that the Romans may be blessed with the government of a
virtuous sovereign.” After this discourse, which Julian pronounced in a
firm and gentle tone of voice, he distributed, by a military testament, 97
the remains of his private fortune; and making some inquiry why Anatolius
was not present, he understood, from the answer of Sallust, that Anatolius
was killed; and bewailed, with amiable inconsistency, the loss of his
friend. At the same time he reproved the immoderate grief of the
spectators; and conjured them not to disgrace, by unmanly tears, the fate
of a prince, who in a few moments would be united with heaven, and with
the stars. 98 The spectators were silent; and Julian
entered into a metaphysical argument with the philosophers Priscus and
Maximus, on the nature of the soul. The efforts which he made, of mind as
well as body, most probably hastened his death. His wound began to bleed
with fresh violence; his respiration was embarrassed by the swelling of
the veins; he called for a draught of cold water, and, as soon as he had
drank it, expired without pain, about the hour of midnight. Such was the
end of that extraordinary man, in the thirty-second year of his age, after
a reign of one year and about eight months, from the death of Constantius.
In his last moments he displayed, perhaps with some ostentation, the love
of virtue and of fame, which had been the ruling passions of his life. 99
The triumph of Christianity, and the calamities of the empire, may, in
some measure, be ascribed to Julian himself, who had neglected to secure
the future execution of his designs, by the timely and judicious
nomination of an associate and successor. But the royal race of
Constantius Chlorus was reduced to his own person; and if he entertained
any serious thoughts of investing with the purple the most worthy among
the Romans, he was diverted from his resolution by the difficulty of the
choice, the jealousy of power, the fear of ingratitude, and the natural
presumption of health, of youth, and of prosperity. His unexpected death
left the empire without a master, and without an heir, in a state of
perplexity and danger, which, in the space of fourscore years, had never
been experienced, since the election of Diocletian. In a government which
had almost forgotten the distinction of pure and noble blood, the
superiority of birth was of little moment; the claims of official rank
were accidental and precarious; and the candidates, who might aspire to
ascend the vacant throne could be supported only by the consciousness of
personal merit, or by the hopes of popular favor. But the situation of a
famished army, encompassed on all sides by a host of Barbarians, shortened
the moments of grief and deliberation. In this scene of terror and
distress, the body of the deceased prince, according to his own
directions, was decently embalmed; and, at the dawn of day, the generals
convened a military senate, at which the commanders of the legions, and
the officers both of cavalry and infantry, were invited to assist. Three
or four hours of the night had not passed away without some secret cabals;
and when the election of an emperor was proposed, the spirit of faction
began to agitate the assembly. Victor and Arinthæus collected the remains
of the court of Constantius; the friends of Julian attached themselves to
the Gallic chiefs, Dagalaiphus and Nevitta; and the most fatal
consequences might be apprehended from the discord of two factions, so
opposite in their character and interest, in their maxims of government,
and perhaps in their religious principles. The superior virtues of Sallust
could alone reconcile their divisions, and unite their suffrages; and the
venerable præfect would immediately have been declared the successor of
Julian, if he himself, with sincere and modest firmness, had not alleged
his age and infirmities, so unequal to the weight of the diadem. The
generals, who were surprised and perplexed by his refusal, showed some
disposition to adopt the salutary advice of an inferior officer, 100
that they should act as they would have acted in the absence of the
emperor; that they should exert their abilities to extricate the army from
the present distress; and, if they were fortunate enough to reach the
confines of Mesopotamia, they should proceed with united and deliberate
counsels in the election of a lawful sovereign. While they debated, a few
voices saluted Jovian, who was no more than first 101 of the domestics,
with the names of Emperor and Augustus. The tumultuary acclamation 10111 was instantly repeated by the guards
who surrounded the tent, and passed, in a few minutes, to the extremities
of the line. The new prince, astonished with his own fortune was hastily
invested with the Imperial ornaments, and received an oath of fidelity
from the generals, whose favor and protection he so lately solicited. The
strongest recommendation of Jovian was the merit of his father, Count
Varronian, who enjoyed, in honorable retirement, the fruit of his long
services. In the obscure freedom of a private station, the son indulged
his taste for wine and women; yet he supported, with credit, the character
of a Christian 102 and a soldier. Without being conspicuous
for any of the ambitious qualifications which excite the admiration and
envy of mankind, the comely person of Jovian, his cheerful temper, and
familiar wit, had gained the affection of his fellow-soldiers; and the
generals of both parties acquiesced in a popular election, which had not
been conducted by the arts of their enemies. The pride of this unexpected
elevation was moderated by the just apprehension, that the same day might
terminate the life and reign of the new emperor. The pressing voice of
necessity was obeyed without delay; and the first orders issued by Jovian,
a few hours after his predecessor had expired, were to prosecute a march,
which could alone extricate the Romans from their actual distress. 103
Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.—Part V.
The esteem of an enemy is most sincerely expressed by his fears; and the
degree of fear may be accurately measured by the joy with which he
celebrates his deliverance. The welcome news of the death of Julian, which
a deserter revealed to the camp of Sapor, inspired the desponding monarch
with a sudden confidence of victory. He immediately detached the royal
cavalry, perhaps the ten thousand Immortals, 104 to second and
support the pursuit; and discharged the whole weight of his united forces
on the rear-guard of the Romans. The rear-guard was thrown into disorder;
the renowned legions, which derived their titles from Diocletian, and his
warlike colleague, were broke and trampled down by the elephants; and
three tribunes lost their lives in attempting to stop the flight of their
soldiers. The battle was at length restored by the persevering valor of
the Romans; the Persians were repulsed with a great slaughter of men and
elephants; and the army, after marching and fighting a long summer’s day,
arrived, in the evening, at Samara, on the banks of the Tigris, about one
hundred miles above Ctesiphon. 105 On the ensuing
day, the Barbarians, instead of harassing the march, attacked the camp, of
Jovian; which had been seated in a deep and sequestered valley. From the
hills, the archers of Persia insulted and annoyed the wearied legionaries;
and a body of cavalry, which had penetrated with desperate courage through
the Prætorian gate, was cut in pieces, after a doubtful conflict, near
the Imperial tent. In the succeeding night, the camp of Carche was
protected by the lofty dikes of the river; and the Roman army, though
incessantly exposed to the vexatious pursuit of the Saracens, pitched
their tents near the city of Dura, 106 four days after
the death of Julian. The Tigris was still on their left; their hopes and
provisions were almost consumed; and the impatient soldiers, who had
fondly persuaded themselves that the frontiers of the empire were not far
distant, requested their new sovereign, that they might be permitted to
hazard the passage of the river. With the assistance of his wisest
officers, Jovian endeavored to check their rashness; by representing, that
if they possessed sufficient skill and vigor to stem the torrent of a deep
and rapid stream, they would only deliver themselves naked and defenceless
to the Barbarians, who had occupied the opposite banks, Yielding at length
to their clamorous importunities, he consented, with reluctance, that five
hundred Gauls and Germans, accustomed from their infancy to the waters of
the Rhine and Danube, should attempt the bold adventure, which might serve
either as an encouragement, or as a warning, for the rest of the army. In
the silence of the night, they swam the Tigris, surprised an unguarded
post of the enemy, and displayed at the dawn of day the signal of their
resolution and fortune. The success of this trial disposed the emperor to
listen to the promises of his architects, who propose to construct a
floating bridge of the inflated skins of sheep, oxen, and goats, covered
with a floor of earth and fascines. 107 Two important days
were spent in the ineffectual labor; and the Romans, who already endured
the miseries of famine, cast a look of despair on the Tigris, and upon the
Barbarians; whose numbers and obstinacy increased with the distress of the
Imperial army. 108
In this hopeless condition, the fainting spirits of the Romans were
revived by the sound of peace. The transient presumption of Sapor had
vanished: he observed, with serious concern, that, in the repetition of
doubtful combats, he had lost his most faithful and intrepid nobles, his
bravest troops, and the greatest part of his train of elephants: and the
experienced monarch feared to provoke the resistance of despair, the
vicissitudes of fortune, and the unexhausted powers of the Roman empire;
which might soon advance to elieve, or to revenge, the successor of
Julian. The Surenas himself, accompanied by another satrap, appeared in
the camp of Jovian; 109 and declared, that the clemency of his
sovereign was not averse to signify the conditions on which he would
consent to spare and to dismiss the Cæsar with the relics of his captive
army. 10911 The hopes of safety subdued the
firmness of the Romans; the emperor was compelled, by the advice of his
council, and the cries of his soldiers, to embrace the offer of peace; 10912 and the præfect Sallust was
immediately sent, with the general Arinthæus, to understand the pleasure
of the Great King. The crafty Persian delayed, under various pretenses,
the conclusion of the agreement; started difficulties, required
explanations, suggested expedients, receded from his concessions,
increased his demands, and wasted four days in the arts of negotiation,
till he had consumed the stock of provisions which yet remained in the
camp of the Romans. Had Jovian been capable of executing a bold and
prudent measure, he would have continued his march, with unremitting
diligence; the progress of the treaty would have suspended the attacks of
the Barbarians; and, before the expiration of the fourth day, he might
have safely reached the fruitful province of Corduene, at the distance
only of one hundred miles. 110 The irresolute
emperor, instead of breaking through the toils of the enemy, expected his
fate with patient resignation; and accepted the humiliating conditions of
peace, which it was no longer in his power to refuse. The five provinces
beyond the Tigris, which had been ceded by the grandfather of Sapor, were
restored to the Persian monarchy. He acquired, by a single article, the
impregnable city of Nisibis; which had sustained, in three successive
sieges, the effort of his arms. Singara, and the castle of the Moors, one
of the strongest places of Mesopotamia, were likewise dismembered from the
empire. It was considered as an indulgence, that the inhabitants of those
fortresses were permitted to retire with their effects; but the conqueror
rigorously insisted, that the Romans should forever abandon the king and
kingdom of Armenia. 11011 A peace, or rather a long truce, of
thirty years, was stipulated between the hostile nations; the faith of the
treaty was ratified by solemn oaths and religious ceremonies; and hostages
of distinguished rank were reciprocally delivered to secure the
performance of the conditions. 111
The sophist of Antioch, who saw with indignation the sceptre of his hero
in the feeble hand of a Christian successor, professes to admire the
moderation of Sapor, in contenting himself with so small a portion of the
Roman empire. If he had stretched as far as the Euphrates the claims of
his ambition, he might have been secure, says Libanius, of not meeting
with a refusal. If he had fixed, as the boundary of Persia, the Orontes,
the Cydnus, the Sangarius, or even the Thracian Bosphorus, flatterers
would not have been wanting in the court of Jovian to convince the timid
monarch, that his remaining provinces would still afford the most ample
gratifications of power and luxury. 112 Without adopting
in its full force this malicious insinuation, we must acknowledge, that
the conclusion of so ignominious a treaty was facilitated by the private
ambition of Jovian. The obscure domestic, exalted to the throne by
fortune, rather than by merit, was impatient to escape from the hands of
the Persians, that he might prevent the designs of Procopius, who
commanded the army of Mesopotamia, and establish his doubtful reign over
the legions and provinces which were still ignorant of the hasty and
tumultuous choice of the camp beyond the Tigris. 113 In the
neighborhood of the same river, at no very considerable distance from the
fatal station of Dura, 114 the ten thousand Greeks, without generals,
or guides, or provisions, were abandoned, above twelve hundred miles from
their native country, to the resentment of a victorious monarch. The
difference of their conduct and success depended much more on their
character than on their situation. Instead of tamely resigning themselves
to the secret deliberations and private views of a single person, the
united councils of the Greeks were inspired by the generous enthusiasm of
a popular assembly; where the mind of each citizen is filled with the love
of glory, the pride of freedom, and the contempt of death. Conscious of
their superiority over the Barbarians in arms and discipline, they
disdained to yield, they refused to capitulate: every obstacle was
surmounted by their patience, courage, and military skill; and the
memorable retreat of the ten thousand exposed and insulted the weakness of
the Persian monarchy. 115
As the price of his disgraceful concessions, the emperor might perhaps
have stipulated, that the camp of the hungry Romans should be plentifully
supplied; 116 and that they should be permitted to pass
the Tigris on the bridge which was constructed by the hands of the
Persians. But, if Jovian presumed to solicit those equitable terms, they
were sternly refused by the haughty tyrant of the East, whose clemency had
pardoned the invaders of his country. The Saracens sometimes intercepted
the stragglers of the march; but the generals and troops of Sapor
respected the cessation of arms; and Jovian was suffered to explore the
most convenient place for the passage of the river. The small vessels,
which had been saved from the conflagration of the fleet, performed the
most essential service. They first conveyed the emperor and his favorites;
and afterwards transported, in many successive voyages, a great part of
the army. But, as every man was anxious for his personal safety, and
apprehensive of being left on the hostile shore, the soldiers, who were
too impatient to wait the slow returns of the boats, boldly ventured
themselves on light hurdles, or inflated skins; and, drawing after them
their horses, attempted, with various success, to swim across the river.
Many of these daring adventurers were swallowed by the waves; many others,
who were carried along by the violence of the stream, fell an easy prey to
the avarice or cruelty of the wild Arabs: and the loss which the army
sustained in the passage of the Tigris, was not inferior to the carnage of
a day of battle. As soon as the Romans were landed on the western bank,
they were delivered from the hostile pursuit of the Barbarians; but, in a
laborious march of two hundred miles over the plains of Mesopotamia, they
endured the last extremities of thirst and hunger. They were obliged to
traverse the sandy desert, which, in the extent of seventy miles, did not
afford a single blade of sweet grass, nor a single spring of fresh water;
and the rest of the inhospitable waste was untrod by the footsteps either
of friends or enemies. Whenever a small measure of flour could be
discovered in the camp, twenty pounds weight were greedily purchased with
ten pieces of gold: 117 the beasts of burden were slaughtered and
devoured; and the desert was strewed with the arms and baggage of the
Roman soldiers, whose tattered garments and meagre countenances displayed
their past sufferings and actual misery. A small convoy of provisions
advanced to meet the army as far as the castle of Ur; and the supply was
the more grateful, since it declared the fidelity of Sebastian and
Procopius. At Thilsaphata, 118 the emperor most
graciously received the generals of Mesopotamia; and the remains of a once
flourishing army at length reposed themselves under the walls of Nisibis.
The messengers of Jovian had already proclaimed, in the language of
flattery, his election, his treaty, and his return; and the new prince had
taken the most effectual measures to secure the allegiance of the armies
and provinces of Europe, by placing the military command in the hands of
those officers, who, from motives of interest, or inclination, would
firmly support the cause of their benefactor. 119
The friends of Julian had confidently announced the success of his
expedition. They entertained a fond persuasion that the temples of the
gods would be enriched with the spoils of the East; that Persia would be
reduced to the humble state of a tributary province, governed by the laws
and magistrates of Rome; that the Barbarians would adopt the dress, and
manners, and language of their conquerors; and that the youth of Ecbatana
and Susa would study the art of rhetoric under Grecian masters. 120
The progress of the arms of Julian interrupted his communication with the
empire; and, from the moment that he passed the Tigris, his affectionate
subjects were ignorant of the fate and fortunes of their prince. Their
contemplation of fancied triumphs was disturbed by the melancholy rumor of
his death; and they persisted to doubt, after they could no longer deny,
the truth of that fatal event. 121 The messengers of
Jovian promulgated the specious tale of a prudent and necessary peace; the
voice of fame, louder and more sincere, revealed the disgrace of the
emperor, and the conditions of the ignominious treaty. The minds of the
people were filled with astonishment and grief, with indignation and
terror, when they were informed, that the unworthy successor of Julian
relinquished the five provinces which had been acquired by the victory of
Galerius; and that he shamefully surrendered to the Barbarians the
important city of Nisibis, the firmest bulwark of the provinces of the
East. 122 The deep and dangerous question, how far
the public faith should be observed, when it becomes incompatible with the
public safety, was freely agitated in popular conversation; and some hopes
were entertained that the emperor would redeem his pusillanimous behavior
by a splendid act of patriotic perfidy. The inflexible spirit of the Roman
senate had always disclaimed the unequal conditions which were extorted
from the distress of their captive armies; and, if it were necessary to
satisfy the national honor, by delivering the guilty general into the
hands of the Barbarians, the greatest part of the subjects of Jovian would
have cheerfully acquiesced in the precedent of ancient times. 123
But the emperor, whatever might be the limits of his constitutional
authority, was the absolute master of the laws and arms of the state; and
the same motives which had forced him to subscribe, now pressed him to
execute, the treaty of peace. He was impatient to secure an empire at the
expense of a few provinces; and the respectable names of religion and
honor concealed the personal fears and ambition of Jovian. Notwithstanding
the dutiful solicitations of the inhabitants, decency, as well as
prudence, forbade the emperor to lodge in the palace of Nisibis; but the
next morning after his arrival, Bineses, the ambassador of Persia, entered
the place, displayed from the citadel the standard of the Great King, and
proclaimed, in his name, the cruel alternative of exile or servitude. The
principal citizens of Nisibis, who, till that fatal moment, had confided
in the protection of their sovereign, threw themselves at his feet. They
conjured him not to abandon, or, at least, not to deliver, a faithful
colony to the rage of a Barbarian tyrant, exasperated by the three
successive defeats which he had experienced under the walls of Nisibis.
They still possessed arms and courage to repel the invaders of their
country: they requested only the permission of using them in their own
defence; and, as soon as they had asserted their independence, they should
implore the favor of being again admitted into the ranks of his subjects.
Their arguments, their eloquence, their tears, were ineffectual. Jovian
alleged, with some confusion, the sanctity of oaths; and, as the
reluctance with which he accepted the present of a crown of gold,
convinced the citizens of their hopeless condition, the advocate Sylvanus
was provoked to exclaim, “O emperor! may you thus be crowned by all the
cities of your dominions!” Jovian, who in a few weeks had assumed the
habits of a prince, 124 was displeased with freedom, and offended
with truth: and as he reasonably supposed, that the discontent of the
people might incline them to submit to the Persian government, he
published an edict, under pain of death, that they should leave the city
within the term of three days. Ammianus has delineated in lively colors
the scene of universal despair, which he seems to have viewed with an eye
of compassion. 125 The martial youth deserted, with indignant
grief, the walls which they had so gloriously defended: the disconsolate
mourner dropped a last tear over the tomb of a son or husband, which must
soon be profaned by the rude hand of a Barbarian master; and the aged
citizen kissed the threshold, and clung to the doors, of the house where
he had passed the cheerful and careless hours of infancy. The highways
were crowded with a trembling multitude: the distinctions of rank, and
sex, and age, were lost in the general calamity. Every one strove to bear
away some fragment from the wreck of his fortunes; and as they could not
command the immediate service of an adequate number of horses or wagons,
they were obliged to leave behind them the greatest part of their valuable
effects. The savage insensibility of Jovian appears to have aggravated the
hardships of these unhappy fugitives. They were seated, however, in a
new-built quarter of Amida; and that rising city, with the reenforcement
of a very considerable colony, soon recovered its former splendor, and
became the capital of Mesopotamia. 126 Similar orders
were despatched by the emperor for the evacuation of Singara and the
castle of the Moors; and for the restitution of the five provinces beyond
the Tigris. Sapor enjoyed the glory and the fruits of his victory; and
this ignominious peace has justly been considered as a memorable æra in
the decline and fall of the Roman empire. The predecessors of Jovian had
sometimes relinquished the dominion of distant and unprofitable provinces;
but, since the foundation of the city, the genius of Rome, the god
Terminus, who guarded the boundaries of the republic, had never retired
before the sword of a victorious enemy. 127
After Jovian had performed those engagements which the voice of his people
might have tempted him to violate, he hastened away from the scene of his
disgrace, and proceeded with his whole court to enjoy the luxury of
Antioch. 128 Without consulting the dictates of
religious zeal, he was prompted, by humanity and gratitude, to bestow the
last honors on the remains of his deceased sovereign: 129
and Procopius, who sincerely bewailed the loss of his kinsman, was removed
from the command of the army, under the decent pretence of conducting the
funeral. The corpse of Julian was transported from Nisibis to Tarsus, in a
slow march of fifteen days; and, as it passed through the cities of the
East, was saluted by the hostile factions, with mournful lamentations and
clamorous insults. The Pagans already placed their beloved hero in the
rank of those gods whose worship he had restored; while the invectives of
the Christians pursued the soul of the Apostate to hell, and his body to
the grave. 130 One party lamented the approaching ruin of
their altars; the other celebrated the marvellous deliverance of their
church. The Christians applauded, in lofty and ambiguous strains, the
stroke of divine vengeance, which had been so long suspended over the
guilty head of Julian. They acknowledge, that the death of the tyrant, at
the instant he expired beyond the Tigris, was revealed to the saints of
Egypt, Syria, and Cappadocia; 131 and instead of
suffering him to fall by the Persian darts, their indiscretion ascribed
the heroic deed to the obscure hand of some mortal or immortal champion of
the faith. 132 Such imprudent declarations were eagerly
adopted by the malice, or credulity, of their adversaries; 133
who darkly insinuated, or confidently asserted, that the governors of the
church had instigated and directed the fanaticism of a domestic assassin.
134
Above sixteen years after the death of Julian, the charge was solemnly and
vehemently urged, in a public oration, addressed by Libanius to the
emperor Theodosius. His suspicions are unsupported by fact or argument;
and we can only esteem the generous zeal of the sophist of Antioch for the
cold and neglected ashes of his friend. 135
It was an ancient custom in the funerals, as well as in the triumphs, of
the Romans, that the voice of praise should be corrected by that of satire
and ridicule; and that, in the midst of the splendid pageants, which
displayed the glory of the living or of the dead, their imperfections
should not be concealed from the eyes of the world. 136
This custom was practised in the funeral of Julian. The comedians, who
resented his contempt and aversion for the theatre, exhibited, with the
applause of a Christian audience, the lively and exaggerated
representation of the faults and follies of the deceased emperor. His
various character and singular manners afforded an ample scope for
pleasantry and ridicule. 137 In the exercise of his uncommon talents, he
often descended below the majesty of his rank. Alexander was transformed
into Diogenes; the philosopher was degraded into a priest. The purity of
his virtue was sullied by excessive vanity; his superstition disturbed the
peace, and endangered the safety, of a mighty empire; and his irregular
sallies were the less entitled to indulgence, as they appeared to be the
laborious efforts of art, or even of affectation. The remains of Julian
were interred at Tarsus in Cilicia; but his stately tomb, which arose in
that city, on the banks of the cold and limpid Cydnus, 138
was displeasing to the faithful friends, who loved and revered the memory
of that extraordinary man. The philosopher expressed a very reasonable
wish, that the disciple of Plato might have reposed amidst the groves of
the academy; 139 while the soldier exclaimed, in bolder
accents, that the ashes of Julian should have been mingled with those of
Cæsar, in the field of Mars, and among the ancient monuments of Roman
virtue. 140 The history of princes does not very
frequently renew the examples of a similar competition.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
I.
The Government And Death Of Jovian.—Election Of
Valentinian, Who Associates His Brother Valens, And Makes
The Final Division Of The Eastern And Western Empires.—
Revolt Of Procopius.—Civil And Ecclesiastical
Administration.—Germany. —Britain.—Africa.—The East.—
The Danube.—Death Of Valentinian.—His Two Sons, Gratian
And Valentinian II., Succeed To The Western Empire.
The death of Julian had left the public affairs of the empire in a very
doubtful and dangerous situation. The Roman army was saved by an
inglorious, perhaps a necessary treaty; 1 and the first moments of
peace were consecrated by the pious Jovian to restore the domestic
tranquility of the church and state. The indiscretion of his predecessor,
instead of reconciling, had artfully fomented the religious war: and the
balance which he affected to preserve between the hostile factions, served
only to perpetuate the contest, by the vicissitudes of hope and fear, by
the rival claims of ancient possession and actual favor. The Christians
had forgotten the spirit of the gospel; and the Pagans had imbibed the
spirit of the church. In private families, the sentiments of nature were
extinguished by the blind fury of zeal and revenge: the majesty of the
laws was violated or abused; the cities of the East were stained with
blood; and the most implacable enemies of the Romans were in the bosom of
their country. Jovian was educated in the profession of Christianity; and
as he marched from Nisibis to Antioch, the banner of the Cross, the
Labarum of Constantine, which was again displayed at the head of the
legions, announced to the people the faith of their new emperor. As soon
as he ascended the throne, he transmitted a circular epistle to all the
governors of provinces; in which he confessed the divine truth, and
secured the legal establishment, of the Christian religion. The insidious
edicts of Julian were abolished; the ecclesiastical immunities were
restored and enlarged; and Jovian condescended to lament, that the
distress of the times obliged him to diminish the measure of charitable
distributions. 2 The Christians were unanimous in the loud and
sincere applause which they bestowed on the pious successor of Julian. But
they were still ignorant what creed, or what synod, he would choose for
the standard of orthodoxy; and the peace of the church immediately revived
those eager disputes which had been suspended during the season of
persecution. The episcopal leaders of the contending sects, convinced,
from experience, how much their fate would depend on the earliest
impressions that were made on the mind of an untutored soldier, hastened
to the court of Edessa, or Antioch. The highways of the East were crowded
with Homoousian, and Arian, and Semi-Arian, and Eunomian bishops, who
struggled to outstrip each other in the holy race: the apartments of the
palace resounded with their clamors; and the ears of the prince were
assaulted, and perhaps astonished, by the singular mixture of metaphysical
argument and passionate invective. 3 The moderation of
Jovian, who recommended concord and charity, and referred the disputants
to the sentence of a future council, was interpreted as a symptom of
indifference: but his attachment to the Nicene creed was at length
discovered and declared, by the reverence which he expressed for the
celestial 4 virtues of the great Athanasius. The intrepid
veteran of the faith, at the age of seventy, had issued from his retreat
on the first intelligence of the tyrant’s death. The acclamations of the
people seated him once more on the archiepiscopal throne; and he wisely
accepted, or anticipated, the invitation of Jovian. The venerable figure
of Athanasius, his calm courage, and insinuating eloquence, sustained the
reputation which he had already acquired in the courts of four successive
princes. 5 As soon as he had gained the confidence, and
secured the faith, of the Christian emperor, he returned in triumph to his
diocese, and continued, with mature counsels and undiminished vigor, to
direct, ten years longer, 6 the ecclesiastical government of Alexandria,
Egypt, and the Catholic church. Before his departure from Antioch, he
assured Jovian that his orthodox devotion would be rewarded with a long
and peaceful reign. Athanasius, had reason to hope, that he should be
allowed either the merit of a successful prediction, or the excuse of a
grateful though ineffectual prayer. 7
The slightest force, when it is applied to assist and guide the natural
descent of its object, operates with irresistible weight; and Jovian had
the good fortune to embrace the religious opinions which were supported by
the spirit of the times, and the zeal and numbers of the most powerful
sect. 8
Under his reign, Christianity obtained an easy and lasting victory; and as
soon as the smile of royal patronage was withdrawn, the genius of
Paganism, which had been fondly raised and cherished by the arts of
Julian, sunk irrecoverably in the. In many cities, the temples were shut
or deserted: the philosophers who had abused their transient favor,
thought it prudent to shave their beards, and disguise their profession;
and the Christians rejoiced, that they were now in a condition to forgive,
or to revenge, the injuries which they had suffered under the preceding
reign. 9
The consternation of the Pagan world was dispelled by a wise and gracious
edict of toleration; in which Jovian explicitly declared, that although he
should severely punish the sacrilegious rites of magic, his subjects might
exercise, with freedom and safety, the ceremonies of the ancient worship.
The memory of this law has been preserved by the orator Themistius, who
was deputed by the senate of Constantinople to express their royal
devotion for the new emperor. Themistius expatiates on the clemency of the
Divine Nature, the facility of human error, the rights of conscience, and
the independence of the mind; and, with some eloquence, inculcates the
principles of philosophical toleration; whose aid Superstition herself, in
the hour of her distress, is not ashamed to implore. He justly observes,
that in the recent changes, both religions had been alternately disgraced
by the seeming acquisition of worthless proselytes, of those votaries of
the reigning purple, who could pass, without a reason, and without a
blush, from the church to the temple, and from the altars of Jupiter to
the sacred table of the Christians. 10
In the space of seven months, the Roman troops, who were now returned to
Antioch, had performed a march of fifteen hundred miles; in which they had
endured all the hardships of war, of famine, and of climate.
Notwithstanding their services, their fatigues, and the approach of
winter, the timid and impatient Jovian allowed only, to the men and
horses, a respite of six weeks. The emperor could not sustain the
indiscreet and malicious raillery of the people of Antioch. 11
He was impatient to possess the palace of Constantinople; and to prevent
the ambition of some competitor, who might occupy the vacant allegiance of
Europe. But he soon received the grateful intelligence, that his authority
was acknowledged from the Thracian Bosphorus to the Atlantic Ocean. By the
first letters which he despatched from the camp of Mesopotamia, he had
delegated the military command of Gaul and Illyricum to Malarich, a brave
and faithful officer of the nation of the Franks; and to his
father-in-law, Count Lucillian, who had formerly distinguished his courage
and conduct in the defence of Nisibis. Malarich had declined an office to
which he thought himself unequal; and Lucillian was massacred at Rheims,
in an accidental mutiny of the Batavian cohorts. 12 But the moderation of
Jovinus, master-general of the cavalry, who forgave the intention of his
disgrace, soon appeased the tumult, and confirmed the uncertain minds of
the soldiers. The oath of fidelity was administered and taken, with loyal
acclamations; and the deputies of the Western armies 13
saluted their new sovereign as he descended from Mount Taurus to the city
of Tyana in Cappadocia. From Tyana he continued his hasty march to Ancyra,
capital of the province of Galatia; where Jovian assumed, with his infant
son, the name and ensigns of the consulship. 14 Dadastana, 15
an obscure town, almost at an equal distance between Ancyra and Nice, was
marked for the fatal term of his journey and life. After indulging himself
with a plentiful, perhaps an intemperate, supper, he retired to rest; and
the next morning the emperor Jovian was found dead in his bed. The cause
of this sudden death was variously understood. By some it was ascribed to
the consequences of an indigestion, occasioned either by the quantity of
the wine, or the quality of the mushrooms, which he had swallowed in the
evening. According to others, he was suffocated in his sleep by the vapor
of charcoal, which extracted from the walls of the apartment the
unwholesome moisture of the fresh plaster. 16 But the want of a
regular inquiry into the death of a prince, whose reign and person were
soon forgotten, appears to have been the only circumstance which
countenanced the malicious whispers of poison and domestic guilt. 17
The body of Jovian was sent to Constantinople, to be interred with his
predecessors, and the sad procession was met on the road by his wife
Charito, the daughter of Count Lucillian; who still wept the recent death
of her father, and was hastening to dry her tears in the embraces of an
Imperial husband. Her disappointment and grief were imbittered by the
anxiety of maternal tenderness. Six weeks before the death of Jovian, his
infant son had been placed in the curule chair, adorned with the title of
Nobilissimus, and the vain ensigns of the consulship. Unconscious of his
fortune, the royal youth, who, from his grandfather, assumed the name of
Varronian, was reminded only by the jealousy of the government, that he
was the son of an emperor. Sixteen years afterwards he was still alive,
but he had already been deprived of an eye; and his afflicted mother
expected every hour, that the innocent victim would be torn from her arms,
to appease, with his blood, the suspicions of the reigning prince. 18
After the death of Jovian, the throne of the Roman world remained ten
days, 19 without a master. The ministers and generals
still continued to meet in council; to exercise their respective
functions; to maintain the public order; and peaceably to conduct the army
to the city of Nice in Bithynia, which was chosen for the place of the
election. 20 In a solemn assembly of the civil and
military powers of the empire, the diadem was again unanimously offered to
the præfect Sallust. He enjoyed the glory of a second refusal: and when
the virtues of the father were alleged in favor of his son, the præfect,
with the firmness of a disinterested patriot, declared to the electors,
that the feeble age of the one, and the unexperienced youth of the other,
were equally incapable of the laborious duties of government. Several
candidates were proposed; and, after weighing the objections of character
or situation, they were successively rejected; but, as soon as the name of
Valentinian was pronounced, the merit of that officer united the suffrages
of the whole assembly, and obtained the sincere approbation of Sallust
himself. Valentinian 21 was the son of Count Gratian, a native of
Cibalis, in Pannonia, who from an obscure condition had raised himself, by
matchless strength and dexterity, to the military commands of Africa and
Britain; from which he retired with an ample fortune and suspicious
integrity. The rank and services of Gratian contributed, however, to
smooth the first steps of the promotion of his son; and afforded him an
early opportunity of displaying those solid and useful qualifications,
which raised his character above the ordinary level of his
fellow-soldiers. The person of Valentinian was tall, graceful, and
majestic. His manly countenance, deeply marked with the impression of
sense and spirit, inspired his friends with awe, and his enemies with
fear; and to second the efforts of his undaunted courage, the son of
Gratian had inherited the advantages of a strong and healthy constitution.
By the habits of chastity and temperance, which restrain the appetites and
invigorate the faculties, Valentinian preserved his own and the public
esteem. The avocations of a military life had diverted his youth from the
elegant pursuits of literature; 2111 he was ignorant
of the Greek language, and the arts of rhetoric; but as the mind of the
orator was never disconcerted by timid perplexity, he was able, as often
as the occasion prompted him, to deliver his decided sentiments with bold
and ready elocution. The laws of martial discipline were the only laws
that he had studied; and he was soon distinguished by the laborious
diligence, and inflexible severity, with which he discharged and enforced
the duties of the camp. In the time of Julian he provoked the danger of
disgrace, by the contempt which he publicly expressed for the reigning
religion; 22 and it should seem, from his subsequent
conduct, that the indiscreet and unseasonable freedom of Valentinian was
the effect of military spirit, rather than of Christian zeal. He was
pardoned, however, and still employed by a prince who esteemed his merit;
23
and in the various events of the Persian war, he improved the reputation
which he had already acquired on the banks of the Rhine. The celerity and
success with which he executed an important commission, recommended him to
the favor of Jovian; and to the honorable command of the second school, or
company, of Targetiers, of the domestic guards. In the march from Antioch,
he had reached his quarters at Ancyra, when he was unexpectedly summoned,
without guilt and without intrigue, to assume, in the forty-third year of
his age, the absolute government of the Roman empire.
The invitation of the ministers and generals at Nice was of little moment,
unless it were confirmed by the voice of the army.
The aged Sallust, who had long observed the irregular fluctuations of
popular assemblies, proposed, under pain of death, that none of those
persons, whose rank in the service might excite a party in their favor,
should appear in public on the day of the inauguration. Yet such was the
prevalence of ancient superstition, that a whole day was voluntarily added
to this dangerous interval, because it happened to be the intercalation of
the Bissextile. 24 At length, when the hour was supposed to be
propitious, Valentinian showed himself from a lofty tribunal; the
judicious choice was applauded; and the new prince was solemnly invested
with the diadem and the purple, amidst the acclamation of the troops, who
were disposed in martial order round the tribunal. But when he stretched
forth his hand to address the armed multitude, a busy whisper was
accidentally started in the ranks, and insensibly swelled into a loud and
imperious clamor, that he should name, without delay, a colleague in the
empire. The intrepid calmness of Valentinian obtained silence, and
commanded respect; and he thus addressed the assembly: “A few minutes
since it was in your power, fellow-soldiers, to have left me in the
obscurity of a private station. Judging, from the testimony of my past
life, that I deserved to reign, you have placed me on the throne. It is
now my duty to consult the safety and interest of the republic. The weight
of the universe is undoubtedly too great for the hands of a feeble mortal.
I am conscious of the limits of my abilities, and the uncertainty of my
life; and far from declining, I am anxious to solicit, the assistance of a
worthy colleague. But, where discord may be fatal, the choice of a
faithful friend requires mature and serious deliberation. That
deliberation shall be my care. Let your conduct be dutiful and consistent.
Retire to your quarters; refresh your minds and bodies; and expect the
accustomed donative on the accession of a new emperor.” 25
The astonished troops, with a mixture of pride, of satisfaction, and of
terror, confessed the voice of their master.
Their angry clamors subsided into silent reverence; and Valentinian,
encompassed with the eagles of the legions, and the various banners of the
cavalry and infantry, was conducted, in warlike pomp, to the palace of
Nice. As he was sensible, however, of the importance of preventing some
rash declaration of the soldiers, he consulted the assembly of the chiefs;
and their real sentiments were concisely expressed by the generous freedom
of Dagalaiphus. “Most excellent prince,” said that officer, “if you
consider only your family, you have a brother; if you love the republic,
look round for the most deserving of the Romans.” 26 The emperor, who
suppressed his displeasure, without altering his intention, slowly
proceeded from Nice to Nicomedia and Constantinople. In one of the suburbs
of that capital, 27 thirty days after his own elevation, he
bestowed the title of Augustus on his brother Valens; 2711
and as the boldest patriots were convinced, that their opposition, without
being serviceable to their country, would be fatal to themselves, the
declaration of his absolute will was received with silent submission.
Valens was now in the thirty-sixth year of his age; but his abilities had
never been exercised in any employment, military or civil; and his
character had not inspired the world with any sanguine expectations. He
possessed, however, one quality, which recommended him to Valentinian, and
preserved the domestic peace of the empire; devout and grateful attachment
to his benefactor, whose superiority of genius, as well as of authority,
Valens humbly and cheerfully acknowledged in every action of his life. 28
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
II.
Before Valentinian divided the provinces, he reformed the administration
of the empire. All ranks of subjects, who had been injured or oppressed
under the reign of Julian, were invited to support their public
accusations. The silence of mankind attested the spotless integrity of the
præfect Sallust; 29 and his own pressing solicitations, that he
might be permitted to retire from the business of the state, were rejected
by Valentinian with the most honorable expressions of friendship and
esteem. But among the favorites of the late emperor, there were many who
had abused his credulity or superstition; and who could no longer hope to
be protected either by favor or justice. 30 The greater part of
the ministers of the palace, and the governors of the provinces, were
removed from their respective stations; yet the eminent merit of some
officers was distinguished from the obnoxious crowd; and, notwithstanding
the opposite clamors of zeal and resentment, the whole proceedings of this
delicate inquiry appear to have been conducted with a reasonable share of
wisdom and moderation. 31 The festivity of a new reign received a short
and suspicious interruption from the sudden illness of the two princes;
but as soon as their health was restored, they left Constantinople in the
beginning of the spring. In the castle, or palace, of Mediana, only three
miles from Naissus, they executed the solemn and final division of the
Roman empire. 32 Valentinian bestowed on his brother the rich
præfecture of the East, from the Lower Danube to the confines of Persia;
whilst he reserved for his immediate government the warlike 3211
præfectures of Illyricum, Italy, and Gaul, from the extremity of Greece
to the Caledonian rampart, and from the rampart of Caledonia to the foot
of Mount Atlas. The provincial administration remained on its former
basis; but a double supply of generals and magistrates was required for
two councils, and two courts: the division was made with a just regard to
their peculiar merit and situation, and seven master-generals were soon
created, either of the cavalry or infantry. When this important business
had been amicably transacted, Valentinian and Valens embraced for the last
time. The emperor of the West established his temporary residence at
Milan; and the emperor of the East returned to Constantinople, to assume
the dominion of fifty provinces, of whose language he was totally
ignorant. 33
The tranquility of the East was soon disturbed by rebellion; and the
throne of Valens was threatened by the daring attempts of a rival whose
affinity to the emperor Julian 34 was his sole merit,
and had been his only crime. Procopius had been hastily promoted from the
obscure station of a tribune, and a notary, to the joint command of the
army of Mesopotamia; the public opinion already named him as the successor
of a prince who was destitute of natural heirs; and a vain rumor was
propagated by his friends, or his enemies, that Julian, before the altar
of the Moon at Carrhæ, had privately invested Procopius with the Imperial
purple. 35 He endeavored, by his dutiful and submissive
behavior, to disarm the jealousy of Jovian; resigned, without a contest,
his military command; and retired, with his wife and family, to cultivate
the ample patrimony which he possessed in the province of Cappadocia.
These useful and innocent occupations were interrupted by the appearance
of an officer with a band of soldiers, who, in the name of his new
sovereigns, Valentinian and Valens, was despatched to conduct the
unfortunate Procopius either to a perpetual prison or an ignominious
death. His presence of mind procured him a longer respite, and a more
splendid fate. Without presuming to dispute the royal mandate, he
requested the indulgence of a few moments to embrace his weeping family;
and while the vigilance of his guards was relaxed by a plentiful
entertainment, he dexterously escaped to the sea-coast of the Euxine, from
whence he passed over to the country of Bosphorus. In that sequestered
region he remained many months, exposed to the hardships of exile, of
solitude, and of want; his melancholy temper brooding over his
misfortunes, and his mind agitated by the just apprehension, that, if any
accident should discover his name, the faithless Barbarians would violate,
without much scruple, the laws of hospitality. In a moment of impatience
and despair, Procopius embarked in a merchant vessel, which made sail for
Constantinople; and boldly aspired to the rank of a sovereign, because he
was not allowed to enjoy the security of a subject. At first he lurked in
the villages of Bithynia, continually changing his habitation and his
disguise. 36 By degrees he ventured into the capital,
trusted his life and fortune to the fidelity of two friends, a senator and
a eunuch, and conceived some hopes of success, from the intelligence which
he obtained of the actual state of public affairs. The body of the people
was infected with a spirit of discontent: they regretted the justice and
the abilities of Sallust, who had been imprudently dismissed from the
præfecture of the East. They despised the character of Valens, which was
rude without vigor, and feeble without mildness. They dreaded the
influence of his father-in-law, the patrician Petronius, a cruel and
rapacious minister, who rigorously exacted all the arrears of tribute that
might remain unpaid since the reign of the emperor Aurelian. The
circumstances were propitious to the designs of a usurper. The hostile
measures of the Persians required the presence of Valens in Syria: from
the Danube to the Euphrates the troops were in motion; and the capital was
occasionally filled with the soldiers who passed or repassed the Thracian
Bosphorus. Two cohorts of Gaul were persuaded to listen to the secret
proposals of the conspirators; which were recommended by the promise of a
liberal donative; and, as they still revered the memory of Julian, they
easily consented to support the hereditary claim of his proscribed
kinsman. At the dawn of day they were drawn up near the baths of
Anastasia; and Procopius, clothed in a purple garment, more suitable to a
player than to a monarch, appeared, as if he rose from the dead, in the
midst of Constantinople. The soldiers, who were prepared for his
reception, saluted their trembling prince with shouts of joy and vows of
fidelity. Their numbers were soon increased by a band of sturdy peasants,
collected from the adjacent country; and Procopius, shielded by the arms
of his adherents, was successively conducted to the tribunal, the senate,
and the palace. During the first moments of his tumultuous reign, he was
astonished and terrified by the gloomy silence of the people; who were
either ignorant of the cause, or apprehensive of the event. But his
military strength was superior to any actual resistance: the malcontents
flocked to the standard of rebellion; the poor were excited by the hopes,
and the rich were intimidated by the fear, of a general pillage; and the
obstinate credulity of the multitude was once more deceived by the
promised advantages of a revolution. The magistrates were seized; the
prisons and arsenals broke open; the gates, and the entrance of the
harbor, were diligently occupied; and, in a few hours, Procopius became
the absolute, though precarious, master of the Imperial city. 3611
The usurper improved this unexpected success with some degree of courage
and dexterity. He artfully propagated the rumors and opinions the most
favorable to his interest; while he deluded the populace by giving
audience to the frequent, but imaginary, ambassadors of distant nations.
The large bodies of troops stationed in the cities of Thrace and the
fortresses of the Lower Danube, were gradually involved in the guilt of
rebellion: and the Gothic princes consented to supply the sovereign of
Constantinople with the formidable strength of several thousand
auxiliaries. His generals passed the Bosphorus, and subdued, without an
effort, the unarmed, but wealthy provinces of Bithynia and Asia. After an
honorable defence, the city and island of Cyzicus yielded to his power;
the renowned legions of the Jovians and Herculeans embraced the cause of
the usurper, whom they were ordered to crush; and, as the veterans were
continually augmented with new levies, he soon appeared at the head of an
army, whose valor, as well as numbers, were not unequal to the greatness
of the contest. The son of Hormisdas, 37 a youth of spirit and
ability, condescended to draw his sword against the lawful emperor of the
East; and the Persian prince was immediately invested with the ancient and
extraordinary powers of a Roman Proconsul. The alliance of Faustina, the
widow of the emperor Constantius, who intrusted herself and her daughter
to the hands of the usurper, added dignity and reputation to his cause.
The princess Constantia, who was then about five years of age,
accompanied, in a litter, the march of the army. She was shown to the
multitude in the arms of her adopted father; and, as often as she passed
through the ranks, the tenderness of the soldiers was inflamed into
martial fury: 38 they recollected the glories of the house of
Constantine, and they declared, with loyal acclamation, that they would
shed the last drop of their blood in the defence of the royal infant. 39
In the mean while Valentinian was alarmed and perplexed by the doubtful
intelligence of the revolt of the East. 3911 The
difficulties of a German war forced him to confine his immediate care to
the safety of his own dominions; and, as every channel of communication
was stopped or corrupted, he listened, with doubtful anxiety, to the
rumors which were industriously spread, that the defeat and death of
Valens had left Procopius sole master of the Eastern provinces. Valens was
not dead: but on the news of the rebellion, which he received at Cæsarea,
he basely despaired of his life and fortune; proposed to negotiate with
the usurper, and discovered his secret inclination to abdicate the
Imperial purple. The timid monarch was saved from disgrace and ruin by the
firmness of his ministers, and their abilities soon decided in his favor
the event of the civil war. In a season of tranquillity, Sallust had
resigned without a murmur; but as soon as the public safety was attacked,
he ambitiously solicited the preëminence of toil and danger; and the
restoration of that virtuous minister to the præfecture of the East, was
the first step which indicated the repentance of Valens, and satisfied the
minds of the people. The reign of Procopius was apparently supported by
powerful armies and obedient provinces. But many of the principal
officers, military as well as civil, had been urged, either by motives of
duty or interest, to withdraw themselves from the guilty scene; or to
watch the moment of betraying, and deserting, the cause of the usurper.
Lupicinus advanced by hasty marches, to bring the legions of Syria to the
aid of Valens. Arintheus, who, in strength, beauty, and valor, excelled
all the heroes of the age, attacked with a small troop a superior body of
the rebels. When he beheld the faces of the soldiers who had served under
his banner, he commanded them, with a loud voice, to seize and deliver up
their pretended leader; and such was the ascendant of his genius, that
this extraordinary order was instantly obeyed. 40 Arbetio, a
respectable veteran of the great Constantine, who had been distinguished
by the honors of the consulship, was persuaded to leave his retirement,
and once more to conduct an army into the field. In the heat of action,
calmly taking off his helmet, he showed his gray hairs and venerable
countenance: saluted the soldiers of Procopius by the endearing names of
children and companions, and exhorted them no longer to support the
desperate cause of a contemptible tyrant; but to follow their old
commander, who had so often led them to honor and victory. In the two
engagements of Thyatira 41 and Nacolia, the unfortunate Procopius was
deserted by his troops, who were seduced by the instructions and example
of their perfidious officers. After wandering some time among the woods
and mountains of Phyrgia, he was betrayed by his desponding followers,
conducted to the Imperial camp, and immediately beheaded. He suffered the
ordinary fate of an unsuccessful usurper; but the acts of cruelty which
were exercised by the conqueror, under the forms of legal justice, excited
the pity and indignation of mankind. 42
Such indeed are the common and natural fruits of despotism and rebellion.
But the inquisition into the crime of magic, 4211 which, under
the reign of the two brothers, was so rigorously prosecuted both at Rome
and Antioch, was interpreted as the fatal symptom, either of the
displeasure of Heaven, or of the depravity of mankind. 43
Let us not hesitate to indulge a liberal pride, that, in the present age,
the enlightened part of Europe has abolished 44 a cruel and odious
prejudice, which reigned in every climate of the globe, and adhered to
every system of religious opinions. 45 The nations, and the
sects, of the Roman world, admitted with equal credulity, and similar
abhorrence, the reality of that infernal art, 46 which was able to
control the eternal order of the planets, and the voluntary operations of
the human mind. They dreaded the mysterious power of spells and
incantations, of potent herbs, and execrable rites; which could extinguish
or recall life, inflame the passions of the soul, blast the works of
creation, and extort from the reluctant dæmons the secrets of futurity.
They believed, with the wildest inconsistency, that this preternatural
dominion of the air, of earth, and of hell, was exercised, from the vilest
motives of malice or gain, by some wrinkled hags and itinerant sorcerers,
who passed their obscure lives in penury and contempt. 47
The arts of magic were equally condemned by the public opinion, and by the
laws of Rome; but as they tended to gratify the most imperious passions of
the heart of man, they were continually proscribed, and continually
practised. 48 An imaginary cause was capable of producing
the most serious and mischievous effects. The dark predictions of the
death of an emperor, or the success of a conspiracy, were calculated only
to stimulate the hopes of ambition, and to dissolve the ties of fidelity;
and the intentional guilt of magic was aggravated by the actual crimes of
treason and sacrilege. 49 Such vain terrors disturbed the peace of
society, and the happiness of individuals; and the harmless flame which
insensibly melted a waxen image, might derive a powerful and pernicious
energy from the affrighted fancy of the person whom it was maliciously
designed to represent. 50 From the infusion of those herbs, which were
supposed to possess a supernatural influence, it was an easy step to the
use of more substantial poison; and the folly of mankind sometimes became
the instrument, and the mask, of the most atrocious crimes. As soon as the
zeal of informers was encouraged by the ministers of Valens and
Valentinian, they could not refuse to listen to another charge, too
frequently mingled in the scenes of domestic guilt; a charge of a softer
and less malignant nature, for which the pious, though excessive, rigor of
Constantine had recently decreed the punishment of death. 51
This deadly and incoherent mixture of treason and magic, of poison and
adultery, afforded infinite gradations of guilt and innocence, of excuse
and aggravation, which in these proceedings appear to have been confounded
by the angry or corrupt passions of the judges. They easily discovered
that the degree of their industry and discernment was estimated, by the
Imperial court, according to the number of executions that were furnished
from the respective tribunals. It was not without extreme reluctance that
they pronounced a sentence of acquittal; but they eagerly admitted such
evidence as was stained with perjury, or procured by torture, to prove the
most improbable charges against the most respectable characters. The
progress of the inquiry continually opened new subjects of criminal
prosecution; the audacious informer, whose falsehood was detected, retired
with impunity; but the wretched victim, who discovered his real or
pretended accomplices, were seldom permitted to receive the price of his
infamy. From the extremity of Italy and Asia, the young, and the aged,
were dragged in chains to the tribunals of Rome and Antioch. Senators,
matrons, and philosophers, expired in ignominious and cruel tortures. The
soldiers, who were appointed to guard the prisons, declared, with a murmur
of pity and indignation, that their numbers were insufficient to oppose
the flight, or resistance, of the multitude of captives. The wealthiest
families were ruined by fines and confiscations; the most innocent
citizens trembled for their safety; and we may form some notion of the
magnitude of the evil, from the extravagant assertion of an ancient
writer, that, in the obnoxious provinces, the prisoners, the exiles, and
the fugitives, formed the greatest part of the inhabitants. 52
Limus ut hic durescit, et hæc ut cera liquescit
Uno eodemque igni—Virgil. Bucolic. viii. 80.
Devovet absentes, simulacraque cerea figit.
—Ovid. in Epist. Hypsil. ad Jason 91.
When Tacitus describes the deaths of the innocent and illustrious Romans,
who were sacrificed to the cruelty of the first Cæsars, the art of the
historian, or the merit of the sufferers, excites in our breast the most
lively sensations of terror, of admiration, and of pity. The coarse and
undistinguishing pencil of Ammianus has delineated his bloody figures with
tedious and disgusting accuracy. But as our attention is no longer engaged
by the contrast of freedom and servitude, of recent greatness and of
actual misery, we should turn with horror from the frequent executions,
which disgraced, both at Rome and Antioch, the reign of the two brothers.
53
Valens was of a timid, 54 and Valentinian of a choleric, disposition.
55
An anxious regard to his personal safety was the ruling principle of the
administration of Valens. In the condition of a subject, he had kissed,
with trembling awe, the hand of the oppressor; and when he ascended the
throne, he reasonably expected, that the same fears, which had subdued his
own mind, would secure the patient submission of his people. The favorites
of Valens obtained, by the privilege of rapine and confiscation, the
wealth which his economy would have refused. 56 They urged, with
persuasive eloquence, that, in all cases of treason, suspicion is
equivalent to proof; that the power supposes the intention, of mischief;
that the intention is not less criminal than the act; and that a subject
no longer deserves to live, if his life may threaten the safety, or
disturb the repose, of his sovereign. The judgment of Valentinian was
sometimes deceived, and his confidence abused; but he would have silenced
the informers with a contemptuous smile, had they presumed to alarm his
fortitude by the sound of danger. They praised his inflexible love of
justice; and, in the pursuit of justice, the emperor was easily tempted to
consider clemency as a weakness, and passion as a virtue. As long as he
wrestled with his equals, in the bold competition of an active and
ambitious life, Valentinian was seldom injured, and never insulted, with
impunity: if his prudence was arraigned, his spirit was applauded; and the
proudest and most powerful generals were apprehensive of provoking the
resentment of a fearless soldier. After he became master of the world, he
unfortunately forgot, that where no resistance can be made, no courage can
be exerted; and instead of consulting the dictates of reason and
magnanimity, he indulged the furious emotions of his temper, at a time
when they were disgraceful to himself, and fatal to the defenceless
objects of his displeasure. In the government of his household, or of his
empire, slight, or even imaginary, offences—a hasty word, a casual
omission, an involuntary delay—were chastised by a sentence of
immediate death. The expressions which issued the most readily from the
mouth of the emperor of the West were, “Strike off his head;” “Burn him
alive;” “Let him be beaten with clubs till he expires;” 57
and his most favored ministers soon understood, that, by a rash attempt to
dispute, or suspend, the execution of his sanguinary commands, they might
involve themselves in the guilt and punishment of disobedience. The
repeated gratification of this savage justice hardened the mind of
Valentinian against pity and remorse; and the sallies of passion were
confirmed by the habits of cruelty. 58 He could behold with
calm satisfaction the convulsive agonies of torture and death; he reserved
his friendship for those faithful servants whose temper was the most
congenial to his own. The merit of Maximin, who had slaughtered the
noblest families of Rome, was rewarded with the royal approbation, and the
præfecture of Gaul.
Two fierce and enormous bears, distinguished by the appellations of
Innocence, and Mica Aurea, could alone deserve to share the favor of
Maximin. The cages of those trusty guards were always placed near the
bed-chamber of Valentinian, who frequently amused his eyes with the
grateful spectacle of seeing them tear and devour the bleeding limbs of
the malefactors who were abandoned to their rage. Their diet and exercises
were carefully inspected by the Roman emperor; and when Innocence had
earned her discharge, by a long course of meritorious service, the
faithful animal was again restored to the freedom of her native woods. 59
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
III.
But in the calmer moments of reflection, when the mind of Valens was not
agitated by fear, or that of Valentinian by rage, the tyrant resumed the
sentiments, or at least the conduct, of the father of his country. The
dispassionate judgment of the Western emperor could clearly perceive, and
accurately pursue, his own and the public interest; and the sovereign of
the East, who imitated with equal docility the various examples which he
received from his elder brother, was sometimes guided by the wisdom and
virtue of the præfect Sallust. Both princes invariably retained, in the
purple, the chaste and temperate simplicity which had adorned their
private life; and, under their reign, the pleasures of the court never
cost the people a blush or a sigh. They gradually reformed many of the
abuses of the times of Constantius; judiciously adopted and improved the
designs of Julian and his successor; and displayed a style and spirit of
legislation which might inspire posterity with the most favorable opinion
of their character and government. It is not from the master of Innocence,
that we should expect the tender regard for the welfare of his subjects,
which prompted Valentinian to condemn the exposition of new-born infants;
60
and to establish fourteen skilful physicians, with stipends and
privileges, in the fourteen quarters of Rome. The good sense of an
illiterate soldier founded a useful and liberal institution for the
education of youth, and the support of declining science. 61
It was his intention, that the arts of rhetoric and grammar should be
taught in the Greek and Latin languages, in the metropolis of every
province; and as the size and dignity of the school was usually
proportioned to the importance of the city, the academies of Rome and
Constantinople claimed a just and singular preëminence. The fragments of
the literary edicts of Valentinian imperfectly represent the school of
Constantinople, which was gradually improved by subsequent regulations.
That school consisted of thirty-one professors in different branches of
learning. One philosopher, and two lawyers; five sophists, and ten
grammarians for the Greek, and three orators, and ten grammarians for the
Latin tongue; besides seven scribes, or, as they were then styled,
antiquarians, whose laborious pens supplied the public library with fair
and correct copies of the classic writers. The rule of conduct, which was
prescribed to the students, is the more curious, as it affords the first
outlines of the form and discipline of a modern university. It was
required, that they should bring proper certificates from the magistrates
of their native province. Their names, professions, and places of abode,
were regularly entered in a public register.
The studious youth were severely prohibited from wasting their time in
feasts, or in the theatre; and the term of their education was limited to
the age of twenty. The præfect of the city was empowered to chastise the
idle and refractory by stripes or expulsion; and he was directed to make
an annual report to the master of the offices, that the knowledge and
abilities of the scholars might be usefully applied to the public service.
The institutions of Valentinian contributed to secure the benefits of
peace and plenty; and the cities were guarded by the establishment of the
Defensors; 62 freely elected as the tribunes and advocates
of the people, to support their rights, and to expose their grievances,
before the tribunals of the civil magistrates, or even at the foot of the
Imperial throne. The finances were diligently administered by two princes,
who had been so long accustomed to the rigid economy of a private fortune;
but in the receipt and application of the revenue, a discerning eye might
observe some difference between the government of the East and of the
West. Valens was persuaded, that royal liberality can be supplied only by
public oppression, and his ambition never aspired to secure, by their
actual distress, the future strength and prosperity of his people. Instead
of increasing the weight of taxes, which, in the space of forty years, had
been gradually doubled, he reduced, in the first years of his reign, one
fourth of the tribute of the East. 63 Valentinian appears
to have been less attentive and less anxious to relieve the burdens of his
people. He might reform the abuses of the fiscal administration; but he
exacted, without scruple, a very large share of the private property; as
he was convinced, that the revenues, which supported the luxury of
individuals, would be much more advantageously employed for the defence
and improvement of the state. The subjects of the East, who enjoyed the
present benefit, applauded the indulgence of their prince. The solid but
less splendid, merit of Valentinian was felt and acknowledged by the
subsequent generation. 64
But the most honorable circumstance of the character of Valentinian, is
the firm and temperate impartiality which he uniformly preserved in an age
of religious contention. His strong sense, unenlightened, but uncorrupted,
by study, declined, with respectful indifference, the subtle questions of
theological debate. The government of the Earth claimed his vigilance, and
satisfied his ambition; and while he remembered that he was the disciple
of the church, he never forgot that he was the sovereign of the clergy.
Under the reign of an apostate, he had signalized his zeal for the honor
of Christianity: he allowed to his subjects the privilege which he had
assumed for himself; and they might accept, with gratitude and confidence,
the general toleration which was granted by a prince addicted to passion,
but incapable of fear or of disguise. 65 The Pagans, the Jews,
and all the various sects which acknowledged the divine authority of
Christ, were protected by the laws from arbitrary power or popular insult;
nor was any mode of worship prohibited by Valentinian, except those secret
and criminal practices, which abused the name of religion for the dark
purposes of vice and disorder. The art of magic, as it was more cruelly
punished, was more strictly proscribed: but the emperor admitted a formal
distinction to protect the ancient methods of divination, which were
approved by the senate, and exercised by the Tuscan haruspices. He had
condemned, with the consent of the most rational Pagans, the license of
nocturnal sacrifices; but he immediately admitted the petition of
Prætextatus, proconsul of Achaia, who represented, that the life of the
Greeks would become dreary and comfortless, if they were deprived of the
invaluable blessing of the Eleusinian mysteries. Philosophy alone can
boast, (and perhaps it is no more than the boast of philosophy,) that her
gentle hand is able to eradicate from the human mind the latent and deadly
principle of fanaticism. But this truce of twelve years, which was
enforced by the wise and vigorous government of Valentinian, by suspending
the repetition of mutual injuries, contributed to soften the manners, and
abate the prejudices, of the religious factions.
The friend of toleration was unfortunately placed at a distance from the
scene of the fiercest controversies. As soon as the Christians of the West
had extricated themselves from the snares of the creed of Rimini, they
happily relapsed into the slumber of orthodoxy; and the small remains of
the Arian party, that still subsisted at Sirmium or Milan, might be
considered rather as objects of contempt than of resentment. But in the
provinces of the East, from the Euxine to the extremity of Thebais, the
strength and numbers of the hostile factions were more equally balanced;
and this equality, instead of recommending the counsels of peace, served
only to perpetuate the horrors of religious war. The monks and bishops
supported their arguments by invectives; and their invectives were
sometimes followed by blows. Athanasius still reigned at Alexandria; the
thrones of Constantinople and Antioch were occupied by Arian prelates, and
every episcopal vacancy was the occasion of a popular tumult. The
Homoousians were fortified by the reconciliation of fifty-nine Macelonian,
or Semi-Arian, bishops; but their secret reluctance to embrace the
divinity of the Holy Ghost, clouded the splendor of the triumph; and the
declaration of Valens, who, in the first years of his reign, had imitated
the impartial conduct of his brother, was an important victory on the side
of Arianism. The two brothers had passed their private life in the
condition of catechumens; but the piety of Valens prompted him to solicit
the sacrament of baptism, before he exposed his person to the dangers of a
Gothic war. He naturally addressed himself to Eudoxus, 66
6611 bishop of the Imperial city; and if the
ignorant monarch was instructed by that Arian pastor in the principles of
heterodox theology, his misfortune, rather than his guilt, was the
inevitable consequence of his erroneous choice. Whatever had been the
determination of the emperor, he must have offended a numerous party of
his Christian subjects; as the leaders both of the Homoousians and of the
Arians believed, that, if they were not suffered to reign, they were most
cruelly injured and oppressed. After he had taken this decisive step, it
was extremely difficult for him to preserve either the virtue, or the
reputation of impartiality. He never aspired, like Constantius, to the
fame of a profound theologian; but as he had received with simplicity and
respect the tenets of Euxodus, Valens resigned his conscience to the
direction of his ecclesiastical guides, and promoted, by the influence of
his authority, the reunion of the Athanasian heretics to the body of the
Catholic church. At first, he pitied their blindness; by degrees he was
provoked at their obstinacy; and he insensibly hated those sectaries to
whom he was an object of hatred. 67 The feeble mind of
Valens was always swayed by the persons with whom he familiarly conversed;
and the exile or imprisonment of a private citizen are the favors the most
readily granted in a despotic court. Such punishments were frequently
inflicted on the leaders of the Homoousian party; and the misfortune of
fourscore ecclesiastics of Constantinople, who, perhaps accidentally, were
burned on shipboard, was imputed to the cruel and premeditated malice of
the emperor, and his Arian ministers. In every contest, the Catholics (if
we may anticipate that name) were obliged to pay the penalty of their own
faults, and of those of their adversaries. In every election, the claims
of the Arian candidate obtained the preference; and if they were opposed
by the majority of the people, he was usually supported by the authority
of the civil magistrate, or even by the terrors of a military force. The
enemies of Athanasius attempted to disturb the last years of his venerable
age; and his temporary retreat to his father’s sepulchre has been
celebrated as a fifth exile. But the zeal of a great people, who instantly
flew to arms, intimidated the præfect: and the archbishop was permitted
to end his life in peace and in glory, after a reign of forty-seven years.
The death of Athanasius was the signal of the persecution of Egypt; and
the Pagan minister of Valens, who forcibly seated the worthless Lucius on
the archiepiscopal throne, purchased the favor of the reigning party, by
the blood and sufferings of their Christian brethren. The free toleration
of the heathen and Jewish worship was bitterly lamented, as a circumstance
which aggravated the misery of the Catholics, and the guilt of the impious
tyrant of the East. 68
The triumph of the orthodox party has left a deep stain of persecution on
the memory of Valens; and the character of a prince who derived his
virtues, as well as his vices, from a feeble understanding and a
pusillanimous temper, scarcely deserves the labor of an apology. Yet
candor may discover some reasons to suspect that the ecclesiastical
ministers of Valens often exceeded the orders, or even the intentions, of
their master; and that the real measure of facts has been very liberally
magnified by the vehement declamation and easy credulity of his
antagonists. 69 1. The silence of Valentinian may suggest a
probable argument that the partial severities, which were exercised in the
name and provinces of his colleague, amounted only to some obscure and
inconsiderable deviations from the established system of religious
toleration: and the judicious historian, who has praised the equal temper
of the elder brother, has not thought himself obliged to contrast the
tranquillity of the West with the cruel persecution of the East. 70
2. Whatever credit may be allowed to vague and distant reports, the
character, or at least the behavior, of Valens, may be most distinctly
seen in his personal transactions with the eloquent Basil, archbishop of
Cæsarea, who had succeeded Athanasius in the management of the
Trinitarian cause. 71 The circumstantial narrative has been
composed by the friends and admirers of Basil; and as soon as we have
stripped away a thick coat of rhetoric and miracle, we shall be astonished
by the unexpected mildness of the Arian tyrant, who admired the firmness
of his character, or was apprehensive, if he employed violence, of a
general revolt in the province of Cappadocia. The archbishop, who
asserted, with inflexible pride, 72 the truth of his
opinions, and the dignity of his rank, was left in the free possession of
his conscience and his throne. The emperor devoutly assisted at the solemn
service of the cathedral; and, instead of a sentence of banishment,
subscribed the donation of a valuable estate for the use of a hospital,
which Basil had lately founded in the neighborhood of Cæsarea. 73
3. I am not able to discover, that any law (such as Theodosius afterwards
enacted against the Arians) was published by Valens against the Athanasian
sectaries; and the edict which excited the most violent clamors, may not
appear so extremely reprehensible. The emperor had observed, that several
of his subjects, gratifying their lazy disposition under the pretence of
religion, had associated themselves with the monks of Egypt; and he
directed the count of the East to drag them from their solitude; and to
compel these deserters of society to accept the fair alternative of
renouncing their temporal possessions, or of discharging the public duties
of men and citizens. 74 The ministers of Valens seem to have extended
the sense of this penal statute, since they claimed a right of enlisting
the young and ablebodied monks in the Imperial armies. A detachment of
cavalry and infantry, consisting of three thousand men, marched from
Alexandria into the adjacent desert of Nitria, 75 which was peopled by
five thousand monks. The soldiers were conducted by Arian priests; and it
is reported, that a considerable slaughter was made in the monasteries
which disobeyed the commands of their sovereign. 76
The strict regulations which have been framed by the wisdom of modern
legislators to restrain the wealth and avarice of the clergy, may be
originally deduced from the example of the emperor Valentinian. His edict,
77
addressed to Damasus, bishop of Rome, was publicly read in the churches of
the city. He admonished the ecclesiastics and monks not to frequent the
houses of widows and virgins; and menaced their disobedience with the
animadversion of the civil judge. The director was no longer permitted to
receive any gift, or legacy, or inheritance, from the liberality of his
spiritual-daughter: every testament contrary to this edict was declared
null and void; and the illegal donation was confiscated for the use of the
treasury. By a subsequent regulation, it should seem, that the same
provisions were extended to nuns and bishops; and that all persons of the
ecclesiastical order were rendered incapable of receiving any testamentary
gifts, and strictly confined to the natural and legal rights of
inheritance. As the guardian of domestic happiness and virtue, Valentinian
applied this severe remedy to the growing evil. In the capital of the
empire, the females of noble and opulent houses possessed a very ample
share of independent property: and many of those devout females had
embraced the doctrines of Christianity, not only with the cold assent of
the understanding, but with the warmth of affection, and perhaps with the
eagerness of fashion. They sacrificed the pleasures of dress and luxury;
and renounced, for the praise of chastity, the soft endearments of
conjugal society. Some ecclesiastic, of real or apparent sanctity, was
chosen to direct their timorous conscience, and to amuse the vacant
tenderness of their heart: and the unbounded confidence, which they
hastily bestowed, was often abused by knaves and enthusiasts; who hastened
from the extremities of the East, to enjoy, on a splendid theatre, the
privileges of the monastic profession. By their contempt of the world,
they insensibly acquired its most desirable advantages; the lively
attachment, perhaps of a young and beautiful woman, the delicate plenty of
an opulent household, and the respectful homage of the slaves, the
freedmen, and the clients of a senatorial family. The immense fortunes of
the Roman ladies were gradually consumed in lavish alms and expensive
pilgrimages; and the artful monk, who had assigned himself the first, or
possibly the sole place, in the testament of his spiritual daughter, still
presumed to declare, with the smooth face of hypocrisy, that he was only
the instrument of charity, and the steward of the poor. The lucrative, but
disgraceful, trade, 78 which was exercised by the clergy to defraud
the expectations of the natural heirs, had provoked the indignation of a
superstitious age: and two of the most respectable of the Latin fathers
very honestly confess, that the ignominious edict of Valentinian was just
and necessary; and that the Christian priests had deserved to lose a
privilege, which was still enjoyed by comedians, charioteers, and the
ministers of idols. But the wisdom and authority of the legislator are
seldom victorious in a contest with the vigilant dexterity of private
interest; and Jerom, or Ambrose, might patiently acquiesce in the justice
of an ineffectual or salutary law. If the ecclesiastics were checked in
the pursuit of personal emolument, they would exert a more laudable
industry to increase the wealth of the church; and dignify their
covetousness with the specious names of piety and patriotism. 79
Damasus, bishop of Rome, who was constrained to stigmatize the avarice of
his clergy by the publication of the law of Valentinian, had the good
sense, or the good fortune, to engage in his service the zeal and
abilities of the learned Jerom; and the grateful saint has celebrated the
merit and purity of a very ambiguous character. 80 But the splendid
vices of the church of Rome, under the reign of Valentinian and Damasus,
have been curiously observed by the historian Ammianus, who delivers his
impartial sense in these expressive words: “The præfecture of Juventius
was accompanied with peace and plenty, but the tranquillity of his
government was soon disturbed by a bloody sedition of the distracted
people. The ardor of Damasus and Ursinus, to seize the episcopal seat,
surpassed the ordinary measure of human ambition. They contended with the
rage of party; the quarrel was maintained by the wounds and death of their
followers; and the præfect, unable to resist or appease the tumult, was
constrained, by superior violence, to retire into the suburbs. Damasus
prevailed: the well-disputed victory remained on the side of his faction;
one hundred and thirty-seven dead bodies 81 were found in the
Basilica of Sicininus, 82 where the Christians hold their religious
assemblies; and it was long before the angry minds of the people resumed
their accustomed tranquillity. When I consider the splendor of the
capital, I am not astonished that so valuable a prize should inflame the
desires of ambitious men, and produce the fiercest and most obstinate
contests. The successful candidate is secure, that he will be enriched by
the offerings of matrons; 83 that, as soon as his dress is composed with
becoming care and elegance, he may proceed, in his chariot, through the
streets of Rome; 84 and that the sumptuousness of the Imperial
table will not equal the profuse and delicate entertainments provided by
the taste, and at the expense, of the Roman pontiffs. How much more
rationally (continues the honest Pagan) would those pontiffs consult their
true happiness, if, instead of alleging the greatness of the city as an
excuse for their manners, they would imitate the exemplary life of some
provincial bishops, whose temperance and sobriety, whose mean apparel and
downcast looks, recommend their pure and modest virtue to the Deity and
his true worshippers!” 85 The schism of Damasus and Ursinus was
extinguished by the exile of the latter; and the wisdom of the præfect
Prætextatus 86 restored the tranquillity of the city.
Prætextatus was a philosophic Pagan, a man of learning, of taste, and
politeness; who disguised a reproach in the form of a jest, when he
assured Damasus, that if he could obtain the bishopric of Rome, he himself
would immediately embrace the Christian religion. 87 This lively picture
of the wealth and luxury of the popes in the fourth century becomes the
more curious, as it represents the intermediate degree between the humble
poverty of the apostolic fishermen, and the royal state of a temporal
prince, whose dominions extend from the confines of Naples to the banks of
the Po.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
IV.
When the suffrage of the generals and of the army committed the sceptre of
the Roman empire to the hands of Valentinian, his reputation in arms, his
military skill and experience, and his rigid attachment to the forms, as
well as spirit, of ancient discipline, were the principal motives of their
judicious choice.
The eagerness of the troops, who pressed him to nominate his colleague,
was justified by the dangerous situation of public affairs; and
Valentinian himself was conscious, that the abilities of the most active
mind were unequal to the defence of the distant frontiers of an invaded
monarchy. As soon as the death of Julian had relieved the Barbarians from
the terror of his name, the most sanguine hopes of rapine and conquest
excited the nations of the East, of the North, and of the South. Their
inroads were often vexatious, and sometimes formidable; but, during the
twelve years of the reign of Valentinian, his firmness and vigilance
protected his own dominions; and his powerful genius seemed to inspire and
direct the feeble counsels of his brother. Perhaps the method of annals
would more forcibly express the urgent and divided cares of the two
emperors; but the attention of the reader, likewise, would be distracted
by a tedious and desultory narrative. A separate view of the five great
theatres of war; I. Germany; II. Britain; III. Africa; IV. The East; and,
V. The Danube; will impress a more distinct image of the military state of
the empire under the reigns of Valentinian and Valens.
I. The ambassadors of the Alemanni had been offended by the harsh and
haughty behavior of Ursacius, master of the offices; 88
who by an act of unseasonable parsimony, had diminished the value, as well
as the quantity, of the presents to which they were entitled, either from
custom or treaty, on the accession of a new emperor. They expressed, and
they communicated to their countrymen, their strong sense of the national
affront. The irascible minds of the chiefs were exasperated by the
suspicion of contempt; and the martial youth crowded to their standard.
Before Valentinian could pass the Alps, the villages of Gaul were in
flames; before his general Degalaiphus could encounter the Alemanni, they
had secured the captives and the spoil in the forests of Germany. In the
beginning of the ensuing year, the military force of the whole nation, in
deep and solid columns, broke through the barrier of the Rhine, during the
severity of a northern winter. Two Roman counts were defeated and mortally
wounded; and the standard of the Heruli and Batavians fell
into the hands of the conquerors, who
displayed, with insulting shouts and menaces, the trophy of their victory.
The standard was recovered; but the Batavians had not redeemed the shame
of their disgrace and flight in the eyes of their severe judge. It was the
opinion of Valentinian, that his soldiers must learn to fear their
commander, before they could cease to fear the enemy. The troops were
solemnly assembled; and the trembling Batavians were enclosed within the
circle of the Imperial army. Valentinian then ascended his tribunal; and,
as if he disdained to punish cowardice with death, he inflicted a stain of
indelible ignominy on the officers, whose misconduct and pusillanimity
were found to be the first occasion of the defeat. The Batavians were
degraded from their rank, stripped of their arms, and condemned to be sold
for slaves to the highest bidder. At this tremendous sentence, the troops
fell prostrate on the ground, deprecated the indignation of their
sovereign, and protested, that, if he would indulge them in another trial,
they would approve themselves not unworthy of the name of Romans, and of
his soldiers. Valentinian, with affected reluctance, yielded to their
entreaties; the Batavians resumed their arms, and with their arms, the
invincible resolution of wiping away their disgrace in the blood of the
Alemanni. 89 The principal command was declined by
Dagalaiphus; and that experienced general, who had represented, perhaps
with too much prudence, the extreme difficulties of the undertaking, had
the mortification, before the end of the campaign, of seeing his rival
Jovinus convert those difficulties into a decisive advantage over the
scattered forces of the Barbarians. At the head of a well-disciplined army
of cavalry, infantry, and light troops, Jovinus advanced, with cautious
and rapid steps, to Scarponna, 90 9011
in the territory of Metz, where he surprised a large division of the
Alemanni, before they had time to run to their arms; and flushed his
soldiers with the confidence of an easy and bloodless victory. Another
division, or rather army, of the enemy, after the cruel and wanton
devastation of the adjacent country, reposed themselves on the shady banks
of the Moselle. Jovinus, who had viewed the ground with the eye of a
general, made a silent approach through a deep and woody vale, till he
could distinctly perceive the indolent security of the Germans. Some were
bathing their huge limbs in the river; others were combing their long and
flaxen hair; others again were swallowing large draughts of rich and
delicious wine. On a sudden they heard the sound of the Roman trumpet;
they saw the enemy in their camp. Astonishment produced disorder; disorder
was followed by flight and dismay; and the confused multitude of the
bravest warriors was pierced by the swords and javelins of the legionaries
and auxiliaries. The fugitives escaped to the third, and most
considerable, camp, in the Catalonian plains, near Châlons in Champagne:
the straggling detachments were hastily recalled to their standard; and
the Barbarian chiefs, alarmed and admonished by the fate of their
companions, prepared to encounter, in a decisive battle, the victorious
forces of the lieutenant of Valentinian. The bloody and obstinate conflict
lasted a whole summer’s day, with equal valor, and with alternate success.
The Romans at length prevailed, with the loss of about twelve hundred men.
Six thousand of the Alemanni were slain, four thousand were wounded; and
the brave Jovinus, after chasing the flying remnant of their host as far
as the banks of the Rhine, returned to Paris, to receive the applause of
his sovereign, and the ensigns of the consulship for the ensuing year. 91
The triumph of the Romans was indeed sullied by their treatment of the
captive king, whom they hung on a gibbet, without the knowledge of their
indignant general. This disgraceful act of cruelty, which might be imputed
to the fury of the troops, was followed by the deliberate murder of
Withicab, the son of Vadomair; a German prince, of a weak and sickly
constitution, but of a daring and formidable spirit. The domestic assassin
was instigated and protected by the Romans; 92 and the violation of
the laws of humanity and justice betrayed their secret apprehension of the
weakness of the declining empire. The use of the dagger is seldom adopted
in public councils, as long as they retain any confidence in the power of
the sword.
While the Alemanni appeared to be humbled by their recent calamities, the
pride of Valentinian was mortified by the unexpected surprisal of
Moguntiacum, or Mentz, the principal city of the Upper Germany. In the
unsuspicious moment of a Christian festival, 9211 Rando, a bold
and artful chieftain, who had long meditated his attempt, suddenly passed
the Rhine; entered the defenceless town, and retired with a multitude of
captives of either sex. Valentinian resolved to execute severe vengeance
on the whole body of the nation. Count Sebastian, with the bands of Italy
and Illyricum, was ordered to invade their country, most probably on the
side of Rhætia. The emperor in person, accompanied by his son Gratian,
passed the Rhine at the head of a formidable army, which was supported on
both flanks by Jovinus and Severus, the two masters-general of the cavalry
and infantry of the West. The Alemanni, unable to prevent the devastation
of their villages, fixed their camp on a lofty, and almost inaccessible,
mountain, in the modern duchy of Wirtemberg, and resolutely expected the
approach of the Romans. The life of Valentinian was exposed to imminent
danger by the intrepid curiosity with which he persisted to explore some
secret and unguarded path. A troop of Barbarians suddenly rose from their
ambuscade: and the emperor, who vigorously spurred his horse down a steep
and slippery descent, was obliged to leave behind him his armor-bearer,
and his helmet, magnificently enriched with gold and precious stones. At
the signal of the general assault, the Roman troops encompassed and
ascended the mountain of Solicinium on three different sides. 9212
Every step which they gained, increased their ardor, and abated the
resistance of the enemy: and after their united forces had occupied the
summit of the hill, they impetuously urged the Barbarians down the
northern descent, where Count Sebastian was posted to intercept their
retreat. After this signal victory, Valentinian returned to his winter
quarters at Treves; where he indulged the public joy by the exhibition of
splendid and triumphal games. 93 But the wise monarch,
instead of aspiring to the conquest of Germany, confined his attention to
the important and laborious defence of the Gallic frontier, against an
enemy whose strength was renewed by a stream of daring volunteers, which
incessantly flowed from the most distant tribes of the North. 94
The banks of the Rhine 9411 from its source to the straits of the
ocean, were closely planted with strong castles and convenient towers; new
works, and new arms, were invented by the ingenuity of a prince who was
skilled in the mechanical arts; and his numerous levies of Roman and
Barbarian youth were severely trained in all the exercises of war. The
progress of the work, which was sometimes opposed by modest
representations, and sometimes by hostile attempts, secured the
tranquillity of Gaul during the nine subsequent years of the
administration of Valentinian. 95
That prudent emperor, who diligently practised the wise maxims of
Diocletian, was studious to foment and excite the intestine divisions of
the tribes of Germany. About the middle of the fourth century, the
countries, perhaps of Lusace and Thuringia, on either side of the Elbe,
were occupied by the vague dominion of the Burgundians; a warlike and
numerous people, 9511 of the Vandal race, 96
whose obscure name insensibly swelled into a powerful kingdom, and has
finally settled on a flourishing province. The most remarkable
circumstance in the ancient manners of the Burgundians appears to have
been the difference of their civil and ecclesiastical constitution. The
appellation of Hendinos was given to the king or general, and the title of
Sinistus to the high priest, of the nation. The person of the priest was
sacred, and his dignity perpetual; but the temporal government was held by
a very precarious tenure. If the events of war accuses the courage or
conduct of the king, he was immediately deposed; and the injustice of his
subjects made him responsible for the fertility of the earth, and the
regularity of the seasons, which seemed to fall more properly within the
sacerdotal department. 97 The disputed possession of some salt-pits 98
engaged the Alemanni and the Burgundians in frequent contests: the latter
were easily tempted, by the secret solicitations and liberal offers of the
emperor; and their fabulous descent from the Roman soldiers, who had
formerly been left to garrison the fortresses of Drusus, was admitted with
mutual credulity, as it was conducive to mutual interest. 99
An army of fourscore thousand Burgundians soon appeared on the banks of
the Rhine; and impatiently required the support and subsidies which
Valentinian had promised: but they were amused with excuses and delays,
till at length, after a fruitless expectation, they were compelled to
retire. The arms and fortifications of the Gallic frontier checked the
fury of their just resentment; and their massacre of the captives served
to imbitter the hereditary feud of the Burgundians and the Alemanni. The
inconstancy of a wise prince may, perhaps, be explained by some alteration
of circumstances; and perhaps it was the original design of Valentinian to
intimidate, rather than to destroy; as the balance of power would have
been equally overturned by the extirpation of either of the German
nations. Among the princes of the Alemanni, Macrianus, who, with a Roman
name, had assumed the arts of a soldier and a statesman, deserved his
hatred and esteem. The emperor himself, with a light and unencumbered
band, condescended to pass the Rhine, marched fifty miles into the
country, and would infallibly have seized the object of his pursuit, if
his judicious measures had not been defeated by the impatience of the
troops. Macrianus was afterwards admitted to the honor of a personal
conference with the emperor; and the favors which he received, fixed him,
till the hour of his death, a steady and sincere friend of the republic.
100
The land was covered by the fortifications of Valentinian; but the
sea-coast of Gaul and Britain was exposed to the depredations of the
Saxons. That celebrated name, in which we have a dear and domestic
interest, escaped the notice of Tacitus; and in the maps of Ptolemy, it
faintly marks the narrow neck of the Cimbric peninsula, and three small
islands towards the mouth of the Elbe. 101 This contracted
territory, the present duchy of Sleswig, or perhaps of Holstein, was
incapable of pouring forth the inexhaustible swarms of Saxons who reigned
over the ocean, who filled the British island with their language, their
laws, and their colonies; and who so long defended the liberty of the
North against the arms of Charlemagne. 102 The solution of
this difficulty is easily derived from the similar manners, and loose
constitution, of the tribes of Germany; which were blended with each other
by the slightest accidents of war or friendship. The situation of the
native Saxons disposed them to embrace the hazardous professions of
fishermen and pirates; and the success of their first adventures would
naturally excite the emulation of their bravest countrymen, who were
impatient of the gloomy solitude of their woods and mountains. Every tide
might float down the Elbe whole fleets of canoes, filled with hardy and
intrepid associates, who aspired to behold the unbounded prospect of the
ocean, and to taste the wealth and luxury of unknown worlds. It should
seem probable, however, that the most numerous auxiliaries of the Saxons
were furnished by the nations who dwelt along the shores of the Baltic.
They possessed arms and ships, the art of navigation, and the habits of
naval war; but the difficulty of issuing through the northern columns of
Hercules 103 (which, during several months of the year,
are obstructed with ice) confined their skill and courage within the
limits of a spacious lake. The rumor of the successful armaments which
sailed from the mouth of the Elbe, would soon provoke them to cross the
narrow isthmus of Sleswig, and to launch their vessels on the great sea.
The various troops of pirates and adventurers, who fought under the same
standard, were insensibly united in a permanent society, at first of
rapine, and afterwards of government. A military confederation was
gradually moulded into a national body, by the gentle operation of
marriage and consanguinity; and the adjacent tribes, who solicited the
alliance, accepted the name and laws, of the Saxons. If the fact were not
established by the most unquestionable evidence, we should appear to abuse
the credulity of our readers, by the description of the vessels in which
the Saxon pirates ventured to sport in the waves of the German Ocean, the
British Channel, and the Bay of Biscay. The keel of their large
flat-bottomed boats were framed of light timber, but the sides and upper
works consisted only of wicker, with a covering of strong hides. 104
In the course of their slow and distant navigations, they must always have
been exposed to the danger, and very frequently to the misfortune, of
shipwreck; and the naval annals of the Saxons were undoubtedly filled with
the accounts of the losses which they sustained on the coasts of Britain
and Gaul. But the daring spirit of the pirates braved the perils both of
the sea and of the shore: their skill was confirmed by the habits of
enterprise; the meanest of their mariners was alike capable of handling an
oar, of rearing a sail, or of conducting a vessel, and the Saxons rejoiced
in the appearance of a tempest, which concealed their design, and
dispersed the fleets of the enemy. 105 After they had
acquired an accurate knowledge of the maritime provinces of the West, they
extended the scene of their depredations, and the most sequestered places
had no reason to presume on their security. The Saxon boats drew so little
water that they could easily proceed fourscore or a hundred miles up the
great rivers; their weight was so inconsiderable, that they were
transported on wagons from one river to another; and the pirates who had
entered the mouth of the Seine, or of the Rhine, might descend, with the
rapid stream of the Rhone, into the Mediterranean. Under the reign of
Valentinian, the maritime provinces of Gaul were afflicted by the Saxons:
a military count was stationed for the defence of the sea-coast, or
Armorican limit; and that officer, who found his strength, or his
abilities, unequal to the task, implored the assistance of Severus,
master-general of the infantry. The Saxons, surrounded and outnumbered,
were forced to relinquish their spoil, and to yield a select band of their
tall and robust youth to serve in the Imperial armies. They stipulated
only a safe and honorable retreat; and the condition was readily granted
by the Roman general, who meditated an act of perfidy, 106
imprudent as it was inhuman, while a Saxon remained alive, and in arms, to
revenge the fate of their countrymen. The premature eagerness of the
infantry, who were secretly posted in a deep valley, betrayed the
ambuscade; and they would perhaps have fallen the victims of their own
treachery, if a large body of cuirassiers, alarmed by the noise of the
combat, had not hastily advanced to extricate their companions, and to
overwhelm the undaunted valor of the Saxons. Some of the prisoners were
saved from the edge of the sword, to shed their blood in the amphitheatre;
and the orator Symmachus complains, that twenty-nine of those desperate
savages, by strangling themselves with their own hands, had disappointed
the amusement of the public. Yet the polite and philosophic citizens of
Rome were impressed with the deepest horror, when they were informed, that
the Saxons consecrated to the gods the tithe of their human spoil; and
that they ascertained by lot the objects of the barbarous sacrifice. 107
The genius of Cæsar imitated, for a particular service, these rude, but
light vessels, which were likewise used by the natives of Britain.
(Comment. de Bell. Civil. i. 51, and Guichardt, Nouveaux Mémoires
Militaires, tom. ii. p. 41, 42.) The British vessels would now astonish
the genius of Cæsar.]
II. The fabulous colonies of Egyptians and Trojans, of Scandinavians and
Spaniards, which flattered the pride, and amused the credulity, of our
rude ancestors, have insensibly vanished in the light of science and
philosophy. 108 The present age is satisfied with the
simple and rational opinion, that the islands of Great Britain and Ireland
were gradually peopled from the adjacent continent of Gaul. From the coast
of Kent, to the extremity of Caithness and Ulster, the memory of a Celtic
origin was distinctly preserved, in the perpetual resemblance of language,
of religion, and of manners; and the peculiar characters of the British
tribes might be naturally ascribed to the influence of accidental and
local circumstances. 109 The Roman Province was reduced to the state
of civilized and peaceful servitude; the rights of savage freedom were
contracted to the narrow limits of Caledonia. The inhabitants of that
northern region were divided, as early as the reign of Constantine,
between the two great tribes of the Scots and of the Picts, 110
who have since experienced a very different fortune. The power, and almost
the memory, of the Picts have been extinguished by their successful
rivals; and the Scots, after maintaining for ages the dignity of an
independent kingdom, have multiplied, by an equal and voluntary union, the
honors of the English name. The hand of nature had contributed to mark the
ancient distinctions of the Scots and Picts. The former were the men of
the hills, and the latter those of the plain. The eastern coast of
Caledonia may be considered as a level and fertile country, which, even in
a rude state of tillage, was capable of producing a considerable quantity
of corn; and the epithet of cruitnich, or wheat-eaters, expressed the
contempt or envy of the carnivorous highlander. The cultivation of the
earth might introduce a more accurate separation of property, and the
habits of a sedentary life; but the love of arms and rapine was still the
ruling passion of the Picts; and their warriors, who stripped themselves
for a day of battle, were distinguished, in the eyes of the Romans, by the
strange fashion of painting their naked bodies with gaudy colors and
fantastic figures. The western part of Caledonia irregularly rises into
wild and barren hills, which scarcely repay the toil of the husbandman,
and are most profitably used for the pasture of cattle. The highlanders
were condemned to the occupations of shepherds and hunters; and, as they
seldom were fixed to any permanent habitation, they acquired the
expressive name of Scots, which, in the Celtic tongue, is said to be
equivalent to that of wanderers, or vagrants. The inhabitants of a barren
land were urged to seek a fresh supply of food in the waters. The deep
lakes and bays which intersect their country, are plentifully supplied
with fish; and they gradually ventured to cast their nets in the waves of
the ocean. The vicinity of the Hebrides, so profusely scattered along the
western coast of Scotland, tempted their curiosity, and improved their
skill; and they acquired, by slow degrees, the art, or rather the habit,
of managing their boats in a tempestuous sea, and of steering their
nocturnal course by the light of the well-known stars. The two bold
headlands of Caledonia almost touch the shores of a spacious island, which
obtained, from its luxuriant vegetation, the epithet of Green; and has
preserved, with a slight alteration, the name of Erin, or Ierne, or
Ireland. It is probable, that in some remote period of antiquity, the
fertile plains of Ulster received a colony of hungry Scots; and that the
strangers of the North, who had dared to encounter the arms of the
legions, spread their conquests over the savage and unwarlike natives of a
solitary island. It is certain, that, in the declining age of the Roman
empire, Caledonia, Ireland, and the Isle of Man, were inhabited by the
Scots, and that the kindred tribes, who were often associated in military
enterprise, were deeply affected by the various accidents of their mutual
fortunes. They long cherished the lively tradition of their common name
and origin; and the missionaries of the Isle of Saints, who diffused the
light of Christianity over North Britain, established the vain opinion,
that their Irish countrymen were the natural, as well as spiritual,
fathers of the Scottish race. The loose and obscure tradition has been
preserved by the venerable Bede, who scattered some rays of light over the
darkness of the eighth century. On this slight foundation, a huge
superstructure of fable was gradually reared, by the bards and the monks;
two orders of men, who equally abused the privilege of fiction. The
Scottish nation, with mistaken pride, adopted their Irish genealogy; and
the annals of a long line of imaginary kings have been adorned by the
fancy of Boethius, and the classic elegance of Buchanan. 111
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
V.
Six years after the death of Constantine, the destructive inroads of the
Scots and Picts required the presence of his youngest son, who reigned in
the Western empire. Constans visited his British dominions: but we may
form some estimate of the importance of his achievements, by the language
of panegyric, which celebrates only his triumph over the elements or, in
other words, the good fortune of a safe and easy passage from the port of
Boulogne to the harbor of Sandwich. 112 The calamities
which the afflicted provincials continued to experience, from foreign war
and domestic tyranny, were aggravated by the feeble and corrupt
administration of the eunuchs of Constantius; and the transient relief
which they might obtain from the virtues of Julian, was soon lost by the
absence and death of their benefactor. The sums of gold and silver, which
had been painfully collected, or liberally transmitted, for the payment of
the troops, were intercepted by the avarice of the commanders; discharges,
or, at least, exemptions, from the military service, were publicly sold;
the distress of the soldiers, who were injuriously deprived of their legal
and scanty subsistence, provoked them to frequent desertion; the nerves of
discipline were relaxed, and the highways were infested with robbers. 113
The oppression of the good, and the impunity of the wicked, equally
contributed to diffuse through the island a spirit of discontent and
revolt; and every ambitious subject, every desperate exile, might
entertain a reasonable hope of subverting the weak and distracted
government of Britain. The hostile tribes of the North, who detested the
pride and power of the King of the World, suspended their domestic feuds;
and the Barbarians of the land and sea, the Scots, the Picts, and the
Saxons, spread themselves with rapid and irresistible fury, from the wall
of Antoninus to the shores of Kent. Every production of art and nature,
every object of convenience and luxury, which they were incapable of
creating by labor or procuring by trade, was accumulated in the rich and
fruitful province of Britain. 114 A philosopher may
deplore the eternal discords of the human race, but he will confess, that
the desire of spoil is a more rational provocation than the vanity of
conquest. From the age of Constantine to the Plantagenets, this rapacious
spirit continued to instigate the poor and hardy Caledonians; but the same
people, whose generous humanity seems to inspire the songs of Ossian, was
disgraced by a savage ignorance of the virtues of peace, and of the laws
of war. Their southern neighbors have felt, and perhaps exaggerated, the
cruel depredations of the Scots and Picts; 115 and a valiant
tribe of Caledonia, the Attacotti, 116 the enemies, and
afterwards the soldiers, of Valentinian, are accused, by an eye-witness,
of delighting in the taste of human flesh. When they hunted the woods for
prey, it is said, that they attacked the shepherd rather than his flock;
and that they curiously selected the most delicate and brawny parts, both
of males and females, which they prepared for their horrid repasts. 117
If, in the neighborhood of the commercial and literary town of Glasgow, a
race of cannibals has really existed, we may contemplate, in the period of
the Scottish history, the opposite extremes of savage and civilized life.
Such reflections tend to enlarge the circle of our ideas; and to encourage
the pleasing hope, that New Zealand may produce, in some future age, the
Hume of the Southern Hemisphere.
Every messenger who escaped across the British Channel, conveyed the most
melancholy and alarming tidings to the ears of Valentinian; and the
emperor was soon informed that the two military commanders of the province
had been surprised and cut off by the Barbarians. Severus, count of the
domestics, was hastily despatched, and as suddenly recalled, by the court
of Treves. The representations of Jovinus served only to indicate the
greatness of the evil; and, after a long and serious consultation, the
defence, or rather the recovery, of Britain was intrusted to the abilities
of the brave Theodosius. The exploits of that general, the father of a
line of emperors, have been celebrated, with peculiar complacency, by the
writers of the age: but his real merit deserved their applause; and his
nomination was received, by the army and province, as a sure presage of
approaching victory. He seized the favorable moment of navigation, and
securely landed the numerous and veteran bands of the Heruli and
Batavians, the Jovians and the Victors. In his march from Sandwich to
London, Theodosius defeated several parties of the Barbarians, released a
multitude of captives, and, after distributing to his soldiers a small
portion of the spoil, established the fame of disinterested justice, by
the restitution of the remainder to the rightful proprietors. The citizens
of London, who had almost despaired of their safety, threw open their
gates; and as soon as Theodosius had obtained from the court of Treves the
important aid of a military lieutenant, and a civil governor, he executed,
with wisdom and vigor, the laborious task of the deliverance of Britain.
The vagrant soldiers were recalled to their standard; an edict of amnesty
dispelled the public apprehensions; and his cheerful example alleviated
the rigor of martial discipline. The scattered and desultory warfare of
the Barbarians, who infested the land and sea, deprived him of the glory
of a signal victory; but the prudent spirit, and consummate art, of the
Roman general, were displayed in the operations of two campaigns, which
successively rescued every part of the province from the hands of a cruel
and rapacious enemy. The splendor of the cities, and the security of the
fortifications, were diligently restored, by the paternal care of
Theodosius; who with a strong hand confined the trembling Caledonians to
the northern angle of the island; and perpetuated, by the name and
settlement of the new province of Valentia, the glories of the reign of
Valentinian. 118 The voice of poetry and panegyric may add,
perhaps with some degree of truth, that the unknown regions of Thule were
stained with the blood of the Picts; that the oars of Theodosius dashed
the waves of the Hyperborean ocean; and that the distant Orkneys were the
scene of his naval victory over the Saxon pirates. 119
He left the province with a fair, as well as splendid, reputation; and was
immediately promoted to the rank of master-general of the cavalry, by a
prince who could applaud, without envy, the merit of his servants. In the
important station of the Upper Danube, the conqueror of Britain checked
and defeated the armies of the Alemanni, before he was chosen to suppress
the revolt of Africa.
III. The prince who refuses to be the judge, instructs the people to
consider him as the accomplice, of his ministers. The military command of
Africa had been long exercised by Count Romanus, and his abilities were
not inadequate to his station; but, as sordid interest was the sole motive
of his conduct, he acted, on most occasions, as if he had been the enemy
of the province, and the friend of the Barbarians of the desert. The three
flourishing cities of Oea, Leptis, and Sobrata, which, under the name of
Tripoli, had long constituted a federal union, 120 were obliged, for
the first time, to shut their gates against a hostile invasion; several of
their most honorable citizens were surprised and massacred; the villages,
and even the suburbs, were pillaged; and the vines and fruit trees of that
rich territory were extirpated by the malicious savages of Getulia. The
unhappy provincials implored the protection of Romanus; but they soon
found that their military governor was not less cruel and rapacious than
the Barbarians. As they were incapable of furnishing the four thousand
camels, and the exorbitant present, which he required, before he would
march to the assistance of Tripoli; his demand was equivalent to a
refusal, and he might justly be accused as the author of the public
calamity. In the annual assembly of the three cities, they nominated two
deputies, to lay at the feet of Valentinian the customary offering of a
gold victory; and to accompany this tribute of duty, rather than of
gratitude, with their humble complaint, that they were ruined by the
enemy, and betrayed by their governor. If the severity of Valentinian had
been rightly directed, it would have fallen on the guilty head of Romanus.
But the count, long exercised in the arts of corruption, had despatched a
swift and trusty messenger to secure the venal friendship of Remigius,
master of the offices. The wisdom of the Imperial council was deceived by
artifice; and their honest indignation was cooled by delay. At length,
when the repetition of complaint had been justified by the repetition of
public misfortunes, the notary Palladius was sent from the court of
Treves, to examine the state of Africa, and the conduct of Romanus. The
rigid impartiality of Palladius was easily disarmed: he was tempted to
reserve for himself a part of the public treasure, which he brought with
him for the payment of the troops; and from the moment that he was
conscious of his own guilt, he could no longer refuse to attest the
innocence and merit of the count. The charge of the Tripolitans was
declared to be false and frivolous; and Palladius himself was sent back
from Treves to Africa, with a special commission to discover and prosecute
the authors of this impious conspiracy against the representatives of the
sovereign. His inquiries were managed with so much dexterity and success,
that he compelled the citizens of Leptis, who had sustained a recent siege
of eight days, to contradict the truth of their own decrees, and to
censure the behavior of their own deputies. A bloody sentence was
pronounced, without hesitation, by the rash and headstrong cruelty of
Valentinian. The president of Tripoli, who had presumed to pity the
distress of the province, was publicly executed at Utica; four
distinguished citizens were put to death, as the accomplices of the
imaginary fraud; and the tongues of two others were cut out, by the
express order of the emperor. Romanus, elated by impunity, and irritated
by resistance, was still continued in the military command; till the
Africans were provoked, by his avarice, to join the rebellious standard of
Firmus, the Moor. 121
His father Nabal was one of the richest and most powerful of the Moorish
princes, who acknowledged the supremacy of Rome. But as he left, either by
his wives or concubines, a very numerous posterity, the wealthy
inheritance was eagerly disputed; and Zamma, one of his sons, was slain in
a domestic quarrel by his brother Firmus. The implacable zeal, with which
Romanus prosecuted the legal revenge of this murder, could be ascribed
only to a motive of avarice, or personal hatred; but, on this occasion,
his claims were just; his influence was weighty; and Firmus clearly
understood, that he must either present his neck to the executioner, or
appeal from the sentence of the Imperial consistory, to his sword, and to
the people. 122 He was received as the deliverer of his
country; and, as soon as it appeared that Romanus was formidable only to a
submissive province, the tyrant of Africa became the object of universal
contempt. The ruin of Cæsarea, which was plundered and burnt by the
licentious Barbarians, convinced the refractory cities of the danger of
resistance; the power of Firmus was established, at least in the provinces
of Mauritania and Numidia; and it seemed to be his only doubt whether he
should assume the diadem of a Moorish king, or the purple of a Roman
emperor. But the imprudent and unhappy Africans soon discovered, that, in
this rash insurrection, they had not sufficiently consulted their own
strength, or the abilities of their leader. Before he could procure any
certain intelligence, that the emperor of the West had fixed the choice of
a general, or that a fleet of transports was collected at the mouth of the
Rhone, he was suddenly informed that the great Theodosius, with a small
band of veterans, had landed near Igilgilis, or Gigeri, on the African
coast; and the timid usurper sunk under the ascendant of virtue and
military genius. Though Firmus possessed arms and treasures, his despair
of victory immediately reduced him to the use of those arts, which, in the
same country, and in a similar situation, had formerly been practised by
the crafty Jugurtha. He attempted to deceive, by an apparent submission,
the vigilance of the Roman general; to seduce the fidelity of his troops;
and to protract the duration of the war, by successively engaging the
independent tribes of Africa to espouse his quarrel, or to protect his
flight. Theodosius imitated the example, and obtained the success, of his
predecessor Metellus. When Firmus, in the character of a suppliant,
accused his own rashness, and humbly solicited the clemency of the
emperor, the lieutenant of Valentinian received and dismissed him with a
friendly embrace: but he diligently required the useful and substantial
pledges of a sincere repentance; nor could he be persuaded, by the
assurances of peace, to suspend, for an instant, the operations of an
active war. A dark conspiracy was detected by the penetration of
Theodosius; and he satisfied, without much reluctance, the public
indignation, which he had secretly excited. Several of the guilty
accomplices of Firmus were abandoned, according to ancient custom, to the
tumult of a military execution; many more, by the amputation of both their
hands, continued to exhibit an instructive spectacle of horror; the hatred
of the rebels was accompanied with fear; and the fear of the Roman
soldiers was mingled with respectful admiration. Amidst the boundless
plains of Getulia, and the innumerable valleys of Mount Atlas, it was
impossible to prevent the escape of Firmus; and if the usurper could have
tired the patience of his antagonist, he would have secured his person in
the depth of some remote solitude, and expected the hopes of a future
revolution. He was subdued by the perseverance of Theodosius; who had
formed an inflexible determination, that the war should end only by the
death of the tyrant; and that every nation of Africa, which presumed to
support his cause, should be involved in his ruin. At the head of a small
body of troops, which seldom exceeded three thousand five hundred men, the
Roman general advanced, with a steady prudence, devoid of rashness or of
fear, into the heart of a country, where he was sometimes attacked by
armies of twenty thousand Moors. The boldness of his charge dismayed the
irregular Barbarians; they were disconcerted by his seasonable and orderly
retreats; they were continually baffled by the unknown resources of the
military art; and they felt and confessed the just superiority which was
assumed by the leader of a civilized nation. When Theodosius entered the
extensive dominions of Igmazen, king of the Isaflenses, the haughty savage
required, in words of defiance, his name, and the object of his
expedition. “I am,” replied the stern and disdainful count, “I am the
general of Valentinian, the lord of the world; who has sent me hither to
pursue and punish a desperate robber. Deliver him instantly into my hands;
and be assured, that if thou dost not obey the commands of my invincible
sovereign, thou, and the people over whom thou reignest, shall be utterly
extirpated.” 12211 As soon as Igmazen was satisfied, that
his enemy had strength and resolution to execute the fatal menace, he
consented to purchase a necessary peace by the sacrifice of a guilty
fugitive. The guards that were placed to secure the person of Firmus
deprived him of the hopes of escape; and the Moorish tyrant, after wine
had extinguished the sense of danger, disappointed the insulting triumph
of the Romans, by strangling himself in the night. His dead body, the only
present which Igmazen could offer to the conqueror, was carelessly thrown
upon a camel; and Theodosius, leading back his victorious troops to
Sitifi, was saluted by the warmest acclamations of joy and loyalty. 123
Africa had been lost by the vices of Romanus; it was restored by the
virtues of Theodosius; and our curiosity may be usefully directed to the
inquiry of the respective treatment which the two generals received from
the Imperial court. The authority of Count Romanus had been suspended by
the master-general of the cavalry; and he was committed to safe and
honorable custody till the end of the war. His crimes were proved by the
most authentic evidence; and the public expected, with some impatience,
the decree of severe justice. But the partial and powerful favor of
Mellobaudes encouraged him to challenge his legal judges, to obtain
repeated delays for the purpose of procuring a crowd of friendly
witnesses, and, finally, to cover his guilty conduct, by the additional
guilt of fraud and forgery. About the same time, the restorer of Britain
and Africa, on a vague suspicion that his name and services were superior
to the rank of a subject, was ignominiously beheaded at Carthage.
Valentinian no longer reigned; and the death of Theodosius, as well as the
impunity of Romanus, may justly be imputed to the arts of the ministers,
who abused the confidence, and deceived the inexperienced youth, of his
sons. 124
If the geographical accuracy of Ammianus had been fortunately bestowed on
the British exploits of Theodosius, we should have traced, with eager
curiosity, the distinct and domestic footsteps of his march. But the
tedious enumeration of the unknown and uninteresting tribes of Africa may
be reduced to the general remark, that they were all of the swarthy race
of the Moors; that they inhabited the back settlements of the Mauritanian
and Numidian province, the country, as they have since been termed by the
Arabs, of dates and of locusts; 125 and that, as the
Roman power declined in Africa, the boundary of civilized manners and
cultivated land was insensibly contracted. Beyond the utmost limits of the
Moors, the vast and inhospitable desert of the South extends above a
thousand miles to the banks of the Niger. The ancients, who had a very
faint and imperfect knowledge of the great peninsula of Africa, were
sometimes tempted to believe, that the torrid zone must ever remain
destitute of inhabitants; 126 and they sometimes
amused their fancy by filling the vacant space with headless men, or
rather monsters; 127 with horned and cloven-footed satyrs; 128
with fabulous centaurs; 129 and with human pygmies, who waged a bold
and doubtful warfare against the cranes. 130 Carthage would
have trembled at the strange intelligence that the countries on either
side of the equator were filled with innumerable nations, who differed
only in their color from the ordinary appearance of the human species: and
the subjects of the Roman empire might have anxiously expected, that the
swarms of Barbarians, which issued from the North, would soon be
encountered from the South by new swarms of Barbarians, equally fierce and
equally formidable. These gloomy terrors would indeed have been dispelled
by a more intimate acquaintance with the character of their African
enemies. The inaction of the negroes does not seem to be the effect either
of their virtue or of their pusillanimity. They indulge, like the rest of
mankind, their passions and appetites; and the adjacent tribes are engaged
in frequent acts of hostility. 131 But their rude
ignorance has never invented any effectual weapons of defence, or of
destruction; they appear incapable of forming any extensive plans of
government, or conquest; and the obvious inferiority of their mental
faculties has been discovered and abused by the nations of the temperate
zone. Sixty thousand blacks are annually embarked from the coast of
Guinea, never to return to their native country; but they are embarked in
chains; 132 and this constant emigration, which, in the
space of two centuries, might have furnished armies to overrun the globe,
accuses the guilt of Europe, and the weakness of Africa.
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
VI.
IV. The ignominious treaty, which saved the army of Jovian, had been
faithfully executed on the side of the Romans; and as they had solemnly
renounced the sovereignty and alliance of Armenia and Iberia, those
tributary kingdoms were exposed, without protection, to the arms of the
Persian monarch. 133 Sapor entered the Armenian territories at
the head of a formidable host of cuirassiers, of archers, and of mercenary
foot; but it was the invariable practice of Sapor to mix war and
negotiation, and to consider falsehood and perjury as the most powerful
instruments of regal policy. He affected to praise the prudent and
moderate conduct of the king of Armenia; and the unsuspicious Tiranus was
persuaded, by the repeated assurances of insidious friendship, to deliver
his person into the hands of a faithless and cruel enemy. In the midst of
a splendid entertainment, he was bound in chains of silver, as an honor
due to the blood of the Arsacides; and, after a short confinement in the
Tower of Oblivion at Ecbatana, he was released from the miseries of life,
either by his own dagger, or by that of an assassin. 13311 The kingdom of Armenia was reduced to
the state of a Persian province; the administration was shared between a
distinguished satrap and a favorite eunuch; and Sapor marched, without
delay, to subdue the martial spirit of the Iberians. Sauromaces, who
reigned in that country by the permission of the emperors, was expelled by
a superior force; and, as an insult on the majesty of Rome, the king of
kings placed a diadem on the head of his abject vassal Aspacuras. The city
of Artogerassa 134 was the only place of Armenia 13411 which presumed to resist the efforts of
his arms. The treasure deposited in that strong fortress tempted the
avarice of Sapor; but the danger of Olympias, the wife or widow of the
Armenian king, excited the public compassion, and animated the desperate
valor of her subjects and soldiers. 13412 The Persians
were surprised and repulsed under the walls of Artogerassa, by a bold and
well-concerted sally of the besieged. But the forces of Sapor were
continually renewed and increased; the hopeless courage of the garrison
was exhausted; the strength of the walls yielded to the assault; and the
proud conqueror, after wasting the rebellious city with fire and sword,
led away captive an unfortunate queen; who, in a more auspicious hour, had
been the destined bride of the son of Constantine. 135
Yet if Sapor already triumphed in the easy conquest of two dependent
kingdoms, he soon felt, that a country is unsubdued as long as the minds
of the people are actuated by a hostile and contumacious spirit. The
satraps, whom he was obliged to trust, embraced the first opportunity of
regaining the affection of their countrymen, and of signalizing their
immortal hatred to the Persian name. Since the conversion of the Armenians
and Iberians, these nations considered the Christians as the favorites,
and the Magians as the adversaries, of the Supreme Being: the influence of
the clergy, over a superstitious people was uniformly exerted in the cause
of Rome; and as long as the successors of Constantine disputed with those
of Artaxerxes the sovereignty of the intermediate provinces, the religious
connection always threw a decisive advantage into the scale of the empire.
A numerous and active party acknowledged Para, the son of Tiranus, as the
lawful sovereign of Armenia, and his title to the throne was deeply rooted
in the hereditary succession of five hundred years. By the unanimous
consent of the Iberians, the country was equally divided between the rival
princes; and Aspacuras, who owed his diadem to the choice of Sapor, was
obliged to declare, that his regard for his children, who were detained as
hostages by the tyrant, was the only consideration which prevented him
from openly renouncing the alliance of Persia. The emperor Valens, who
respected the obligations of the treaty, and who was apprehensive of
involving the East in a dangerous war, ventured, with slow and cautious
measures, to support the Roman party in the kingdoms of Iberia and
Armenia. 13511 Twelve legions established the
authority of Sauromaces on the banks of the Cyrus. The Euphrates was
protected by the valor of Arintheus. A powerful army, under the command of
Count Trajan, and of Vadomair, king of the Alemanni, fixed their camp on
the confines of Armenia. But they were strictly enjoined not to commit the
first hostilities, which might be understood as a breach of the treaty:
and such was the implicit obedience of the Roman general, that they
retreated, with exemplary patience, under a shower of Persian arrows till
they had clearly acquired a just title to an honorable and legitimate
victory. Yet these appearances of war insensibly subsided in a vain and
tedious negotiation. The contending parties supported their claims by
mutual reproaches of perfidy and ambition; and it should seem, that the
original treaty was expressed in very obscure terms, since they were
reduced to the necessity of making their inconclusive appeal to the
partial testimony of the generals of the two nations, who had assisted at
the negotiations. 136 The invasion of the Goths and Huns which
soon afterwards shook the foundations of the Roman empire, exposed the
provinces of Asia to the arms of Sapor. But the declining age, and perhaps
the infirmities, of the monarch suggested new maxims of tranquillity and
moderation. His death, which happened in the full maturity of a reign of
seventy years, changed in a moment the court and councils of Persia; and
their attention was most probably engaged by domestic troubles, and the
distant efforts of a Carmanian war. 137 The remembrance of
ancient injuries was lost in the enjoyment of peace. The kingdoms of
Armenia and Iberia were permitted, by the mutual,though tacit consent of
both empires, to resume their doubtful neutrality. In the first years of
the reign of Theodosius, a Persian embassy arrived at Constantinople, to
excuse the unjustifiable measures of the former reign; and to offer, as
the tribute of friendship, or even of respect, a splendid present of gems,
of silk, and of Indian elephants. 138
In the general picture of the affairs of the East under the reign of
Valens, the adventures of Para form one of the most striking and singular
objects. The noble youth, by the persuasion of his mother Olympias, had
escaped through the Persian host that besieged Artogerassa, and implored
the protection of the emperor of the East. By his timid councils, Para was
alternately supported, and recalled, and restored, and betrayed. The hopes
of the Armenians were sometimes raised by the presence of their natural
sovereign, 13811 and the ministers of Valens were
satisfied, that they preserved the integrity of the public faith, if their
vassal was not suffered to assume the diadem and title of King. But they
soon repented of their own rashness. They were confounded by the
reproaches and threats of the Persian monarch. They found reason to
distrust the cruel and inconstant temper of Para himself; who sacrificed,
to the slightest suspicions, the lives of his most faithful servants, and
held a secret and disgraceful correspondence with the assassin of his
father and the enemy of his country. Under the specious pretence of
consulting with the emperor on the subject of their common interest, Para
was persuaded to descend from the mountains of Armenia, where his party
was in arms, and to trust his independence and safety to the discretion of
a perfidious court. The king of Armenia, for such he appeared in his own
eyes and in those of his nation, was received with due honors by the
governors of the provinces through which he passed; but when he arrived at
Tarsus in Cilicia, his progress was stopped under various pretences; his
motions were watched with respectful vigilance, and he gradually
discovered, that he was a prisoner in the hands of the Romans. Para
suppressed his indignation, dissembled his fears, and after secretly
preparing his escape, mounted on horseback with three hundred of his
faithful followers. The officer stationed at the door of his apartment
immediately communicated his flight to the consular of Cilicia, who
overtook him in the suburbs, and endeavored without success, to dissuade
him from prosecuting his rash and dangerous design. A legion was ordered
to pursue the royal fugitive; but the pursuit of infantry could not be
very alarming to a body of light cavalry; and upon the first cloud of
arrows that was discharged into the air, they retreated with precipitation
to the gates of Tarsus. After an incessant march of two days and two
nights, Para and his Armenians reached the banks of the Euphrates; but the
passage of the river which they were obliged to swim, 13812 was attended with some delay and some
loss. The country was alarmed; and the two roads, which were only
separated by an interval of three miles had been occupied by a thousand
archers on horseback, under the command of a count and a tribune. Para
must have yielded to superior force, if the accidental arrival of a
friendly traveller had not revealed the danger and the means of escape. A
dark and almost impervious path securely conveyed the Armenian troop
through the thicket; and Para had left behind him the count and the
tribune, while they patiently expected his approach along the public
highways. They returned to the Imperial court to excuse their want of
diligence or success; and seriously alleged, that the king of Armenia, who
was a skilful magician, had transformed himself and his followers, and
passed before their eyes under a borrowed shape. 13813 After his return to his native kingdom,
Para still continued to profess himself the friend and ally of the Romans:
but the Romans had injured him too deeply ever to forgive, and the secret
sentence of his death was signed in the council of Valens. The execution
of the bloody deed was committed to the subtle prudence of Count Trajan;
and he had the merit of insinuating himself into the confidence of the
credulous prince, that he might find an opportunity of stabbing him to the
heart Para was invited to a Roman banquet, which had been prepared with
all the pomp and sensuality of the East; the hall resounded with cheerful
music, and the company was already heated with wine; when the count
retired for an instant, drew his sword, and gave the signal of the murder.
A robust and desperate Barbarian instantly rushed on the king of Armenia;
and though he bravely defended his life with the first weapon that chance
offered to his hand, the table of the Imperial general was stained with
the royal blood of a guest, and an ally. Such were the weak and wicked
maxims of the Roman administration, that, to attain a doubtful object of
political interest the laws of nations, and the sacred rights of
hospitality were inhumanly violated in the face of the world. 139
V. During a peaceful interval of thirty years, the Romans secured their
frontiers, and the Goths extended their dominions. The victories of the
great Hermanric, 140 king of the Ostrogoths, and the most noble
of the race of the Amali, have been compared, by the enthusiasm of his
countrymen, to the exploits of Alexander; with this singular, and almost
incredible, difference, that the martial spirit of the Gothic hero,
instead of being supported by the vigor of youth, was displayed with glory
and success in the extreme period of human life, between the age of
fourscore and one hundred and ten years. The independent tribes were
persuaded, or compelled, to acknowledge the king of the Ostrogoths as the
sovereign of the Gothic nation: the chiefs of the Visigoths, or Thervingi,
renounced the royal title, and assumed the more humble appellation of
Judges; and, among those judges, Athanaric, Fritigern, and Alavivus, were
the most illustrious, by their personal merit, as well as by their
vicinity to the Roman provinces. These domestic conquests, which increased
the military power of Hermanric, enlarged his ambitious designs. He
invaded the adjacent countries of the North; and twelve considerable
nations, whose names and limits cannot be accurately defined, successively
yielded to the superiority of the Gothic arms. 141 The Heruli, who
inhabited the marshy lands near the lake Mæotis, were renowned for their
strength and agility; and the assistance of their light infantry was
eagerly solicited, and highly esteemed, in all the wars of the Barbarians.
But the active spirit of the Heruli was subdued by the slow and steady
perseverance of the Goths; and, after a bloody action, in which the king
was slain, the remains of that warlike tribe became a useful accession to
the camp of Hermanric.
He then marched against the Venedi; unskilled in the use of arms, and
formidable only by their numbers, which filled the wide extent of the
plains of modern Poland. The victorious Goths, who were not inferior in
numbers, prevailed in the contest, by the decisive advantages of exercise
and discipline. After the submission of the Venedi, the conqueror
advanced, without resistance, as far as the confines of the Æstii; 142
an ancient people, whose name is still preserved in the province of
Esthonia. Those distant inhabitants of the Baltic coast were supported by
the labors of agriculture, enriched by the trade of amber, and consecrated
by the peculiar worship of the Mother of the Gods. But the scarcity of
iron obliged the Æstian warriors to content themselves with wooden clubs;
and the reduction of that wealthy country is ascribed to the prudence,
rather than to the arms, of Hermanric. His dominions, which extended from
the Danube to the Baltic, included the native seats, and the recent
acquisitions, of the Goths; and he reigned over the greatest part of
Germany and Scythia with the authority of a conqueror, and sometimes with
the cruelty of a tyrant. But he reigned over a part of the globe incapable
of perpetuating and adorning the glory of its heroes. The name of
Hermanric is almost buried in oblivion; his exploits are imperfectly
known; and the Romans themselves appeared unconscious of the progress of
an aspiring power which threatened the liberty of the North, and the peace
of the empire. 143
The Goths had contracted an hereditary attachment for the Imperial house
of Constantine, of whose power and liberality they had received so many
signal proofs. They respected the public peace; and if a hostile band
sometimes presumed to pass the Roman limit, their irregular conduct was
candidly ascribed to the ungovernable spirit of the Barbarian youth. Their
contempt for two new and obscure princes, who had been raised to the
throne by a popular election, inspired the Goths with bolder hopes; and,
while they agitated some design of marching their confederate force under
the national standard, 144 they were easily tempted to embrace the
party of Procopius; and to foment, by their dangerous aid, the civil
discord of the Romans. The public treaty might stipulate no more than ten
thousand auxiliaries; but the design was so zealously adopted by the
chiefs of the Visigoths, that the army which passed the Danube amounted to
the number of thirty thousand men. 145 They marched with
the proud confidence, that their invincible valor would decide the fate of
the Roman empire; and the provinces of Thrace groaned under the weight of
the Barbarians, who displayed the insolence of masters and the
licentiousness of enemies. But the intemperance which gratified their
appetites, retarded their progress; and before the Goths could receive any
certain intelligence of the defeat and death of Procopius, they perceived,
by the hostile state of the country, that the civil and military powers
were resumed by his successful rival. A chain of posts and fortifications,
skilfully disposed by Valens, or the generals of Valens, resisted their
march, prevented their retreat, and intercepted their subsistence. The
fierceness of the Barbarians was tamed and suspended by hunger; they
indignantly threw down their arms at the feet of the conqueror, who
offered them food and chains: the numerous captives were distributed in
all the cities of the East; and the provincials, who were soon
familiarized with their savage appearance, ventured, by degrees, to
measure their own strength with these formidable adversaries, whose name
had so long been the object of their terror. The king of Scythia (and
Hermanric alone could deserve so lofty a title) was grieved and
exasperated by this national calamity. His ambassadors loudly complained,
at the court of Valens, of the infraction of the ancient and solemn
alliance, which had so long subsisted between the Romans and the Goths.
They alleged, that they had fulfilled the duty of allies, by assisting the
kinsman and successor of the emperor Julian; they required the immediate
restitution of the noble captives; and they urged a very singular claim,
that the Gothic generals marching in arms, and in hostile array, were
entitled to the sacred character and privileges of ambassadors. The
decent, but peremptory, refusal of these extravagant demands, was
signified to the Barbarians by Victor, master-general of the cavalry; who
expressed, with force and dignity, the just complaints of the emperor of
the East. 146 The negotiation was interrupted; and the
manly exhortations of Valentinian encouraged his timid brother to
vindicate the insulted majesty of the empire. 147
The splendor and magnitude of this Gothic war are celebrated by a
contemporary historian: 148 but the events scarcely deserve the
attention of posterity, except as the preliminary steps of the approaching
decline and fall of the empire. Instead of leading the nations of Germany
and Scythia to the banks of the Danube, or even to the gates of
Constantinople, the aged monarch of the Goths resigned to the brave
Athanaric the danger and glory of a defensive war, against an enemy, who
wielded with a feeble hand the powers of a mighty state. A bridge of boats
was established upon the Danube; the presence of Valens animated his
troops; and his ignorance of the art of war was compensated by personal
bravery, and a wise deference to the advice of Victor and Arintheus, his
masters-general of the cavalry and infantry. The operations of the
campaign were conducted by their skill and experience; but they found it
impossible to drive the Visigoths from their strong posts in the
mountains; and the devastation of the plains obliged the Romans themselves
to repass the Danube on the approach of winter. The incessant rains, which
swelled the waters of the river, produced a tacit suspension of arms, and
confined the emperor Valens, during the whole course of the ensuing
summer, to his camp of Marcianopolis. The third year of the war was more
favorable to the Romans, and more pernicious to the Goths. The
interruption of trade deprived the Barbarians of the objects of luxury,
which they already confounded with the necessaries of life; and the
desolation of a very extensive tract of country threatened them with the
horrors of famine. Athanaric was provoked, or compelled, to risk a battle,
which he lost, in the plains; and the pursuit was rendered more bloody by
the cruel precaution of the victorious generals, who had promised a large
reward for the head of every Goth that was brought into the Imperial camp.
The submission of the Barbarians appeased the resentment of Valens and his
council: the emperor listened with satisfaction to the flattering and
eloquent remonstrance of the senate of Constantinople, which assumed, for
the first time, a share in the public deliberations; and the same
generals, Victor and Arintheus, who had successfully directed the conduct
of the war, were empowered to regulate the conditions of peace. The
freedom of trade, which the Goths had hitherto enjoyed, was restricted to
two cities on the Danube; the rashness of their leaders was severely
punished by the suppression of their pensions and subsidies; and the
exception, which was stipulated in favor of Athanaric alone, was more
advantageous than honorable to the Judge of the Visigoths. Athanaric, who,
on this occasion, appears to have consulted his private interest, without
expecting the orders of his sovereign, supported his own dignity, and that
of his tribe, in the personal interview which was proposed by the
ministers of Valens. He persisted in his declaration, that it was
impossible for him, without incurring the guilt of perjury, ever to set
his foot on the territory of the empire; and it is more than probable,
that his regard for the sanctity of an oath was confirmed by the recent
and fatal examples of Roman treachery. The Danube, which separated the
dominions of the two independent nations, was chosen for the scene of the
conference. The emperor of the East, and the Judge of the Visigoths,
accompanied by an equal number of armed followers, advanced in their
respective barges to the middle of the stream. After the ratification of
the treaty, and the delivery of hostages, Valens returned in triumph to
Constantinople; and the Goths remained in a state of tranquillity about
six years; till they were violently impelled against the Roman empire by
an innumerable host of Scythians, who appeared to issue from the frozen
regions of the North. 149
The emperor of the West, who had resigned to his brother the command of
the Lower Danube, reserved for his immediate care the defence of the
Rhætian and Illyrian provinces, which spread so many hundred miles along
the greatest of the European rivers. The active policy of Valentinian was
continually employed in adding new fortifications to the security of the
frontier: but the abuse of this policy provoked the just resentment of the
Barbarians. The Quadi complained, that the ground for an intended fortress
had been marked out on their territories; and their complaints were urged
with so much reason and moderation, that Equitius, master-general of
Illyricum, consented to suspend the prosecution of the work, till he
should be more clearly informed of the will of his sovereign. This fair
occasion of injuring a rival, and of advancing the fortune of his son, was
eagerly embraced by the inhuman Maximin, the præfect, or rather tyrant,
of Gaul. The passions of Valentinian were impatient of control; and he
credulously listened to the assurances of his favorite, that if the
government of Valeria, and the direction of the work, were intrusted to
the zeal of his son Marcellinus, the emperor should no longer be
importuned with the audacious remonstrances of the Barbarians. The
subjects of Rome, and the natives of Germany, were insulted by the
arrogance of a young and worthless minister, who considered his rapid
elevation as the proof and reward of his superior merit. He affected,
however, to receive the modest application of Gabinius, king of the Quadi,
with some attention and regard: but this artful civility concealed a dark
and bloody design, and the credulous prince was persuaded to accept the
pressing invitation of Marcellinus. I am at a loss how to vary the
narrative of similar crimes; or how to relate, that, in the course of the
same year, but in remote parts of the empire, the inhospitable table of
two Imperial generals was stained with the royal blood of two guests and
allies, inhumanly murdered by their order, and in their presence. The fate
of Gabinius, and of Para, was the same: but the cruel death of their
sovereign was resented in a very different manner by the servile temper of
the Armenians, and the free and daring spirit of the Germans. The Quadi
were much declined from that formidable power, which, in the time of
Marcus Antoninus, had spread terror to the gates of Rome. But they still
possessed arms and courage; their courage was animated by despair, and
they obtained the usual reenforcement of the cavalry of their Sarmatian
allies. So improvident was the assassin Marcellinus, that he chose the
moment when the bravest veterans had been drawn away, to suppress the
revolt of Firmus; and the whole province was exposed, with a very feeble
defence, to the rage of the exasperated Barbarians. They invaded Pannonia
in the season of harvest; unmercifully destroyed every object of plunder
which they could not easily transport; and either disregarded, or
demolished, the empty fortifications. The princess Constantia, the
daughter of the emperor Constantius, and the granddaughter of the great
Constantine, very narrowly escaped. That royal maid, who had innocently
supported the revolt of Procopius, was now the destined wife of the heir
of the Western empire. She traversed the peaceful province with a splendid
and unarmed train. Her person was saved from danger, and the republic from
disgrace, by the active zeal of Messala, governor of the provinces. As
soon as he was informed that the village, where she stopped only to dine,
was almost encompassed by the Barbarians, he hastily placed her in his own
chariot, and drove full speed till he reached the gates of Sirmium, which
were at the distance of six-and-twenty miles. Even Sirmium might not have
been secure, if the Quadi and Sarmatians had diligently advanced during
the general consternation of the magistrates and people. Their delay
allowed Probus, the Prætorian præfect, sufficient time to recover his
own spirits, and to revive the courage of the citizens. He skilfully
directed their strenuous efforts to repair and strengthen the decayed
fortifications; and procured the seasonable and effectual assistance of a
company of archers, to protect the capital of the Illyrian provinces.
Disappointed in their attempts against the walls of Sirmium, the indignant
Barbarians turned their arms against the master general of the frontier,
to whom they unjustly attributed the murder of their king. Equitius could
bring into the field no more than two legions; but they contained the
veteran strength of the Mæsian and Pannonian bands. The obstinacy with
which they disputed the vain honors of rank and precedency, was the cause
of their destruction; and while they acted with separate forces and
divided councils, they were surprised and slaughtered by the active vigor
of the Sarmatian horse. The success of this invasion provoked the
emulation of the bordering tribes; and the province of Mæsia would
infallibly have been lost, if young Theodosius, the duke, or military
commander, of the frontier, had not signalized, in the defeat of the
public enemy, an intrepid genius, worthy of his illustrious father, and of
his future greatness. 150
Chapter XXV: Reigns Of Jovian And Valentinian, Division Of The Empire.—Part
VII.
The mind of Valentinian, who then resided at Treves, was deeply affected
by the calamities of Illyricum; but the lateness of the season suspended
the execution of his designs till the ensuing spring. He marched in
person, with a considerable part of the forces of Gaul, from the banks of
the Moselle: and to the suppliant ambassadors of the Sarmatians, who met
him on the way, he returned a doubtful answer, that, as soon as he reached
the scene of action, he should examine, and pronounce. When he arrived at
Sirmium, he gave audience to the deputies of the Illyrian provinces; who
loudly congratulated their own felicity under the auspicious government of
Probus, his Prætorian præfect. 151 Valentinian, who
was flattered by these demonstrations of their loyalty and gratitude,
imprudently asked the deputy of Epirus, a Cynic philosopher of intrepid
sincerity, 152 whether he was freely sent by the wishes of
the province. “With tears and groans am I sent,” replied Iphicles, “by a
reluctant people.” The emperor paused: but the impunity of his ministers
established the pernicious maxim, that they might oppress his subjects,
without injuring his service. A strict inquiry into their conduct would
have relieved the public discontent. The severe condemnation of the murder
of Gabinius, was the only measure which could restore the confidence of
the Germans, and vindicate the honor of the Roman name. But the haughty
monarch was incapable of the magnanimity which dares to acknowledge a
fault. He forgot the provocation, remembered only the injury, and advanced
into the country of the Quadi with an insatiate thirst of blood and
revenge. The extreme devastation, and promiscuous massacre, of a savage
war, were justified, in the eyes of the emperor, and perhaps in those of
the world, by the cruel equity of retaliation: 153 and such was the
discipline of the Romans, and the consternation of the enemy, that
Valentinian repassed the Danube without the loss of a single man. As he
had resolved to complete the destruction of the Quadi by a second
campaign, he fixed his winter quarters at Bregetio, on the Danube, near
the Hungarian city of Presburg. While the operations of war were suspended
by the severity of the weather, the Quadi made an humble attempt to
deprecate the wrath of their conqueror; and, at the earnest persuasion of
Equitius, their ambassadors were introduced into the Imperial council.
They approached the throne with bended bodies and dejected countenances;
and without daring to complain of the murder of their king, they affirmed,
with solemn oaths, that the late invasion was the crime of some irregular
robbers, which the public council of the nation condemned and abhorred.
The answer of the emperor left them but little to hope from his clemency
or compassion. He reviled, in the most intemperate language, their
baseness, their ingratitude, their insolence. His eyes, his voice, his
color, his gestures, expressed the violence of his ungoverned fury; and
while his whole frame was agitated with convulsive passion, a large blood
vessel suddenly burst in his body; and Valentinian fell speechless into
the arms of his attendants. Their pious care immediately concealed his
situation from the crowd; but, in a few minutes, the emperor of the West
expired in an agony of pain, retaining his senses till the last; and
struggling, without success, to declare his intentions to the generals and
ministers, who surrounded the royal couch. Valentinian was about
fifty-four years of age; and he wanted only one hundred days to accomplish
the twelve years of his reign. 154
The polygamy of Valentinian is seriously attested by an ecclesiastical
historian. 155 “The empress Severa (I relate the fable)
admitted into her familiar society the lovely Justina, the daughter of an
Italian governor: her admiration of those naked charms, which she had
often seen in the bath, was expressed with such lavish and imprudent
praise, that the emperor was tempted to introduce a second wife into his
bed; and his public edict extended to all the subjects of the empire the
same domestic privilege which he had assumed for himself.” But we may be
assured, from the evidence of reason as well as history, that the two
marriages of Valentinian, with Severa, and with Justina, were successively
contracted; and that he used the ancient permission of divorce, which was
still allowed by the laws, though it was condemned by the church. Severa
was the mother of Gratian, who seemed to unite every claim which could
entitle him to the undoubted succession of the Western empire. He was the
eldest son of a monarch whose glorious reign had confirmed the free and
honorable choice of his fellow-soldiers. Before he had attained the ninth
year of his age, the royal youth received from the hands of his indulgent
father the purple robe and diadem, with the title of Augustus; the
election was solemnly ratified by the consent and applause of the armies
of Gaul; 156 and the name of Gratian was added to the
names of Valentinian and Valens, in all the legal transactions of the
Roman government. By his marriage with the granddaughter of Constantine,
the son of Valentinian acquired all the hereditary rights of the Flavian
family; which, in a series of three Imperial generations, were sanctified
by time, religion, and the reverence of the people. At the death of his
father, the royal youth was in the seventeenth year of his age; and his
virtues already justified the favorable opinion of the army and the
people. But Gratian resided, without apprehension, in the palace of
Treves; whilst, at the distance of many hundred miles, Valentinian
suddenly expired in the camp of Bregetio. The passions, which had been so
long suppressed by the presence of a master, immediately revived in the
Imperial council; and the ambitious design of reigning in the name of an
infant, was artfully executed by Mellobaudes and Equitius, who commanded
the attachment of the Illyrian and Italian bands. They contrived the most
honorable pretences to remove the popular leaders, and the troops of Gaul,
who might have asserted the claims of the lawful successor; they suggested
the necessity of extinguishing the hopes of foreign and domestic enemies,
by a bold and decisive measure. The empress Justina, who had been left in
a palace about one hundred miles from Bregetio, was respectively invited
to appear in the camp, with the son of the deceased emperor. On the sixth
day after the death of Valentinian, the infant prince of the same name,
who was only four years old, was shown, in the arms of his mother, to the
legions; and solemnly invested, by military acclamation, with the titles
and ensigns of supreme power. The impending dangers of a civil war were
seasonably prevented by the wise and moderate conduct of the emperor
Gratian. He cheerfully accepted the choice of the army; declared that he
should always consider the son of Justina as a brother, not as a rival;
and advised the empress, with her son Valentinian to fix their residence
at Milan, in the fair and peaceful province of Italy; while he assumed the
more arduous command of the countries beyond the Alps. Gratian dissembled
his resentment till he could safely punish, or disgrace, the authors of
the conspiracy; and though he uniformly behaved with tenderness and regard
to his infant colleague, he gradually confounded, in the administration of
the Western empire, the office of a guardian with the authority of a
sovereign. The government of the Roman world was exercised in the united
names of Valens and his two nephews; but the feeble emperor of the East,
who succeeded to the rank of his elder brother, never obtained any weight
or influence in the councils of the West. 157
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part I.
Manners Of The Pastoral Nations.—Progress Of The Huns, From
China To Europe.—Flight Of The Goths.—They Pass The
Danube.—Gothic War.—Defeat And Death Of Valens.—Gratian
Invests Theodosius With The Eastern Empire.—His Character
And Success.—Peace And Settlement Of The Goths.
In the second year of the reign of Valentinian and Valens, on the morning
of the twenty-first day of July, the greatest part of the Roman world was
shaken by a violent and destructive earthquake. The impression was
communicated to the waters; the shores of the Mediterranean were left dry,
by the sudden retreat of the sea; great quantities of fish were caught
with the hand; large vessels were stranded on the mud; and a curious
spectator 1 amused his eye, or rather his fancy, by
contemplating the various appearance of valleys and mountains, which had
never, since the formation of the globe, been exposed to the sun. But the
tide soon returned, with the weight of an immense and irresistible deluge,
which was severely felt on the coasts of Sicily, of Dalmatia, of Greece,
and of Egypt: large boats were transported, and lodged on the roofs of
houses, or at the distance of two miles from the shore; the people, with
their habitations, were swept away by the waters; and the city of
Alexandria annually commemorated the fatal day, on which fifty thousand
persons had lost their lives in the inundation. This calamity, the report
of which was magnified from one province to another, astonished and
terrified the subjects of Rome; and their affrighted imagination enlarged
the real extent of a momentary evil. They recollected the preceding
earthquakes, which had subverted the cities of Palestine and Bithynia:
they considered these alarming strokes as the prelude only of still more
dreadful calamities, and their fearful vanity was disposed to confound the
symptoms of a declining empire and a sinking world. 2 It was the fashion of
the times to attribute every remarkable event to the particular will of
the Deity; the alterations of nature were connected, by an invisible
chain, with the moral and metaphysical opinions of the human mind; and the
most sagacious divines could distinguish, according to the color of their
respective prejudices, that the establishment of heresy tended to produce
an earthquake; or that a deluge was the inevitable consequence of the
progress of sin and error. Without presuming to discuss the truth or
propriety of these lofty speculations, the historian may content himself
with an observation, which seems to be justified by experience, that man
has much more to fear from the passions of his fellow-creatures, than from
the convulsions of the elements. 3 The mischievous effects
of an earthquake, or deluge, a hurricane, or the eruption of a volcano,
bear a very inconsiderable portion to the ordinary calamities of war, as
they are now moderated by the prudence or humanity of the princes of
Europe, who amuse their own leisure, and exercise the courage of their
subjects, in the practice of the military art. But the laws and manners of
modern nations protect the safety and freedom of the vanquished soldier;
and the peaceful citizen has seldom reason to complain, that his life, or
even his fortune, is exposed to the rage of war. In the disastrous period
of the fall of the Roman empire, which may justly be dated from the reign
of Valens, the happiness and security of each individual were personally
attacked; and the arts and labors of ages were rudely defaced by the
Barbarians of Scythia and Germany. The invasion of the Huns precipitated
on the provinces of the West the Gothic nation, which advanced, in less
than forty years, from the Danube to the Atlantic, and opened a way, by
the success of their arms, to the inroads of so many hostile tribes, more
savage than themselves. The original principle of motion was concealed in
the remote countries of the North; and the curious observation of the
pastoral life of the Scythians, 4 or Tartars, 5
will illustrate the latent cause of these destructive emigrations.
The different characters that mark the civilized nations of the globe, may
be ascribed to the use, and the abuse, of reason; which so variously
shapes, and so artificially composes, the manners and opinions of a
European, or a Chinese. But the operation of instinct is more sure and
simple than that of reason: it is much easier to ascertain the appetites
of a quadruped than the speculations of a philosopher; and the savage
tribes of mankind, as they approach nearer to the condition of animals,
preserve a stronger resemblance to themselves and to each other. The
uniform stability of their manners is the natural consequence of the
imperfection of their faculties. Reduced to a similar situation, their
wants, their desires, their enjoyments, still continue the same: and the
influence of food or climate, which, in a more improved state of society,
is suspended, or subdued, by so many moral causes, most powerfully
contributes to form, and to maintain, the national character of
Barbarians. In every age, the immense plains of Scythia, or Tartary, have
been inhabited by vagrant tribes of hunters and shepherds, whose indolence
refuses to cultivate the earth, and whose restless spirit disdains the
confinement of a sedentary life. In every age, the Scythians, and Tartars,
have been renowned for their invincible courage and rapid conquests. The
thrones of Asia have been repeatedly overturned by the shepherds of the
North; and their arms have spread terror and devastation over the most
fertile and warlike countries of Europe. 6 On this occasion, as
well as on many others, the sober historian is forcibly awakened from a
pleasing vision; and is compelled, with some reluctance, to confess, that
the pastoral manners, which have been adorned with the fairest attributes
of peace and innocence, are much better adapted to the fierce and cruel
habits of a military life. To illustrate this observation, I shall now
proceed to consider a nation of shepherds and of warriors, in the three
important articles of, I. Their diet; II. Their habitations; and, III.
Their exercises. The narratives of antiquity are justified by the
experience of modern times; 7 and the banks of the Borysthenes, of the Volga,
or of the Selinga, will indifferently present the same uniform spectacle
of similar and native manners. 8
I. The corn, or even the rice, which constitutes the ordinary and
wholesome food of a civilized people, can be obtained only by the patient
toil of the husbandman. Some of the happy savages, who dwell between the
tropics, are plentifully nourished by the liberality of nature; but in the
climates of the North, a nation of shepherds is reduced to their flocks
and herds. The skilful practitioners of the medical art will determine (if
they are able to determine) how far the temper of the human mind may be
affected by the use of animal, or of vegetable, food; and whether the
common association of carniverous and cruel deserves to be considered in
any other light than that of an innocent, perhaps a salutary, prejudice of
humanity. 9 Yet, if it be true, that the sentiment of
compassion is imperceptibly weakened by the sight and practice of domestic
cruelty, we may observe, that the horrid objects which are disguised by
the arts of European refinement, are exhibited in their naked and most
disgusting simplicity in the tent of a Tartarian shepherd. The ox, or the
sheep, are slaughtered by the same hand from which they were accustomed to
receive their daily food; and the bleeding limbs are served, with very
little preparation, on the table of their unfeeling murderer. In the
military profession, and especially in the conduct of a numerous army, the
exclusive use of animal food appears to be productive of the most solid
advantages. Corn is a bulky and perishable commodity; and the large
magazines, which are indispensably necessary for the subsistence of our
troops, must be slowly transported by the labor of men or horses. But the
flocks and herds, which accompany the march of the Tartars, afford a sure
and increasing supply of flesh and milk: in the far greater part of the
uncultivated waste, the vegetation of the grass is quick and luxuriant;
and there are few places so extremely barren, that the hardy cattle of the
North cannot find some tolerable pasture.
The supply is multiplied and prolonged by the undistinguishing appetite,
and patient abstinence, of the Tartars. They indifferently feed on the
flesh of those animals that have been killed for the table, or have died
of disease. Horseflesh, which in every age and country has been proscribed
by the civilized nations of Europe and Asia, they devour with peculiar
greediness; and this singular taste facilitates the success of their
military operations. The active cavalry of Scythia is always followed, in
their most distant and rapid incursions, by an adequate number of spare
horses, who may be occasionally used, either to redouble the speed, or to
satisfy the hunger, of the Barbarians. Many are the resources of courage
and poverty. When the forage round a camp of Tartars is almost consumed,
they slaughter the greatest part of their cattle, and preserve the flesh,
either smoked, or dried in the sun. On the sudden emergency of a hasty
march, they provide themselves with a sufficient quantity of little balls
of cheese, or rather of hard curd, which they occasionally dissolve in
water; and this unsubstantial diet will support, for many days, the life,
and even the spirits, of the patient warrior. But this extraordinary
abstinence, which the Stoic would approve, and the hermit might envy, is
commonly succeeded by the most voracious indulgence of appetite. The wines
of a happier climate are the most grateful present, or the most valuable
commodity, that can be offered to the Tartars; and the only example of
their industry seems to consist in the art of extracting from mare’s milk
a fermented liquor, which possesses a very strong power of intoxication.
Like the animals of prey, the savages, both of the old and new world,
experience the alternate vicissitudes of famine and plenty; and their
stomach is inured to sustain, without much inconvenience, the opposite
extremes of hunger and of intemperance.
II. In the ages of rustic and martial simplicity, a people of soldiers and
husbandmen are dispersed over the face of an extensive and cultivated
country; and some time must elapse before the warlike youth of Greece or
Italy could be assembled under the same standard, either to defend their
own confines, or to invade the territories of the adjacent tribes. The
progress of manufactures and commerce insensibly collects a large
multitude within the walls of a city: but these citizens are no longer
soldiers; and the arts which adorn and improve the state of civil society,
corrupt the habits of the military life. The pastoral manners of the
Scythians seem to unite the different advantages of simplicity and
refinement. The individuals of the same tribe are constantly assembled,
but they are assembled in a camp; and the native spirit of these dauntless
shepherds is animated by mutual support and emulation. The houses of the
Tartars are no more than small tents, of an oval form, which afford a cold
and dirty habitation, for the promiscuous youth of both sexes. The palaces
of the rich consist of wooden huts, of such a size that they may be
conveniently fixed on large wagons, and drawn by a team perhaps of twenty
or thirty oxen. The flocks and herds, after grazing all day in the
adjacent pastures, retire, on the approach of night, within the protection
of the camp. The necessity of preventing the most mischievous confusion,
in such a perpetual concourse of men and animals, must gradually
introduce, in the distribution, the order, and the guard, of the
encampment, the rudiments of the military art. As soon as the forage of a
certain district is consumed, the tribe, or rather army, of shepherds,
makes a regular march to some fresh pastures; and thus acquires, in the
ordinary occupations of the pastoral life, the practical knowledge of one
of the most important and difficult operations of war. The choice of
stations is regulated by the difference of the seasons: in the summer, the
Tartars advance towards the North, and pitch their tents on the banks of a
river, or, at least, in the neighborhood of a running stream. But in the
winter, they return to the South, and shelter their camp, behind some
convenient eminence, against the winds, which are chilled in their passage
over the bleak and icy regions of Siberia. These manners are admirably
adapted to diffuse, among the wandering tribes, the spirit of emigration
and conquest. The connection between the people and their territory is of
so frail a texture, that it may be broken by the slightest accident. The
camp, and not the soil, is the native country of the genuine Tartar.
Within the precincts of that camp, his family, his companions, his
property, are always included; and, in the most distant marches, he is
still surrounded by the objects which are dear, or valuable, or familiar
in his eyes. The thirst of rapine, the fear, or the resentment of injury,
the impatience of servitude, have, in every age, been sufficient causes to
urge the tribes of Scythia boldly to advance into some unknown countries,
where they might hope to find a more plentiful subsistence or a less
formidable enemy. The revolutions of the North have frequently determined
the fate of the South; and in the conflict of hostile nations, the victor
and the vanquished have alternately drove, and been driven, from the
confines of China to those of Germany. 10 These great
emigrations, which have been sometimes executed with almost incredible
diligence, were rendered more easy by the peculiar nature of the climate.
It is well known that the cold of Tartary is much more severe than in the
midst of the temperate zone might reasonably be expected; this uncommon
rigor is attributed to the height of the plains, which rise, especially
towards the East, more than half a mile above the level of the sea; and to
the quantity of saltpetre with which the soil is deeply impregnated. 11
In the winter season, the broad and rapid rivers, that discharge their
waters into the Euxine, the Caspian, or the Icy Sea, are strongly frozen;
the fields are covered with a bed of snow; and the fugitive, or
victorious, tribes may securely traverse, with their families, their
wagons, and their cattle, the smooth and hard surface of an immense plain.
III. The pastoral life, compared with the labors of agriculture and
manufactures, is undoubtedly a life of idleness; and as the most honorable
shepherds of the Tartar race devolve on their captives the domestic
management of the cattle, their own leisure is seldom disturbed by any
servile and assiduous cares. But this leisure, instead of being devoted to
the soft enjoyments of love and harmony, is usefully spent in the violent
and sanguinary exercise of the chase. The plains of Tartary are filled
with a strong and serviceable breed of horses, which are easily trained
for the purposes of war and hunting. The Scythians of every age have been
celebrated as bold and skilful riders; and constant practice had seated
them so firmly on horseback, that they were supposed by strangers to
perform the ordinary duties of civil life, to eat, to drink, and even to
sleep, without dismounting from their steeds. They excel in the dexterous
management of the lance; the long Tartar bow is drawn with a nervous arm;
and the weighty arrow is directed to its object with unerring aim and
irresistible force. These arrows are often pointed against the harmless
animals of the desert, which increase and multiply in the absence of their
most formidable enemy; the hare, the goat, the roebuck, the fallow-deer,
the stag, the elk, and the antelope. The vigor and patience, both of the
men and horses, are continually exercised by the fatigues of the chase;
and the plentiful supply of game contributes to the subsistence, and even
luxury, of a Tartar camp. But the exploits of the hunters of Scythia are
not confined to the destruction of timid or innoxious beasts; they boldly
encounter the angry wild boar, when he turns against his pursuers, excite
the sluggish courage of the bear, and provoke the fury of the tiger, as he
slumbers in the thicket. Where there is danger, there may be glory; and
the mode of hunting, which opens the fairest field to the exertions of
valor, may justly be considered as the image, and as the school, of war.
The general hunting matches, the pride and delight of the Tartar princes,
compose an instructive exercise for their numerous cavalry. A circle is
drawn, of many miles in circumference, to encompass the game of an
extensive district; and the troops that form the circle regularly advance
towards a common centre; where the captive animals, surrounded on every
side, are abandoned to the darts of the hunters. In this march, which
frequently continues many days, the cavalry are obliged to climb the
hills, to swim the rivers, and to wind through the valleys, without
interrupting the prescribed order of their gradual progress. They acquire
the habit of directing their eye, and their steps, to a remote object; of
preserving their intervals of suspending or accelerating their pace,
according to the motions of the troops on their right and left; and of
watching and repeating the signals of their leaders. Their leaders study,
in this practical school, the most important lesson of the military art;
the prompt and accurate judgment of ground, of distance, and of time. To
employ against a human enemy the same patience and valor, the same skill
and discipline, is the only alteration which is required in real war; and
the amusements of the chase serve as a prelude to the conquest of an
empire. 12
The political society of the ancient Germans has the appearance of a
voluntary alliance of independent warriors. The tribes of Scythia,
distinguished by the modern appellation of Hords, assume the form of a
numerous and increasing family; which, in the course of successive
generations, has been propagated from the same original stock. The
meanest, and most ignorant, of the Tartars, preserve, with conscious
pride, the inestimable treasure of their genealogy; and whatever
distinctions of rank may have been introduced, by the unequal distribution
of pastoral wealth, they mutually respect themselves, and each other, as
the descendants of the first founder of the tribe. The custom, which still
prevails, of adopting the bravest and most faithful of the captives, may
countenance the very probable suspicion, that this extensive consanguinity
is, in a great measure, legal and fictitious. But the useful prejudice,
which has obtained the sanction of time and opinion, produces the effects
of truth; the haughty Barbarians yield a cheerful and voluntary obedience
to the head of their blood; and their chief, or mursa, as the
representative of their great father, exercises the authority of a judge
in peace, and of a leader in war. In the original state of the pastoral
world, each of the mursas (if we may continue to use a modern appellation)
acted as the independent chief of a large and separate family; and the
limits of their peculiar territories were gradually fixed by superior
force, or mutual consent. But the constant operation of various and
permanent causes contributed to unite the vagrant Hords into national
communities, under the command of a supreme head. The weak were desirous
of support, and the strong were ambitious of dominion; the power, which is
the result of union, oppressed and collected the divided force of the
adjacent tribes; and, as the vanquished were freely admitted to share the
advantages of victory, the most valiant chiefs hastened to range
themselves and their followers under the formidable standard of a
confederate nation. The most successful of the Tartar princes assumed the
military command, to which he was entitled by the superiority, either of
merit or of power. He was raised to the throne by the acclamations of his
equals; and the title of Khan expresses, in the language of the North of
Asia, the full extent of the regal dignity. The right of hereditary
succession was long confined to the blood of the founder of the monarchy;
and at this moment all the Khans, who reign from Crimea to the wall of
China, are the lineal descendants of the renowned Zingis. 13
But, as it is the indispensable duty of a Tartar sovereign to lead his
warlike subjects into the field, the claims of an infant are often
disregarded; and some royal kinsman, distinguished by his age and valor,
is intrusted with the sword and sceptre of his predecessor. Two distinct
and regular taxes are levied on the tribes, to support the dignity of the
national monarch, and of their peculiar chief; and each of those
contributions amounts to the tithe, both of their property, and of their
spoil. A Tartar sovereign enjoys the tenth part of the wealth of his
people; and as his own domestic riches of flocks and herds increase in a
much larger proportion, he is able plentifully to maintain the rustic
splendor of his court, to reward the most deserving, or the most favored
of his followers, and to obtain, from the gentle influence of corruption,
the obedience which might be sometimes refused to the stern mandates of
authority. The manners of his subjects, accustomed, like himself, to blood
and rapine, might excuse, in their eyes, such partial acts of tyranny, as
would excite the horror of a civilized people; but the power of a despot
has never been acknowledged in the deserts of Scythia. The immediate
jurisdiction of the khan is confined within the limits of his own tribe;
and the exercise of his royal prerogative has been moderated by the
ancient institution of a national council. The Coroulai, 14
or Diet, of the Tartars, was regularly held in the spring and autumn, in
the midst of a plain; where the princes of the reigning family, and the
mursas of the respective tribes, may conveniently assemble on horseback,
with their martial and numerous trains; and the ambitious monarch, who
reviewed the strength, must consult the inclination of an armed people.
The rudiments of a feudal government may be discovered in the constitution
of the Scythian or Tartar nations; but the perpetual conflict of those
hostile nations has sometimes terminated in the establishment of a
powerful and despotic empire. The victor, enriched by the tribute, and
fortified by the arms of dependent kings, has spread his conquests over
Europe or Asia: the successful shepherds of the North have submitted to
the confinement of arts, of laws, and of cities; and the introduction of
luxury, after destroying the freedom of the people, has undermined the
foundations of the throne. 15
The memory of past events cannot long be preserved in the frequent and
remote emigrations of illiterate Barbarians. The modern Tartars are
ignorant of the conquests of their ancestors; 16 and our knowledge of
the history of the Scythians is derived from their intercourse with the
learned and civilized nations of the South, the Greeks, the Persians, and
the Chinese. The Greeks, who navigated the Euxine, and planted their
colonies along the sea-coast, made the gradual and imperfect discovery of
Scythia; from the Danube, and the confines of Thrace, as far as the frozen
Mæotis, the seat of eternal winter, and Mount Caucasus, which, in the
language of poetry, was described as the utmost boundary of the earth.
They celebrated, with simple credulity, the virtues of the pastoral life:
17
they entertained a more rational apprehension of the strength and numbers
of the warlike Barbarians, 18 who contemptuously baffled the immense
armament of Darius, the son of Hystaspes. 19 The Persian monarchs
had extended their western conquests to the banks of the Danube, and the
limits of European Scythia. The eastern provinces of their empire were
exposed to the Scythians of Asia; the wild inhabitants of the plains
beyond the Oxus and the Jaxartes, two mighty rivers, which direct their
course towards the Caspian Sea. The long and memorable quarrel of Iran and
Touran is still the theme of history or romance: the famous, perhaps the
fabulous, valor of the Persian heroes, Rustan and Asfendiar, was
signalized, in the defence of their country, against the Afrasiabs of the
North; 20 and the invincible spirit of the same
Barbarians resisted, on the same ground, the victorious arms of Cyrus and
Alexander. 21 In the eyes of the Greeks and Persians, the
real geography of Scythia was bounded, on the East, by the mountains of
Imaus, or Caf; and their distant prospect of the extreme and inaccessible
parts of Asia was clouded by ignorance, or perplexed by fiction. But those
inaccessible regions are the ancient residence of a powerful and civilized
nation, 22 which ascends, by a probable tradition, above
forty centuries; 23 and which is able to verify a series of near
two thousand years, by the perpetual testimony of accurate and
contemporary historians. 24 The annals of China 25 illustrate the state
and revolutions of the pastoral tribes, which may still be distinguished
by the vague appellation of Scythians, or Tartars; the vassals, the
enemies, and sometimes the conquerors, of a great empire; whose policy has
uniformly opposed the blind and impetuous valor of the Barbarians of the
North. From the mouth of the Danube to the Sea of Japan, the whole
longitude of Scythia is about one hundred and ten degrees, which, in that
parallel, are equal to more than five thousand miles. The latitude of
these extensive deserts cannot be so easily, or so accurately, measured;
but, from the fortieth degree, which touches the wall of China, we may
securely advance above a thousand miles to the northward, till our
progress is stopped by the excessive cold of Siberia. In that dreary
climate, instead of the animated picture of a Tartar camp, the smoke that
issues from the earth, or rather from the snow, betrays the subterraneous
dwellings of the Tongouses, and the Samoides: the want of horses and oxen
is imperfectly supplied by the use of reindeer, and of large dogs; and the
conquerors of the earth insensibly degenerate into a race of deformed and
diminutive savages, who tremble at the sound of arms. 26
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part II.
The Huns, who under the reign of Valens threatened the empire of Rome, had
been formidable, in a much earlier period, to the empire of China. 27
Their ancient, perhaps their original, seat was an extensive, though dry
and barren, tract of country, immediately on the north side of the great
wall. Their place is at present occupied by the forty-nine Hords or
Banners of the Mongous, a pastoral nation, which consists of about two
hundred thousand families. 28 But the valor of the Huns had extended the
narrow limits of their dominions; and their rustic chiefs, who assumed the
appellation of Tanjou, gradually became the conquerors, and the sovereigns
of a formidable empire. Towards the East, their victorious arms were
stopped only by the ocean; and the tribes, which are thinly scattered
between the Amoor and the extreme peninsula of Corea, adhered, with
reluctance, to the standard of the Huns. On the West, near the head of the
Irtish, in the valleys of Imaus, they found a more ample space, and more
numerous enemies. One of the lieutenants of the Tanjou subdued, in a
single expedition, twenty-six nations; the Igours, 29 distinguished above
the Tartar race by the use of letters, were in the number of his vassals;
and, by the strange connection of human events, the flight of one of those
vagrant tribes recalled the victorious Parthians from the invasion of
Syria. 30 On the side of the North, the ocean was
assigned as the limit of the power of the Huns. Without enemies to resist
their progress, or witnesses to contradict their vanity, they might
securely achieve a real, or imaginary, conquest of the frozen regions of
Siberia. The Northern Sea was fixed as the remote boundary of their
empire. But the name of that sea, on whose shores the patriot Sovou
embraced the life of a shepherd and an exile, 31 may be transferred,
with much more probability, to the Baikal, a capacious basin, above three
hundred miles in length, which disdains the modest appellation of a lake
32
and which actually communicates with the seas of the North, by the long
course of the Angara, the Tongusha, and the Jenissea. The submission of so
many distant nations might flatter the pride of the Tanjou; but the valor
of the Huns could be rewarded only by the enjoyment of the wealth and
luxury of the empire of the South. In the third century 3211
before the Christian æra, a wall of fifteen hundred miles in length was
constructed, to defend the frontiers of China against the inroads of the
Huns; 33 but this stupendous work, which holds a
conspicuous place in the map of the world, has never contributed to the
safety of an unwarlike people. The cavalry of the Tanjou frequently
consisted of two or three hundred thousand men, formidable by the
matchless dexterity with which they managed their bows and their horses:
by their hardy patience in supporting the inclemency of the weather; and
by the incredible speed of their march, which was seldom checked by
torrents, or precipices, by the deepest rivers, or by the most lofty
mountains. They spread themselves at once over the face of the country;
and their rapid impetuosity surprised, astonished, and disconcerted the
grave and elaborate tactics of a Chinese army. The emperor Kaoti, 34
a soldier of fortune, whose personal merit had raised him to the throne,
marched against the Huns with those veteran troops which had been trained
in the civil wars of China. But he was soon surrounded by the Barbarians;
and, after a siege of seven days, the monarch, hopeless of relief, was
reduced to purchase his deliverance by an ignominious capitulation. The
successors of Kaoti, whose lives were dedicated to the arts of peace, or
the luxury of the palace, submitted to a more permanent disgrace. They too
hastily confessed the insufficiency of arms and fortifications. They were
too easily convinced, that while the blazing signals announced on every
side the approach of the Huns, the Chinese troops, who slept with the
helmet on their head, and the cuirass on their back, were destroyed by the
incessant labor of ineffectual marches. 35 A regular payment of
money, and silk, was stipulated as the condition of a temporary and
precarious peace; and the wretched expedient of disguising a real tribute,
under the names of a gift or subsidy, was practised by the emperors of
China as well as by those of Rome. But there still remained a more
disgraceful article of tribute, which violated the sacred feelings of
humanity and nature. The hardships of the savage life, which destroy in
their infancy the children who are born with a less healthy and robust
constitution, introduced a remarkable disproportion between the numbers of
the two sexes. The Tartars are an ugly and even deformed race; and while
they consider their own women as the instruments of domestic labor, their
desires, or rather their appetites, are directed to the enjoyment of more
elegant beauty. A select band of the fairest maidens of China was annually
devoted to the rude embraces of the Huns; 36 and the alliance of
the haughty Tanjous was secured by their marriage with the genuine, or
adopted, daughters of the Imperial family, which vainly attempted to
escape the sacrilegious pollution. The situation of these unhappy victims
is described in the verses of a Chinese princess, who laments that she had
been condemned by her parents to a distant exile, under a Barbarian
husband; who complains that sour milk was her only drink, raw flesh her
only food, a tent her only palace; and who expresses, in a strain of
pathetic simplicity, the natural wish, that she were transformed into a
bird, to fly back to her dear country; the object of her tender and
perpetual regret. 37
The conquest of China has been twice achieved by the pastoral tribes of
the North: the forces of the Huns were not inferior to those of the
Moguls, or of the Mantcheoux; and their ambition might entertain the most
sanguine hopes of success. But their pride was humbled, and their progress
was checked, by the arms and policy of Vouti, 38 the fifth emperor of
the powerful dynasty of the Han. In his long reign of fifty- four years,
the Barbarians of the southern provinces submitted to the laws and manners
of China; and the ancient limits of the monarchy were enlarged, from the
great river of Kiang, to the port of Canton. Instead of confining himself
to the timid operations of a defensive war, his lieutenants penetrated
many hundred miles into the country of the Huns. In those boundless
deserts, where it is impossible to form magazines, and difficult to
transport a sufficient supply of provisions, the armies of Vouti were
repeatedly exposed to intolerable hardships: and, of one hundred and forty
thousand soldiers, who marched against the Barbarians, thirty thousand
only returned in safety to the feet of their master. These losses,
however, were compensated by splendid and decisive success. The Chinese
generals improved the superiority which they derived from the temper of
their arms, their chariots of war, and the service of their Tartar
auxiliaries. The camp of the Tanjou was surprised in the midst of sleep
and intemperance; and, though the monarch of the Huns bravely cut his way
through the ranks of the enemy, he left above fifteen thousand of his
subjects on the field of battle. Yet this signal victory, which was
preceded and followed by many bloody engagements, contributed much less to
the destruction of the power of the Huns than the effectual policy which
was employed to detach the tributary nations from their obedience.
Intimidated by the arms, or allured by the promises, of Vouti and his
successors, the most considerable tribes, both of the East and of the
West, disclaimed the authority of the Tanjou. While some acknowledged
themselves the allies or vassals of the empire, they all became the
implacable enemies of the Huns; and the numbers of that haughty people, as
soon as they were reduced to their native strength, might, perhaps, have
been contained within the walls of one of the great and populous cities of
China. 39 The desertion of his subjects, and the
perplexity of a civil war, at length compelled the Tanjou himself to
renounce the dignity of an independent sovereign, and the freedom of a
warlike and high-spirited nation. He was received at Sigan, the capital of
the monarchy, by the troops, the mandarins, and the emperor himself, with
all the honors that could adorn and disguise the triumph of Chinese
vanity. 40 A magnificent palace was prepared for his
reception; his place was assigned above all the princes of the royal
family; and the patience of the Barbarian king was exhausted by the
ceremonies of a banquet, which consisted of eight courses of meat, and of
nine solemn pieces of music. But he performed, on his knees, the duty of a
respectful homage to the emperor of China; pronounced, in his own name,
and in the name of his successors, a perpetual oath of fidelity; and
gratefully accepted a seal, which was bestowed as the emblem of his regal
dependence. After this humiliating submission, the Tanjous sometimes
departed from their allegiance and seized the favorable moments of war and
rapine; but the monarchy of the Huns gradually declined, till it was
broken, by civil dissension, into two hostile and separate kingdoms. One
of the princes of the nation was urged, by fear and ambition, to retire
towards the South with eight hords, which composed between forty and fifty
thousand families. He obtained, with the title of Tanjou, a convenient
territory on the verge of the Chinese provinces; and his constant
attachment to the service of the empire was secured by weakness, and the
desire of revenge. From the time of this fatal schism, the Huns of the
North continued to languish about fifty years; till they were oppressed on
every side by their foreign and domestic enemies. The proud inscription 41
of a column, erected on a lofty mountain, announced to posterity, that a
Chinese army had marched seven hundred miles into the heart of their
country. The Sienpi, 42 a tribe of Oriental Tartars, retaliated the
injuries which they had formerly sustained; and the power of the Tanjous,
after a reign of thirteen hundred years, was utterly destroyed before the
end of the first century of the Christian æra. 43
The fate of the vanquished Huns was diversified by the various influence
of character and situation. 44 Above one hundred
thousand persons, the poorest, indeed, and the most pusillanimous of the
people, were contented to remain in their native country, to renounce
their peculiar name and origin, and to mingle with the victorious nation
of the Sienpi. Fifty-eight hords, about two hundred thousand men,
ambitious of a more honorable servitude, retired towards the South;
implored the protection of the emperors of China; and were permitted to
inhabit, and to guard, the extreme frontiers of the province of Chansi and
the territory of Ortous. But the most warlike and powerful tribes of the
Huns maintained, in their adverse fortune, the undaunted spirit of their
ancestors. The Western world was open to their valor; and they resolved,
under the conduct of their hereditary chieftains, to conquer and subdue
some remote country, which was still inaccessible to the arms of the
Sienpi, and to the laws of China. 45 The course of their
emigration soon carried them beyond the mountains of Imaus, and the limits
of the Chinese geography; but we are able to distinguish the two great
divisions of these formidable exiles, which directed their march towards
the Oxus, and towards the Volga. The first of these colonies established
their dominion in the fruitful and extensive plains of Sogdiana, on the
eastern side of the Caspian; where they preserved the name of Huns, with
the epithet of Euthalites, or Nepthalites. 4511 Their manners
were softened, and even their features were insensibly improved, by the
mildness of the climate, and their long residence in a flourishing
province, 46 which might still retain a faint impression
of the arts of Greece. 47 The white Huns, a name which they derived
from the change of their complexions, soon abandoned the pastoral life of
Scythia. Gorgo, which, under the appellation of Carizme, has since enjoyed
a temporary splendor, was the residence of the king, who exercised a legal
authority over an obedient people. Their luxury was maintained by the
labor of the Sogdians; and the only vestige of their ancient barbarism,
was the custom which obliged all the companions, perhaps to the number of
twenty, who had shared the liberality of a wealthy lord, to be buried
alive in the same grave. 48 The vicinity of the Huns to the provinces of
Persia, involved them in frequent and bloody contests with the power of
that monarchy. But they respected, in peace, the faith of treaties; in
war, the dictates of humanity; and their memorable victory over Peroses,
or Firuz, displayed the moderation, as well as the valor, of the
Barbarians. The second division of their countrymen, the Huns, who
gradually advanced towards the North-west, were exercised by the hardships
of a colder climate, and a more laborious march. Necessity compelled them
to exchange the silks of China for the furs of Siberia; the imperfect
rudiments of civilized life were obliterated; and the native fierceness of
the Huns was exasperated by their intercourse with the savage tribes, who
were compared, with some propriety, to the wild beasts of the desert.
Their independent spirit soon rejected the hereditary succession of the
Tanjous; and while each horde was governed by its peculiar mursa, their
tumultuary council directed the public measures of the whole nation. As
late as the thirteenth century, their transient residence on the eastern
banks of the Volga was attested by the name of Great Hungary. 49
In the winter, they descended with their flocks and herds towards the
mouth of that mighty river; and their summer excursions reached as high as
the latitude of Saratoff, or perhaps the conflux of the Kama. Such at
least were the recent limits of the black Calmucks, 50
who remained about a century under the protection of Russia; and who have
since returned to their native seats on the frontiers of the Chinese
empire. The march, and the return, of those wandering Tartars, whose
united camp consists of fifty thousand tents or families, illustrate the
distant emigrations of the ancient Huns. 51
It is impossible to fill the dark interval of time, which elapsed, after
the Huns of the Volga were lost in the eyes of the Chinese, and before
they showed themselves to those of the Romans. There is some reason,
however, to apprehend, that the same force which had driven them from
their native seats, still continued to impel their march towards the
frontiers of Europe. The power of the Sienpi, their implacable enemies,
which extended above three thousand miles from East to West, 52
must have gradually oppressed them by the weight and terror of a
formidable neighborhood; and the flight of the tribes of Scythia would
inevitably tend to increase the strength or to contract the territories,
of the Huns. The harsh and obscure appellations of those tribes would
offend the ear, without informing the understanding, of the reader; but I
cannot suppress the very natural suspicion, that the Huns of the North
derived a considerable reenforcement from the ruin of the dynasty of the
South, which, in the course of the third century, submitted to the
dominion of China; that the bravest warriors marched away in search of
their free and adventurous countrymen; and that, as they had been divided
by prosperity, they were easily reunited by the common hardships of their
adverse fortune. 53 The Huns, with their flocks and herds, their
wives and children, their dependents and allies, were transported to the
west of the Volga, and they boldly advanced to invade the country of the
Alani, a pastoral people, who occupied, or wasted, an extensive tract of
the deserts of Scythia. The plains between the Volga and the Tanais were
covered with the tents of the Alani, but their name and manners were
diffused over the wide extent of their conquests; and the painted tribes
of the Agathyrsi and Geloni were confounded among their vassals. Towards
the North, they penetrated into the frozen regions of Siberia, among the
savages who were accustomed, in their rage or hunger, to the taste of
human flesh; and their Southern inroads were pushed as far as the confines
of Persia and India. The mixture of Samartic and German blood had
contributed to improve the features of the Alani, 5311
to whiten their swarthy complexions, and to tinge their hair with a
yellowish cast, which is seldom found in the Tartar race. They were less
deformed in their persons, less brutish in their manners, than the Huns;
but they did not yield to those formidable Barbarians in their martial and
independent spirit; in the love of freedom, which rejected even the use of
domestic slaves; and in the love of arms, which considered war and rapine
as the pleasure and the glory of mankind. A naked cimeter, fixed in the
ground, was the only object of their religious worship; the scalps of
their enemies formed the costly trappings of their horses; and they
viewed, with pity and contempt, the pusillanimous warriors, who patiently
expected the infirmities of age, and the tortures of lingering disease. 54
On the banks of the Tanais, the military power of the Huns and the Alani
encountered each other with equal valor, but with unequal success. The
Huns prevailed in the bloody contest; the king of the Alani was slain; and
the remains of the vanquished nation were dispersed by the ordinary
alternative of flight or submission. 55 A colony of exiles
found a secure refuge in the mountains of Caucasus, between the Euxine and
the Caspian, where they still preserve their name and their independence.
Another colony advanced, with more intrepid courage, towards the shores of
the Baltic; associated themselves with the Northern tribes of Germany; and
shared the spoil of the Roman provinces of Gaul and Spain. But the
greatest part of the nation of the Alani embraced the offers of an
honorable and advantageous union; and the Huns, who esteemed the valor of
their less fortunate enemies, proceeded, with an increase of numbers and
confidence, to invade the limits of the Gothic empire.
The great Hermanric, whose dominions extended from the Baltic to the
Euxine, enjoyed, in the full maturity of age and reputation, the fruit of
his victories, when he was alarmed by the formidable approach of a host of
unknown enemies, 56 on whom his barbarous subjects might, without
injustice, bestow the epithet of Barbarians. The numbers, the strength,
the rapid motions, and the implacable cruelty of the Huns, were felt, and
dreaded, and magnified, by the astonished Goths; who beheld their fields
and villages consumed with flames, and deluged with indiscriminate
slaughter. To these real terrors they added the surprise and abhorrence
which were excited by the shrill voice, the uncouth gestures, and the
strange deformity of the Huns. 5611 These savages
of Scythia were compared (and the picture had some resemblance) to the
animals who walk very awkwardly on two legs and to the misshapen figures,
the Termini, which were often placed on the bridges of antiquity. They
were distinguished from the rest of the human species by their broad
shoulders, flat noses, and small black eyes, deeply buried in the head;
and as they were almost destitute of beards, they never enjoyed either the
manly grace of youth, or the venerable aspect of age. 57
A fabulous origin was assigned, worthy of their form and manners; that the
witches of Scythia, who, for their foul and deadly practices, had been
driven from society, had copulated in the desert with infernal spirits;
and that the Huns were the offspring of this execrable conjunction. 58
The tale, so full of horror and absurdity, was greedily embraced by the
credulous hatred of the Goths; but, while it gratified their hatred, it
increased their fear, since the posterity of dæmons and witches might be
supposed to inherit some share of the præternatural powers, as well as of
the malignant temper, of their parents. Against these enemies, Hermanric
prepared to exert the united forces of the Gothic state; but he soon
discovered that his vassal tribes, provoked by oppression, were much more
inclined to second, than to repel, the invasion of the Huns. One of the
chiefs of the Roxolani 59 had formerly deserted the standard of
Hermanric, and the cruel tyrant had condemned the innocent wife of the
traitor to be torn asunder by wild horses. The brothers of that
unfortunate woman seized the favorable moment of revenge.
The aged king of the Goths languished some time after the dangerous wound
which he received from their daggers; but the conduct of the war was
retarded by his infirmities; and the public councils of the nation were
distracted by a spirit of jealousy and discord. His death, which has been
imputed to his own despair, left the reins of government in the hands of
Withimer, who, with the doubtful aid of some Scythian mercenaries,
maintained the unequal contest against the arms of the Huns and the Alani,
till he was defeated and slain in a decisive battle. The Ostrogoths
submitted to their fate; and the royal race of the Amali will hereafter be
found among the subjects of the haughty Attila. But the person of
Witheric, the infant king, was saved by the diligence of Alatheus and
Saphrax; two warriors of approved valor and fiedlity, who, by cautious
marches, conducted the independent remains of the nation of the Ostrogoths
towards the Danastus, or Niester; a considerable river, which now
separates the Turkish dominions from the empire of Russia. On the banks of
the Niester, the prudent Athanaric, more attentive to his own than to the
general safety, had fixed the camp of the Visigoths; with the firm
resolution of opposing the victorious Barbarians, whom he thought it less
advisable to provoke. The ordinary speed of the Huns was checked by the
weight of baggage, and the encumbrance of captives; but their military
skill deceived, and almost destroyed, the army of Athanaric. While the
Judge of the Visigoths defended the banks of the Niester, he was
encompassed and attacked by a numerous detachment of cavalry, who, by the
light of the moon, had passed the river in a fordable place; and it was
not without the utmost efforts of courage and conduct, that he was able to
effect his retreat towards the hilly country. The undaunted general had
already formed a new and judicious plan of defensive war; and the strong
lines, which he was preparing to construct between the mountains, the
Pruth, and the Danube, would have secured the extensive and fertile
territory that bears the modern name of Walachia, from the destructive
inroads of the Huns. 60 But the hopes and measures of the Judge of
the Visigoths was soon disappointed, by the trembling impatience of his
dismayed countrymen; who were persuaded by their fears, that the
interposition of the Danube was the only barrier that could save them from
the rapid pursuit, and invincible valor, of the Barbarians of Scythia.
Under the command of Fritigern and Alavivus, 61 the body of the
nation hastily advanced to the banks of the great river, and implored the
protection of the Roman emperor of the East. Athanaric himself, still
anxious to avoid the guilt of perjury, retired, with a band of faithful
followers, into the mountainous country of Caucaland; which appears to
have been guarded, and almost concealed, by the impenetrable forests of
Transylvania. 62 6211
Obtundit teneras circumdata fascia nares,
Ut galeis cedant.
Stant pectora vasta,
Insignes humer, succincta sub ilibus alvus.
Forma quidem pediti media est, procera sed extat
Si cernas equites, sic longi sæpe putantur
Si sedeant.]
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part III.
After Valens had terminated the Gothic war with some appearance of glory
and success, he made a progress through his dominions of Asia, and at
length fixed his residence in the capital of Syria. The five years 63
which he spent at Antioch was employed to watch, from a secure distance,
the hostile designs of the Persian monarch; to check the depredations of
the Saracens and Isaurians; 64 to enforce, by
arguments more prevalent than those of reason and eloquence, the belief of
the Arian theology; and to satisfy his anxious suspicions by the
promiscuous execution of the innocent and the guilty. But the attention of
the emperor was most seriously engaged, by the important intelligence
which he received from the civil and military officers who were intrusted
with the defence of the Danube. He was informed, that the North was
agitated by a furious tempest; that the irruption of the Huns, an unknown
and monstrous race of savages, had subverted the power of the Goths; and
that the suppliant multitudes of that warlike nation, whose pride was now
humbled in the dust, covered a space of many miles along the banks of the
river. With outstretched arms, and pathetic lamentations, they loudly
deplored their past misfortunes and their present danger; acknowledged
that their only hope of safety was in the clemency of the Roman
government; and most solemnly protested, that if the gracious liberality
of the emperor would permit them to cultivate the waste lands of Thrace,
they should ever hold themselves bound, by the strongest obligations of
duty and gratitude, to obey the laws, and to guard the limits, of the
republic. These assurances were confirmed by the ambassadors of the Goths,
6411 who impatiently expected from the mouth
of Valens an answer that must finally determine the fate of their unhappy
countrymen. The emperor of the East was no longer guided by the wisdom and
authority of his elder brother, whose death happened towards the end of
the preceding year; and as the distressful situation of the Goths required
an instant and peremptory decision, he was deprived of the favorite
resources of feeble and timid minds, who consider the use of dilatory and
ambiguous measures as the most admirable efforts of consummate prudence.
As long as the same passions and interests subsist among mankind, the
questions of war and peace, of justice and policy, which were debated in
the councils of antiquity, will frequently present themselves as the
subject of modern deliberation. But the most experienced statesman of
Europe has never been summoned to consider the propriety, or the danger,
of admitting, or rejecting, an innumerable multitude of Barbarians, who
are driven by despair and hunger to solicit a settlement on the
territories of a civilized nation. When that important proposition, so
essentially connected with the public safety, was referred to the
ministers of Valens, they were perplexed and divided; but they soon
acquiesced in the flattering sentiment which seemed the most favorable to
the pride, the indolence, and the avarice of their sovereign. The slaves,
who were decorated with the titles of præfects and generals, dissembled
or disregarded the terrors of this national emigration; so extremely
different from the partial and accidental colonies, which had been
received on the extreme limits of the empire. But they applauded the
liberality of fortune, which had conducted, from the most distant
countries of the globe, a numerous and invincible army of strangers, to
defend the throne of Valens; who might now add to the royal treasures the
immense sums of gold supplied by the provincials to compensate their
annual proportion of recruits. The prayers of the Goths were granted, and
their service was accepted by the Imperial court: and orders were
immediately despatched to the civil and military governors of the Thracian
diocese, to make the necessary preparations for the passage and
subsistence of a great people, till a proper and sufficient territory
could be allotted for their future residence. The liberality of the
emperor was accompanied, however, with two harsh and rigorous conditions,
which prudence might justify on the side of the Romans; but which distress
alone could extort from the indignant Goths. Before they passed the
Danube, they were required to deliver their arms: and it was insisted,
that their children should be taken from them, and dispersed through the
provinces of Asia; where they might be civilized by the arts of education,
and serve as hostages to secure the fidelity of their parents.
During the suspense of a doubtful and distant negotiation, the impatient
Goths made some rash attempts to pass the Danube, without the permission
of the government, whose protection they had implored. Their motions were
strictly observed by the vigilance of the troops which were stationed
along the river and their foremost detachments were defeated with
considerable slaughter; yet such were the timid councils of the reign of
Valens, that the brave officers who had served their country in the
execution of their duty, were punished by the loss of their employments,
and narrowly escaped the loss of their heads. The Imperial mandate was at
length received for transporting over the Danube the whole body of the
Gothic nation; 65 but the execution of this order was a task of
labor and difficulty. The stream of the Danube, which in those parts is
above a mile broad, 66 had been swelled by incessant rains; and in
this tumultuous passage, many were swept away, and drowned, by the rapid
violence of the current. A large fleet of vessels, of boats, and of
canoes, was provided; many days and nights they passed and repassed with
indefatigable toil; and the most strenuous diligence was exerted by the
officers of Valens, that not a single Barbarian, of those who were
reserved to subvert the foundations of Rome, should be left on the
opposite shore. It was thought expedient that an accurate account should
be taken of their numbers; but the persons who were employed soon
desisted, with amazement and dismay, from the prosecution of the endless
and impracticable task: 67 and the principal historian of the age most
seriously affirms, that the prodigious armies of Darius and Xerxes, which
had so long been considered as the fables of vain and credulous antiquity,
were now justified, in the eyes of mankind, by the evidence of fact and
experience. A probable testimony has fixed the number of the Gothic
warriors at two hundred thousand men: and if we can venture to add the
just proportion of women, of children, and of slaves, the whole mass of
people which composed this formidable emigration, must have amounted to
near a million of persons, of both sexes, and of all ages. The children of
the Goths, those at least of a distinguished rank, were separated from the
multitude. They were conducted, without delay, to the distant seats
assigned for their residence and education; and as the numerous train of
hostages or captives passed through the cities, their gay and splendid
apparel, their robust and martial figure, excited the surprise and envy of
the Provincials. 6711 But the stipulation, the most offensive
to the Goths, and the most important to the Romans, was shamefully eluded.
The Barbarians, who considered their arms as the ensigns of honor and the
pledges of safety, were disposed to offer a price, which the lust or
avarice of the Imperial officers was easily tempted to accept. To preserve
their arms, the haughty warriors consented, with some reluctance, to
prostitute their wives or their daughters; the charms of a beauteous maid,
or a comely boy, secured the connivance of the inspectors; who sometimes
cast an eye of covetousness on the fringed carpets and linen garments of
their new allies, 68 or who sacrificed their duty to the mean
consideration of filling their farms with cattle, and their houses with
slaves. The Goths, with arms in their hands, were permitted to enter the
boats; and when their strength was collected on the other side of the
river, the immense camp which was spread over the plains and the hills of
the Lower Mæsia, assumed a threatening and even hostile aspect. The
leaders of the Ostrogoths, Alatheus and Saphrax, the guardians of their
infant king, appeared soon afterwards on the Northern banks of the Danube;
and immediately despatched their ambassadors to the court of Antioch, to
solicit, with the same professions of allegiance and gratitude, the same
favor which had been granted to the suppliant Visigoths. The absolute
refusal of Valens suspended their progress, and discovered the repentance,
the suspicions, and the fears, of the Imperial council.
Quem sci scire velit, Libyci velit æquoris idem
Discere quam multæ Zephyro turbentur harenæ.
An undisciplined and unsettled nation of Barbarians required the firmest
temper, and the most dexterous management. The daily subsistence of near a
million of extraordinary subjects could be supplied only by constant and
skilful diligence, and might continually be interrupted by mistake or
accident. The insolence, or the indignation, of the Goths, if they
conceived themselves to be the objects either of fear or of contempt,
might urge them to the most desperate extremities; and the fortune of the
state seemed to depend on the prudence, as well as the integrity, of the
generals of Valens. At this important crisis, the military government of
Thrace was exercised by Lupicinus and Maximus, in whose venal minds the
slightest hope of private emolument outweighed every consideration of
public advantage; and whose guilt was only alleviated by their incapacity
of discerning the pernicious effects of their rash and criminal
administration.
Instead of obeying the orders of their sovereign, and satisfying, with
decent liberality, the demands of the Goths, they levied an ungenerous and
oppressive tax on the wants of the hungry Barbarians. The vilest food was
sold at an extravagant price; and, in the room of wholesome and
substantial provisions, the markets were filled with the flesh of dogs,
and of unclean animals, who had died of disease. To obtain the valuable
acquisition of a pound of bread, the Goths resigned the possession of an
expensive, though serviceable, slave; and a small quantity of meat was
greedily purchased with ten pounds of a precious, but useless metal, 69
when their property was exhausted, they continued this necessary traffic
by the sale of their sons and daughters; and notwithstanding the love of
freedom, which animated every Gothic breast, they submitted to the
humiliating maxim, that it was better for their children to be maintained
in a servile condition, than to perish in a state of wretched and helpless
independence. The most lively resentment is excited by the tyranny of
pretended benefactors, who sternly exact the debt of gratitude which they
have cancelled by subsequent injuries: a spirit of discontent insensibly
arose in the camp of the Barbarians, who pleaded, without success, the
merit of their patient and dutiful behavior; and loudly complained of the
inhospitable treatment which they had received from their new allies. They
beheld around them the wealth and plenty of a fertile province, in the
midst of which they suffered the intolerable hardships of artificial
famine. But the means of relief, and even of revenge, were in their hands;
since the rapaciousness of their tyrants had left to an injured people the
possession and the use of arms. The clamors of a multitude, untaught to
disguise their sentiments, announced the first symptoms of resistance, and
alarmed the timid and guilty minds of Lupicinus and Maximus. Those crafty
ministers, who substituted the cunning of temporary expedients to the wise
and salutary counsels of general policy, attempted to remove the Goths
from their dangerous station on the frontiers of the empire; and to
disperse them, in separate quarters of cantonment, through the interior
provinces. As they were conscious how ill they had deserved the respect,
or confidence, of the Barbarians, they diligently collected, from every
side, a military force, that might urge the tardy and reluctant march of a
people, who had not yet renounced the title, or the duties, of Roman
subjects. But the generals of Valens, while their attention was solely
directed to the discontented Visigoths, imprudently disarmed the ships and
the fortifications which constituted the defence of the Danube. The fatal
oversight was observed, and improved, by Alatheus and Saphrax, who
anxiously watched the favorable moment of escaping from the pursuit of the
Huns. By the help of such rafts and vessels as could be hastily procured,
the leaders of the Ostrogoths transported, without opposition, their king
and their army; and boldly fixed a hostile and independent camp on the
territories of the empire. 70
Under the name of Judges, Alavivus and Fritigern were the leaders of the
Visigoths in peace and war; and the authority which they derived from
their birth was ratified by the free consent of the nation. In a season of
tranquility, their power might have been equal, as well as their rank;
but, as soon as their countrymen were exasperated by hunger and
oppression, the superior abilities of Fritigern assumed the military
command, which he was qualified to exercise for the public welfare. He
restrained the impatient spirit of the Visigoths till the injuries and the
insults of their tyrants should justify their resistance in the opinion of
mankind: but he was not disposed to sacrifice any solid advantages for the
empty praise of justice and moderation. Sensible of the benefits which
would result from the union of the Gothic powers under the same standard,
he secretly cultivated the friendship of the Ostrogoths; and while he
professed an implicit obedience to the orders of the Roman generals, he
proceeded by slow marches towards Marcianopolis, the capital of the Lower
Mæsia, about seventy miles from the banks of the Danube. On that fatal
spot, the flames of discord and mutual hatred burst forth into a dreadful
conflagration. Lupicinus had invited the Gothic chiefs to a splendid
entertainment; and their martial train remained under arms at the entrance
of the palace. But the gates of the city were strictly guarded, and the
Barbarians were sternly excluded from the use of a plentiful market, to
which they asserted their equal claim of subjects and allies. Their humble
prayers were rejected with insolence and derision; and as their patience
was now exhausted, the townsmen, the soldiers, and the Goths, were soon
involved in a conflict of passionate altercation and angry reproaches. A
blow was imprudently given; a sword was hastily drawn; and the first blood
that was spilt in this accidental quarrel, became the signal of a long and
destructive war. In the midst of noise and brutal intemperance, Lupicinus
was informed, by a secret messenger, that many of his soldiers were slain,
and despoiled of their arms; and as he was already inflamed by wine, and
oppressed by sleep he issued a rash command, that their death should be
revenged by the massacre of the guards of Fritigern and Alavivus.
The clamorous shouts and dying groans apprised Fritigern of his extreme
danger; and, as he possessed the calm and intrepid spirit of a hero, he
saw that he was lost if he allowed a moment of deliberation to the man who
had so deeply injured him. “A trifling dispute,” said the Gothic leader,
with a firm but gentle tone of voice, “appears to have arisen between the
two nations; but it may be productive of the most dangerous consequences,
unless the tumult is immediately pacified by the assurance of our safety,
and the authority of our presence.” At these words, Fritigern and his
companions drew their swords, opened their passage through the unresisting
crowd, which filled the palace, the streets, and the gates, of
Marcianopolis, and, mounting their horses, hastily vanished from the eyes
of the astonished Romans. The generals of the Goths were saluted by the
fierce and joyful acclamations of the camp; war was instantly resolved,
and the resolution was executed without delay: the banners of the nation
were displayed according to the custom of their ancestors; and the air
resounded with the harsh and mournful music of the Barbarian trumpet. 71
The weak and guilty Lupicinus, who had dared to provoke, who had neglected
to destroy, and who still presumed to despise, his formidable enemy,
marched against the Goths, at the head of such a military force as could
be collected on this sudden emergency. The Barbarians expected his
approach about nine miles from Marcianopolis; and on this occasion the
talents of the general were found to be of more prevailing efficacy than
the weapons and discipline of the troops. The valor of the Goths was so
ably directed by the genius of Fritigern, that they broke, by a close and
vigorous attack, the ranks of the Roman legions. Lupicinus left his arms
and standards, his tribunes and his bravest soldiers, on the field of
battle; and their useless courage served only to protect the ignominious
flight of their leader. “That successful day put an end to the distress of
the Barbarians, and the security of the Romans: from that day, the Goths,
renouncing the precarious condition of strangers and exiles, assumed the
character of citizens and masters, claimed an absolute dominion over the
possessors of land, and held, in their own right, the northern provinces
of the empire, which are bounded by the Danube.” Such are the words of the
Gothic historian, 72 who celebrates, with rude eloquence, the
glory of his countrymen. But the dominion of the Barbarians was exercised
only for the purposes of rapine and destruction. As they had been
deprived, by the ministers of the emperor, of the common benefits of
nature, and the fair intercourse of social life, they retaliated the
injustice on the subjects of the empire; and the crimes of Lupicinus were
expiated by the ruin of the peaceful husbandmen of Thrace, the
conflagration of their villages, and the massacre, or captivity, of their
innocent families. The report of the Gothic victory was soon diffused over
the adjacent country; and while it filled the minds of the Romans with
terror and dismay, their own hasty imprudence contributed to increase the
forces of Fritigern, and the calamities of the province. Some time before
the great emigration, a numerous body of Goths, under the command of
Suerid and Colias, had been received into the protection and service of
the empire. 73 They were encamped under the walls of
Hadrianople; but the ministers of Valens were anxious to remove them
beyond the Hellespont, at a distance from the dangerous temptation which
might so easily be communicated by the neighborhood, and the success, of
their countrymen. The respectful submission with which they yielded to the
order of their march, might be considered as a proof of their fidelity;
and their moderate request of a sufficient allowance of provisions, and of
a delay of only two days was expressed in the most dutiful terms. But the
first magistrate of Hadrianople, incensed by some disorders which had been
committed at his country-house, refused this indulgence; and arming
against them the inhabitants and manufacturers of a populous city, he
urged, with hostile threats, their instant departure. The Barbarians stood
silent and amazed, till they were exasperated by the insulting clamors,
and missile weapons, of the populace: but when patience or contempt was
fatigued, they crushed the undisciplined multitude, inflicted many a
shameful wound on the backs of their flying enemies, and despoiled them of
the splendid armor, 74 which they were unworthy to bear. The
resemblance of their sufferings and their actions soon united this
victorious detachment to the nation of the Visigoths; the troops of Colias
and Suerid expected the approach of the great Fritigern, ranged themselves
under his standard, and signalized their ardor in the siege of
Hadrianople. But the resistance of the garrison informed the Barbarians,
that in the attack of regular fortifications, the efforts of unskillful
courage are seldom effectual. Their general acknowledged his error, raised
the siege, declared that “he was at peace with stone walls,” 75
and revenged his disappointment on the adjacent country. He accepted, with
pleasure, the useful reenforcement of hardy workmen, who labored in the
gold mines of Thrace, 76 for the emolument, and under the lash, of an
unfeeling master: 77 and these new associates conducted the
Barbarians, through the secret paths, to the most sequestered places,
which had been chosen to secure the inhabitants, the cattle, and the
magazines of corn. With the assistance of such guides, nothing could
remain impervious or inaccessible; resistance was fatal; flight was
impracticable; and the patient submission of helpless innocence seldom
found mercy from the Barbarian conqueror. In the course of these
depredations, a great number of the children of the Goths, who had been
sold into captivity, were restored to the embraces of their afflicted
parents; but these tender interviews, which might have revived and
cherished in their minds some sentiments of humanity, tended only to
stimulate their native fierceness by the desire of revenge. They listened,
with eager attention, to the complaints of their captive children, who had
suffered the most cruel indignities from the lustful or angry passions of
their masters, and the same cruelties, the same indignities, were severely
retaliated on the sons and daughters of the Romans. 78
The imprudence of Valens and his ministers had introduced into the heart
of the empire a nation of enemies; but the Visigoths might even yet have
been reconciled, by the manly confession of past errors, and the sincere
performance of former engagements. These healing and temperate measures
seemed to concur with the timorous disposition of the sovereign of the
East: but, on this occasion alone, Valens was brave; and his unseasonable
bravery was fatal to himself and to his subjects. He declared his
intention of marching from Antioch to Constantinople, to subdue this
dangerous rebellion; and, as he was not ignorant of the difficulties of
the enterprise, he solicited the assistance of his nephew, the emperor
Gratian, who commanded all the forces of the West. The veteran troops were
hastily recalled from the defence of Armenia; that important frontier was
abandoned to the discretion of Sapor; and the immediate conduct of the
Gothic war was intrusted, during the absence of Valens, to his lieutenants
Trajan and Profuturus, two generals who indulged themselves in a very
false and favorable opinion of their own abilities. On their arrival in
Thrace, they were joined by Richomer, count of the domestics; and the
auxiliaries of the West, that marched under his banner, were composed of
the Gallic legions, reduced indeed, by a spirit of desertion, to the vain
appearances of strength and numbers. In a council of war, which was
influenced by pride, rather than by reason, it was resolved to seek, and
to encounter, the Barbarians, who lay encamped in the spacious and fertile
meadows, near the most southern of the six mouths of the Danube. 79
Their camp was surrounded by the usual fortification of wagons; 80
and the Barbarians, secure within the vast circle of the enclosure,
enjoyed the fruits of their valor, and the spoils of the province. In the
midst of riotous intemperance, the watchful Fritigern observed the
motions, and penetrated the designs, of the Romans. He perceived, that the
numbers of the enemy were continually increasing: and, as he understood
their intention of attacking his rear, as soon as the scarcity of forage
should oblige him to remove his camp, he recalled to their standard his
predatory detachments, which covered the adjacent country. As soon as they
descried the flaming beacons, 81 they obeyed, with
incredible speed, the signal of their leader: the camp was filled with the
martial crowd of Barbarians; their impatient clamors demanded the battle,
and their tumultuous zeal was approved and animated by the spirit of their
chiefs. The evening was already far advanced; and the two armies prepared
themselves for the approaching combat, which was deferred only till the
dawn of day.
While the trumpets sounded to arms, the undaunted courage of the Goths was
confirmed by the mutual obligation of a solemn oath; and as they advanced
to meet the enemy, the rude songs, which celebrated the glory of their
forefathers, were mingled with their fierce and dissonant outcries, and
opposed to the artificial harmony of the Roman shout. Some military skill
was displayed by Fritigern to gain the advantage of a commanding eminence;
but the bloody conflict, which began and ended with the light, was
maintained on either side, by the personal and obstinate efforts of
strength, valor, and agility. The legions of Armenia supported their fame
in arms; but they were oppressed by the irresistible weight of the hostile
multitude the left wing of the Romans was thrown into disorder and the
field was strewed with their mangled carcasses. This partial defeat was
balanced, however, by partial success; and when the two armies, at a late
hour of the evening, retreated to their respective camps, neither of them
could claim the honors, or the effects, of a decisive victory. The real
loss was more severely felt by the Romans, in proportion to the smallness
of their numbers; but the Goths were so deeply confounded and dismayed by
this vigorous, and perhaps unexpected, resistance, that they remained
seven days within the circle of their fortifications. Such funeral rites,
as the circumstances of time and place would admit, were piously
discharged to some officers of distinguished rank; but the indiscriminate
vulgar was left unburied on the plain. Their flesh was greedily devoured
by the birds of prey, who in that age enjoyed very frequent and delicious
feasts; and several years afterwards the white and naked bones, which
covered the wide extent of the fields, presented to the eyes of Ammianus a
dreadful monument of the battle of Salices. 82
The progress of the Goths had been checked by the doubtful event of that
bloody day; and the Imperial generals, whose army would have been consumed
by the repetition of such a contest, embraced the more rational plan of
destroying the Barbarians by the wants and pressure of their own
multitudes. They prepared to confine the Visigoths in the narrow angle of
land between the Danube, the desert of Scythia, and the mountains of
Hæmus, till their strength and spirit should be insensibly wasted by the
inevitable operation of famine. The design was prosecuted with some
conduct and success: the Barbarians had almost exhausted their own
magazines, and the harvests of the country; and the diligence of
Saturninus, the master-general of the cavalry, was employed to improve the
strength, and to contract the extent, of the Roman fortifications. His
labors were interrupted by the alarming intelligence, that new swarms of
Barbarians had passed the unguarded Danube, either to support the cause,
or to imitate the example, of Fritigern. The just apprehension, that he
himself might be surrounded, and overwhelmed, by the arms of hostile and
unknown nations, compelled Saturninus to relinquish the siege of the
Gothic camp; and the indignant Visigoths, breaking from their confinement,
satiated their hunger and revenge by the repeated devastation of the
fruitful country, which extends above three hundred miles from the banks
of the Danube to the straits of the Hellespont. 83 The sagacious
Fritigern had successfully appealed to the passions, as well as to the
interest, of his Barbarian allies; and the love of rapine, and the hatred
of Rome, seconded, or even prevented, the eloquence of his ambassadors. He
cemented a strict and useful alliance with the great body of his
countrymen, who obeyed Alatheus and Saphrax as the guardians of their
infant king: the long animosity of rival tribes was suspended by the sense
of their common interest; the independent part of the nation was
associated under one standard; and the chiefs of the Ostrogoths appear to
have yielded to the superior genius of the general of the Visigoths. He
obtained the formidable aid of the Taifalæ, 8311 whose military
renown was disgraced and polluted by the public infamy of their domestic
manners. Every youth, on his entrance into the world, was united by the
ties of honorable friendship, and brutal love, to some warrior of the
tribe; nor could he hope to be released from this unnatural connection,
till he had approved his manhood by slaying, in single combat, a huge
bear, or a wild boar of the forest. 84 But the most powerful
auxiliaries of the Goths were drawn from the camp of those enemies who had
expelled them from their native seats. The loose subordination, and
extensive possessions, of the Huns and the Alani, delayed the conquests,
and distracted the councils, of that victorious people. Several of the
hords were allured by the liberal promises of Fritigern; and the rapid
cavalry of Scythia added weight and energy to the steady and strenuous
efforts of the Gothic infantry. The Sarmatians, who could never forgive
the successor of Valentinian, enjoyed and increased the general confusion;
and a seasonable irruption of the Alemanni, into the provinces of Gaul,
engaged the attention, and diverted the forces, of the emperor of the
West. 85
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part IV.
One of the most dangerous inconveniences of the introduction of the
Barbarians into the army and the palace, was sensibly felt in their
correspondence with their hostile countrymen; to whom they imprudently, or
maliciously, revealed the weakness of the Roman empire. A soldier, of the
lifeguards of Gratian, was of the nation of the Alemanni, and of the tribe
of the Lentienses, who dwelt beyond the Lake of Constance. Some domestic
business obliged him to request a leave of absence. In a short visit to
his family and friends, he was exposed to their curious inquiries: and the
vanity of the loquacious soldier tempted him to display his intimate
acquaintance with the secrets of the state, and the designs of his master.
The intelligence, that Gratian was preparing to lead the military force of
Gaul, and of the West, to the assistance of his uncle Valens, pointed out
to the restless spirit of the Alemanni the moment, and the mode, of a
successful invasion. The enterprise of some light detachments, who, in the
month of February, passed the Rhine upon the ice, was the prelude of a
more important war. The boldest hopes of rapine, perhaps of conquest,
outweighed the considerations of timid prudence, or national faith. Every
forest, and every village, poured forth a band of hardy adventurers; and
the great army of the Alemanni, which, on their approach, was estimated at
forty thousand men by the fears of the people, was afterwards magnified to
the number of seventy thousand by the vain and credulous flattery of the
Imperial court. The legions, which had been ordered to march into
Pannonia, were immediately recalled, or detained, for the defence of Gaul;
the military command was divided between Nanienus and Mellobaudes; and the
youthful emperor, though he respected the long experience and sober wisdom
of the former, was much more inclined to admire, and to follow, the
martial ardor of his colleague; who was allowed to unite the incompatible
characters of count of the domestics, and of king of the Franks. His rival
Priarius, king of the Alemanni, was guided, or rather impelled, by the
same headstrong valor; and as their troops were animated by the spirit of
their leaders, they met, they saw, they encountered each other, near the
town of Argentaria, or Colmar, 86 in the plains of
Alsace. The glory of the day was justly ascribed to the missile weapons,
and well-practised evolutions, of the Roman soldiers; the Alemanni, who
long maintained their ground, were slaughtered with unrelenting fury; five
thousand only of the Barbarians escaped to the woods and mountains; and
the glorious death of their king on the field of battle saved him from the
reproaches of the people, who are always disposed to accuse the justice,
or policy, of an unsuccessful war. After this signal victory, which
secured the peace of Gaul, and asserted the honor of the Roman arms, the
emperor Gratian appeared to proceed without delay on his Eastern
expedition; but as he approached the confines of the Alemanni, he suddenly
inclined to the left, surprised them by his unexpected passage of the
Rhine, and boldly advanced into the heart of their country. The Barbarians
opposed to his progress the obstacles of nature and of courage; and still
continued to retreat, from one hill to another, till they were satisfied,
by repeated trials, of the power and perseverance of their enemies. Their
submission was accepted as a proof, not indeed of their sincere
repentance, but of their actual distress; and a select number of their
brave and robust youth was exacted from the faithless nation, as the most
substantial pledge of their future moderation. The subjects of the empire,
who had so often experienced that the Alemanni could neither be subdued by
arms, nor restrained by treaties, might not promise themselves any solid
or lasting tranquillity: but they discovered, in the virtues of their
young sovereign, the prospect of a long and auspicious reign. When the
legions climbed the mountains, and scaled the fortifications of the
Barbarians, the valor of Gratian was distinguished in the foremost ranks;
and the gilt and variegated armor of his guards was pierced and shattered
by the blows which they had received in their constant attachment to the
person of their sovereign. At the age of nineteen, the son of Valentinian
seemed to possess the talents of peace and war; and his personal success
against the Alemanni was interpreted as a sure presage of his Gothic
triumphs. 87
While Gratian deserved and enjoyed the applause of his subjects, the
emperor Valens, who, at length, had removed his court and army from
Antioch, was received by the people of Constantinople as the author of the
public calamity. Before he had reposed himself ten days in the capital, he
was urged by the licentious clamors of the Hippodrome to march against the
Barbarians, whom he had invited into his dominions; and the citizens, who
are always brave at a distance from any real danger, declared, with
confidence, that, if they were supplied with arms, they alone would
undertake to deliver the province from the ravages of an insulting foe. 88
The vain reproaches of an ignorant multitude hastened the downfall of the
Roman empire; they provoked the desperate rashness of Valens; who did not
find, either in his reputation or in his mind, any motives to support with
firmness the public contempt. He was soon persuaded, by the successful
achievements of his lieutenants, to despise the power of the Goths, who,
by the diligence of Fritigern, were now collected in the neighborhood of
Hadrianople. The march of the Taifalæ had been intercepted by the valiant
Frigeric: the king of those licentious Barbarians was slain in battle; and
the suppliant captives were sent into distant exile to cultivate the lands
of Italy, which were assigned for their settlement in the vacant
territories of Modena and Parma. 89 The exploits of
Sebastian, 90 who was recently engaged in the service of
Valens, and promoted to the rank of master-general of the infantry, were
still more honorable to himself, and useful to the republic. He obtained
the permission of selecting three hundred soldiers from each of the
legions; and this separate detachment soon acquired the spirit of
discipline, and the exercise of arms, which were almost forgotten under
the reign of Valens. By the vigor and conduct of Sebastian, a large body
of the Goths were surprised in their camp; and the immense spoil, which
was recovered from their hands, filled the city of Hadrianople, and the
adjacent plain. The splendid narratives, which the general transmitted of
his own exploits, alarmed the Imperial court by the appearance of superior
merit; and though he cautiously insisted on the difficulties of the Gothic
war, his valor was praised, his advice was rejected; and Valens, who
listened with pride and pleasure to the flattering suggestions of the
eunuchs of the palace, was impatient to seize the glory of an easy and
assured conquest. His army was strengthened by a numerous reenforcement of
veterans; and his march from Constantinople to Hadrianople was conducted
with so much military skill, that he prevented the activity of the
Barbarians, who designed to occupy the intermediate defiles, and to
intercept either the troops themselves, or their convoys of provisions.
The camp of Valens, which he pitched under the walls of Hadrianople, was
fortified, according to the practice of the Romans, with a ditch and
rampart; and a most important council was summoned, to decide the fate of
the emperor and of the empire. The party of reason and of delay was
strenuously maintained by Victor, who had corrected, by the lessons of
experience, the native fierceness of the Sarmatian character; while
Sebastian, with the flexible and obsequious eloquence of a courtier,
represented every precaution, and every measure, that implied a doubt of
immediate victory, as unworthy of the courage and majesty of their
invincible monarch. The ruin of Valens was precipitated by the deceitful
arts of Fritigern, and the prudent admonitions of the emperor of the West.
The advantages of negotiating in the midst of war were perfectly
understood by the general of the Barbarians; and a Christian ecclesiastic
was despatched, as the holy minister of peace, to penetrate, and to
perplex, the councils of the enemy. The misfortunes, as well as the
provocations, of the Gothic nation, were forcibly and truly described by
their ambassador; who protested, in the name of Fritigern, that he was
still disposed to lay down his arms, or to employ them only in the defence
of the empire; if he could secure for his wandering countrymen a tranquil
settlement on the waste lands of Thrace, and a sufficient allowance of
corn and cattle. But he added, in a whisper of confidential friendship,
that the exasperated Barbarians were averse to these reasonable
conditions; and that Fritigern was doubtful whether he could accomplish
the conclusion of the treaty, unless he found himself supported by the
presence and terrors of an Imperial army. About the same time, Count
Richomer returned from the West to announce the defeat and submission of
the Alemanni, to inform Valens that his nephew advanced by rapid marches
at the head of the veteran and victorious legions of Gaul, and to request,
in the name of Gratian and of the republic, that every dangerous and
decisive measure might be suspended, till the junction of the two emperors
should insure the success of the Gothic war. But the feeble sovereign of
the East was actuated only by the fatal illusions of pride and jealousy.
He disdained the importunate advice; he rejected the humiliating aid; he
secretly compared the ignominious, at least the inglorious, period of his
own reign, with the fame of a beardless youth; and Valens rushed into the
field, to erect his imaginary trophy, before the diligence of his
colleague could usurp any share of the triumphs of the day.
On the ninth of August, a day which has deserved to be marked among the
most inauspicious of the Roman Calendar, 91 the emperor Valens,
leaving, under a strong guard, his baggage and military treasure, marched
from Hadrianople to attack the Goths, who were encamped about twelve miles
from the city. 92 By some mistake of the orders, or some
ignorance of the ground, the right wing, or column of cavalry arrived in
sight of the enemy, whilst the left was still at a considerable distance;
the soldiers were compelled, in the sultry heat of summer, to precipitate
their pace; and the line of battle was formed with tedious confusion and
irregular delay. The Gothic cavalry had been detached to forage in the
adjacent country; and Fritigern still continued to practise his customary
arts. He despatched messengers of peace, made proposals, required
hostages, and wasted the hours, till the Romans, exposed without shelter
to the burning rays of the sun, were exhausted by thirst, hunger, and
intolerable fatigue. The emperor was persuaded to send an ambassador to
the Gothic camp; the zeal of Richomer, who alone had courage to accept the
dangerous commission, was applauded; and the count of the domestics,
adorned with the splendid ensigns of his dignity, had proceeded some way
in the space between the two armies, when he was suddenly recalled by the
alarm of battle. The hasty and imprudent attack was made by Bacurius the
Iberian, who commanded a body of archers and targeteers; and as they
advanced with rashness, they retreated with loss and disgrace. In the same
moment, the flying squadrons of Alatheus and Saphrax, whose return was
anxiously expected by the general of the Goths, descended like a whirlwind
from the hills, swept across the plain, and added new terrors to the
tumultuous, but irresistible charge of the Barbarian host. The event of
the battle of Hadrianople, so fatal to Valens and to the empire, may be
described in a few words: the Roman cavalry fled; the infantry was
abandoned, surrounded, and cut in pieces. The most skilful evolutions, the
firmest courage, are scarcely sufficient to extricate a body of foot,
encompassed, on an open plain, by superior numbers of horse; but the
troops of Valens, oppressed by the weight of the enemy and their own
fears, were crowded into a narrow space, where it was impossible for them
to extend their ranks, or even to use, with effect, their swords and
javelins. In the midst of tumult, of slaughter, and of dismay, the
emperor, deserted by his guards and wounded, as it was supposed, with an
arrow, sought protection among the Lancearii and the Mattiarii, who still
maintained their ground with some appearance of order and firmness. His
faithful generals, Trajan and Victor, who perceived his danger, loudly
exclaimed that all was lost, unless the person of the emperor could be
saved. Some troops, animated by their exhortation, advanced to his relief:
they found only a bloody spot, covered with a heap of broken arms and
mangled bodies, without being able to discover their unfortunate prince,
either among the living or the dead. Their search could not indeed be
successful, if there is any truth in the circumstances with which some
historians have related the death of the emperor.
By the care of his attendants, Valens was removed from the field of battle
to a neighboring cottage, where they attempted to dress his wound, and to
provide for his future safety. But this humble retreat was instantly
surrounded by the enemy: they tried to force the door, they were provoked
by a discharge of arrows from the roof, till at length, impatient of
delay, they set fire to a pile of dry magots, and consumed the cottage
with the Roman emperor and his train. Valens perished in the flames; and a
youth, who dropped from the window, alone escaped, to attest the
melancholy tale, and to inform the Goths of the inestimable prize which
they had lost by their own rashness. A great number of brave and
distinguished officers perished in the battle of Hadrianople, which
equalled in the actual loss, and far surpassed in the fatal consequences,
the misfortune which Rome had formerly sustained in the fields of Cannæ.
93
Two master-generals of the cavalry and infantry, two great officers of the
palace, and thirty-five tribunes, were found among the slain; and the
death of Sebastian might satisfy the world, that he was the victim, as
well as the author, of the public calamity. Above two thirds of the Roman
army were destroyed: and the darkness of the night was esteemed a very
favorable circumstance, as it served to conceal the flight of the
multitude, and to protect the more orderly retreat of Victor and Richomer,
who alone, amidst the general consternation, maintained the advantage of
calm courage and regular discipline. 94
While the impressions of grief and terror were still recent in the minds
of men, the most celebrated rhetorician of the age composed the funeral
oration of a vanquished army, and of an unpopular prince, whose throne was
already occupied by a stranger. “There are not wanting,” says the candid
Libanius, “those who arraign the prudence of the emperor, or who impute
the public misfortune to the want of courage and discipline in the troops.
For my own part, I reverence the memory of their former exploits: I
reverence the glorious death, which they bravely received, standing, and
fighting in their ranks: I reverence the field of battle, stained with
their blood, and the blood of the Barbarians. Those honorable marks have
been already washed away by the rains; but the lofty monuments of their
bones, the bones of generals, of centurions, and of valiant warriors,
claim a longer period of duration. The king himself fought and fell in the
foremost ranks of the battle. His attendants presented him with the
fleetest horses of the Imperial stable, that would soon have carried him
beyond the pursuit of the enemy. They vainly pressed him to reserve his
important life for the future service of the republic. He still declared
that he was unworthy to survive so many of the bravest and most faithful
of his subjects; and the monarch was nobly buried under a mountain of the
slain. Let none, therefore, presume to ascribe the victory of the
Barbarians to the fear, the weakness, or the imprudence, of the Roman
troops. The chiefs and the soldiers were animated by the virtue of their
ancestors, whom they equalled in discipline and the arts of war. Their
generous emulation was supported by the love of glory, which prompted them
to contend at the same time with heat and thirst, with fire and the sword;
and cheerfully to embrace an honorable death, as their refuge against
flight and infamy. The indignation of the gods has been the only cause of
the success of our enemies.” The truth of history may disclaim some parts
of this panegyric, which cannot strictly be reconciled with the character
of Valens, or the circumstances of the battle: but the fairest
commendation is due to the eloquence, and still more to the generosity, of
the sophist of Antioch. 95
The pride of the Goths was elated by this memorable victory; but their
avarice was disappointed by the mortifying discovery, that the richest
part of the Imperial spoil had been within the walls of Hadrianople. They
hastened to possess the reward of their valor; but they were encountered
by the remains of a vanquished army, with an intrepid resolution, which
was the effect of their despair, and the only hope of their safety. The
walls of the city, and the ramparts of the adjacent camp, were lined with
military engines, that threw stones of an enormous weight; and astonished
the ignorant Barbarians by the noise, and velocity, still more than by the
real effects, of the discharge. The soldiers, the citizens, the
provincials, the domestics of the palace, were united in the danger, and
in the defence: the furious assault of the Goths was repulsed; their
secret arts of treachery and treason were discovered; and, after an
obstinate conflict of many hours, they retired to their tents; convinced,
by experience, that it would be far more advisable to observe the treaty,
which their sagacious leader had tacitly stipulated with the
fortifications of great and populous cities. After the hasty and impolitic
massacre of three hundred deserters, an act of justice extremely useful to
the discipline of the Roman armies, the Goths indignantly raised the siege
of Hadrianople. The scene of war and tumult was instantly converted into a
silent solitude: the multitude suddenly disappeared; the secret paths of
the woods and mountains were marked with the footsteps of the trembling
fugitives, who sought a refuge in the distant cities of Illyricum and
Macedonia; and the faithful officers of the household, and the treasury,
cautiously proceeded in search of the emperor, of whose death they were
still ignorant. The tide of the Gothic inundation rolled from the walls of
Hadrianople to the suburbs of Constantinople. The Barbarians were
surprised with the splendid appearance of the capital of the East, the
height and extent of the walls, the myriads of wealthy and affrighted
citizens who crowded the ramparts, and the various prospect of the sea and
land. While they gazed with hopeless desire on the inaccessible beauties
of Constantinople, a sally was made from one of the gates by a party of
Saracens, 96 who had been fortunately engaged in the
service of Valens. The cavalry of Scythia was forced to yield to the
admirable swiftness and spirit of the Arabian horses: their riders were
skilled in the evolutions of irregular war; and the Northern Barbarians
were astonished and dismayed, by the inhuman ferocity of the Barbarians of
the South.
A Gothic soldier was slain by the dagger of an Arab; and the hairy, naked
savage, applying his lips to the wound, expressed a horrid delight, while
he sucked the blood of his vanquished enemy. 97 The army of the
Goths, laden with the spoils of the wealthy suburbs and the adjacent
territory, slowly moved, from the Bosphorus, to the mountains which form
the western boundary of Thrace. The important pass of Succi was betrayed
by the fear, or the misconduct, of Maurus; and the Barbarians, who no
longer had any resistance to apprehend from the scattered and vanquished
troops of the East, spread themselves over the face of a fertile and
cultivated country, as far as the confines of Italy and the Hadriatic Sea.
98
The Romans, who so coolly, and so concisely, mention the acts of justice
which were exercised by the legions, 99 reserve their
compassion, and their eloquence, for their own sufferings, when the
provinces were invaded, and desolated, by the arms of the successful
Barbarians. The simple circumstantial narrative (did such a narrative
exist) of the ruin of a single town, of the misfortunes of a single
family, 100 might exhibit an interesting and
instructive picture of human manners: but the tedious repetition of vague
and declamatory complaints would fatigue the attention of the most patient
reader. The same censure may be applied, though not perhaps in an equal
degree, to the profane, and the ecclesiastical, writers of this unhappy
period; that their minds were inflamed by popular and religious animosity;
and that the true size and color of every object is falsified by the
exaggerations of their corrupt eloquence. The vehement Jerom 101
might justly deplore the calamities inflicted by the Goths, and their
barbarous allies, on his native country of Pannonia, and the wide extent
of the provinces, from the walls of Constantinople to the foot of the
Julian Alps; the rapes, the massacres, the conflagrations; and, above all,
the profanation of the churches, that were turned into stables, and the
contemptuous treatment of the relics of holy martyrs. But the Saint is
surely transported beyond the limits of nature and history, when he
affirms, “that, in those desert countries, nothing was left except the sky
and the earth; that, after the destruction of the cities, and the
extirpation of the human race, the land was overgrown with thick forests
and inextricable brambles; and that the universal desolation, announced by
the prophet Zephaniah, was accomplished, in the scarcity of the beasts,
the birds, and even of the fish.” These complaints were pronounced about
twenty years after the death of Valens; and the Illyrian provinces, which
were constantly exposed to the invasion and passage of the Barbarians,
still continued, after a calamitous period of ten centuries, to supply new
materials for rapine and destruction. Could it even be supposed, that a
large tract of country had been left without cultivation and without
inhabitants, the consequences might not have been so fatal to the inferior
productions of animated nature. The useful and feeble animals, which are
nourished by the hand of man, might suffer and perish, if they were
deprived of his protection; but the beasts of the forest, his enemies or
his victims, would multiply in the free and undisturbed possession of
their solitary domain. The various tribes that people the air, or the
waters, are still less connected with the fate of the human species; and
it is highly probable that the fish of the Danube would have felt more
terror and distress, from the approach of a voracious pike, than from the
hostile inroad of a Gothic army.
Chapter XXVI: Progress of The Huns.—Part V.
Whatever may have been the just measure of the calamities of Europe, there
was reason to fear that the same calamities would soon extend to the
peaceful countries of Asia. The sons of the Goths had been judiciously
distributed through the cities of the East; and the arts of education were
employed to polish, and subdue, the native fierceness of their temper. In
the space of about twelve years, their numbers had continually increased;
and the children, who, in the first emigration, were sent over the
Hellespont, had attained, with rapid growth, the strength and spirit of
perfect manhood. 102 It was impossible to conceal from their
knowledge the events of the Gothic war; and, as those daring youths had
not studied the language of dissimulation, they betrayed their wish, their
desire, perhaps their intention, to emulate the glorious example of their
fathers. The danger of the times seemed to justify the jealous suspicions
of the provincials; and these suspicions were admitted as unquestionable
evidence, that the Goths of Asia had formed a secret and dangerous
conspiracy against the public safety. The death of Valens had left the
East without a sovereign; and Julius, who filled the important station of
master-general of the troops, with a high reputation of diligence and
ability, thought it his duty to consult the senate of Constantinople;
which he considered, during the vacancy of the throne, as the
representative council of the nation. As soon as he had obtained the
discretionary power of acting as he should judge most expedient for the
good of the republic, he assembled the principal officers, and privately
concerted effectual measures for the execution of his bloody design. An
order was immediately promulgated, that, on a stated day, the Gothic youth
should assemble in the capital cities of their respective provinces; and,
as a report was industriously circulated, that they were summoned to
receive a liberal gift of lands and money, the pleasing hope allayed the
fury of their resentment, and, perhaps, suspended the motions of the
conspiracy. On the appointed day, the unarmed crowd of the Gothic youth
was carefully collected in the square or Forum; the streets and avenues
were occupied by the Roman troops, and the roofs of the houses were
covered with archers and slingers. At the same hour, in all the cities of
the East, the signal was given of indiscriminate slaughter; and the
provinces of Asia were delivered by the cruel prudence of Julius, from a
domestic enemy, who, in a few months, might have carried fire and sword
from the Hellespont to the Euphrates. 103 The urgent
consideration of the public safety may undoubtedly authorize the violation
of every positive law. How far that, or any other, consideration may
operate to dissolve the natural obligations of humanity and justice, is a
doctrine of which I still desire to remain ignorant.
The emperor Gratian was far advanced on his march towards the plains of
Hadrianople, when he was informed, at first by the confused voice of fame,
and afterwards by the more accurate reports of Victor and Richomer, that
his impatient colleague had been slain in battle, and that two thirds of
the Roman army were exterminated by the sword of the victorious Goths.
Whatever resentment the rash and jealous vanity of his uncle might
deserve, the resentment of a generous mind is easily subdued by the softer
emotions of grief and compassion; and even the sense of pity was soon lost
in the serious and alarming consideration of the state of the republic.
Gratian was too late to assist, he was too weak to revenge, his
unfortunate colleague; and the valiant and modest youth felt himself
unequal to the support of a sinking world. A formidable tempest of the
Barbarians of Germany seemed ready to burst over the provinces of Gaul;
and the mind of Gratian was oppressed and distracted by the administration
of the Western empire. In this important crisis, the government of the
East, and the conduct of the Gothic war, required the undivided attention
of a hero and a statesman. A subject invested with such ample command
would not long have preserved his fidelity to a distant benefactor; and
the Imperial council embraced the wise and manly resolution of conferring
an obligation, rather than of yielding to an insult. It was the wish of
Gratian to bestow the purple as the reward of virtue; but, at the age of
nineteen, it is not easy for a prince, educated in the supreme rank, to
understand the true characters of his ministers and generals. He attempted
to weigh, with an impartial hand, their various merits and defects; and,
whilst he checked the rash confidence of ambition, he distrusted the
cautious wisdom which despaired of the republic. As each moment of delay
diminished something of the power and resources of the future sovereign of
the East, the situation of the times would not allow a tedious debate. The
choice of Gratian was soon declared in favor of an exile, whose father,
only three years before, had suffered, under the sanction of his
authority, an unjust and ignominious death. The great Theodosius, a name
celebrated in history, and dear to the Catholic church, 104
was summoned to the Imperial court, which had gradually retreated from the
confines of Thrace to the more secure station of Sirmium. Five months
after the death of Valens, the emperor Gratian produced before the
assembled troops his colleague and their master; who, after a modest,
perhaps a sincere, resistance, was compelled to accept, amidst the general
acclamations, the diadem, the purple, and the equal title of Augustus. 105
The provinces of Thrace, Asia, and Egypt, over which Valens had reigned,
were resigned to the administration of the new emperor; but, as he was
specially intrusted with the conduct of the Gothic war, the Illyrian
præfecture was dismembered; and the two great dioceses of Dacia and
Macedonia were added to the dominions of the Eastern empire. 106
The same province, and perhaps the same city, 107 which had given to
the throne the virtues of Trajan, and the talents of Hadrian, was the
orignal seat of another family of Spaniards, who, in a less fortunate age,
possessed, near fourscore years, the declining empire of Rome. 108
They emerged from the obscurity of municipal honors by the active spirit
of the elder Theodosius, a general whose exploits in Britain and Africa
have formed one of the most splendid parts of the annals of Valentinian.
The son of that general, who likewise bore the name of Theodosius, was
educated, by skilful preceptors, in the liberal studies of youth; but he
was instructed in the art of war by the tender care and severe discipline
of his father. 109 Under the standard of such a leader, young
Theodosius sought glory and knowledge, in the most distant scenes of
military action; inured his constitution to the difference of seasons and
climates; distinguished his valor by sea and land; and observed the
various warfare of the Scots, the Saxons, and the Moors. His own merit,
and the recommendation of the conqueror of Africa, soon raised him to a
separate command; and, in the station of Duke of Mæsia, he vanquished an
army of Sarmatians; saved the province; deserved the love of the soldiers;
and provoked the envy of the court. 110 His rising
fortunes were soon blasted by the disgrace and execution of his
illustrious father; and Theodosius obtained, as a favor, the permission of
retiring to a private life in his native province of Spain. He displayed a
firm and temperate character in the ease with which he adapted himself to
this new situation. His time was almost equally divided between the town
and country; the spirit, which had animated his public conduct, was shown
in the active and affectionate performance of every social duty; and the
diligence of the soldier was profitably converted to the improvement of
his ample patrimony, 111 which lay between Valladolid and Segovia,
in the midst of a fruitful district, still famous for a most exquisite
breed of sheep. 112 From the innocent, but humble labors of his
farm, Theodosius was transported, in less than four months, to the throne
of the Eastern empire; and the whole period of the history of the world
will not perhaps afford a similar example, of an elevation at the same
time so pure and so honorable. The princes who peaceably inherit the
sceptre of their fathers, claim and enjoy a legal right, the more secure
as it is absolutely distinct from the merits of their personal characters.
The subjects, who, in a monarchy, or a popular state, acquire the
possession of supreme power, may have raised themselves, by the
superiority either of genius or virtue, above the heads of their equals;
but their virtue is seldom exempt from ambition; and the cause of the
successful candidate is frequently stained by the guilt of conspiracy, or
civil war. Even in those governments which allow the reigning monarch to
declare a colleague or a successor, his partial choice, which may be
influenced by the blindest passions, is often directed to an unworthy
object But the most suspicious malignity cannot ascribe to Theodosius, in
his obscure solitude of Caucha, the arts, the desires, or even the hopes,
of an ambitious statesman; and the name of the Exile would long since have
been forgotten, if his genuine and distinguished virtues had not left a
deep impression in the Imperial court. During the season of prosperity, he
had been neglected; but, in the public distress, his superior merit was
universally felt and acknowledged. What confidence must have been reposed
in his integrity, since Gratian could trust, that a pious son would
forgive, for the sake of the republic, the murder of his father! What
expectations must have been formed of his abilities to encourage the hope,
that a single man could save, and restore, the empire of the East!
Theodosius was invested with the purple in the thirty-third year of his
age. The vulgar gazed with admiration on the manly beauty of his face, and
the graceful majesty of his person, which they were pleased to compare
with the pictures and medals of the emperor Trajan; whilst intelligent
observers discovered, in the qualities of his heart and understanding, a
more important resemblance to the best and greatest of the Roman princes.
It is not without the most sincere regret, that I must now take leave of
an accurate and faithful guide, who has composed the history of his own
times, without indulging the prejudices and passions, which usually affect
the mind of a contemporary. Ammianus Marcellinus, who terminates his
useful work with the defeat and death of Valens, recommends the more
glorious subject of the ensuing reign to the youthful vigor and eloquence
of the rising generation. 113 The rising
generation was not disposed to accept his advice or to imitate his
example; 114 and, in the study of the reign of
Theodosius, we are reduced to illustrate the partial narrative of Zosimus,
by the obscure hints of fragments and chronicles, by the figurative style
of poetry or panegyric, and by the precarious assistance of the
ecclesiastical writers, who, in the heat of religious faction, are apt to
despise the profane virtues of sincerity and moderation. Conscious of
these disadvantages, which will continue to involve a considerable portion
of the decline and fall of the Roman empire, I shall proceed with doubtful
and timorous steps. Yet I may boldly pronounce, that the battle of
Hadrianople was never revenged by any signal or decisive victory of
Theodosius over the Barbarians: and the expressive silence of his venal
orators may be confirmed by the observation of the condition and
circumstances of the times. The fabric of a mighty state, which has been
reared by the labors of successive ages, could not be overturned by the
misfortune of a single day, if the fatal power of the imagination did not
exaggerate the real measure of the calamity. The loss of forty thousand
Romans, who fell in the plains of Hadrianople, might have been soon
recruited in the populous provinces of the East, which contained so many
millions of inhabitants. The courage of a soldier is found to be the
cheapest, and most common, quality of human nature; and sufficient skill
to encounter an undisciplined foe might have been speedily taught by the
care of the surviving centurions. If the Barbarians were mounted on the
horses, and equipped with the armor, of their vanquished enemies, the
numerous studs of Cappadocia and Spain would have supplied new squadrons
of cavalry; the thirty-four arsenals of the empire were plentifully stored
with magazines of offensive and defensive arms: and the wealth of Asia
might still have yielded an ample fund for the expenses of the war. But
the effects which were produced by the battle of Hadrianople on the minds
of the Barbarians and of the Romans, extended the victory of the former,
and the defeat of the latter, far beyond the limits of a single day. A
Gothic chief was heard to declare, with insolent moderation, that, for his
own part, he was fatigued with slaughter: but that he was astonished how a
people, who fled before him like a flock of sheep, could still presume to
dispute the possession of their treasures and provinces. 115
The same terrors which the name of the Huns had spread among the Gothic
tribes, were inspired, by the formidable name of the Goths, among the
subjects and soldiers of the Roman empire. 116 If Theodosius,
hastily collecting his scattered forces, had led them into the field to
encounter a victorious enemy, his army would have been vanquished by their
own fears; and his rashness could not have been excused by the chance of
success. But the great Theodosius, an epithet which he honorably deserved
on this momentous occasion, conducted himself as the firm and faithful
guardian of the republic. He fixed his head-quarters at Thessalonica, the
capital of the Macedonian diocese; 117 from whence he
could watch the irregular motions of the Barbarians, and direct the
operations of his lieutenants, from the gates of Constantinople to the
shores of the Hadriatic. The fortifications and garrisons of the cities
were strengthened; and the troops, among whom a sense of order and
discipline was revived, were insensibly emboldened by the confidence of
their own safety. From these secure stations, they were encouraged to make
frequent sallies on the Barbarians, who infested the adjacent country;
and, as they were seldom allowed to engage, without some decisive
superiority, either of ground or of numbers, their enterprises were, for
the most part, successful; and they were soon convinced, by their own
experience, of the possibility of vanquishing their invincible enemies.
The detachments of these separate garrisons were generally united into
small armies; the same cautious measures were pursued, according to an
extensive and well-concerted plan of operations; the events of each day
added strength and spirit to the Roman arms; and the artful diligence of
the emperor, who circulated the most favorable reports of the success of
the war, contributed to subdue the pride of the Barbarians, and to animate
the hopes and courage of his subjects. If, instead of this faint and
imperfect outline, we could accurately represent the counsels and actions
of Theodosius, in four successive campaigns, there is reason to believe,
that his consummate skill would deserve the applause of every military
reader. The republic had formerly been saved by the delays of Fabius; and,
while the splendid trophies of Scipio, in the field of Zama, attract the
eyes of posterity, the camps and marches of the dictator among the hills
of the Campania, may claim a juster proportion of the solid and
independent fame, which the general is not compelled to share, either with
fortune or with his troops. Such was likewise the merit of Theodosius; and
the infirmities of his body, which most unseasonably languished under a
long and dangerous disease, could not oppress the vigor of his mind, or
divert his attention from the public service. 118
The deliverance and peace of the Roman provinces 119 was the work of
prudence, rather than of valor: the prudence of Theodosius was seconded by
fortune: and the emperor never failed to seize, and to improve, every
favorable circumstance. As long as the superior genius of Fritigern
preserved the union, and directed the motions of the Barbarians, their
power was not inadequate to the conquest of a great empire. The death of
that hero, the predecessor and master of the renowned Alaric, relieved an
impatient multitude from the intolerable yoke of discipline and
discretion. The Barbarians, who had been restrained by his authority,
abandoned themselves to the dictates of their passions; and their passions
were seldom uniform or consistent. An army of conquerors was broken into
many disorderly bands of savage robbers; and their blind and irregular
fury was not less pernicious to themselves, than to their enemies. Their
mischievous disposition was shown in the destruction of every object which
they wanted strength to remove, or taste to enjoy; and they often
consumed, with improvident rage, the harvests, or the granaries, which
soon afterwards became necessary for their own subsistence. A spirit of
discord arose among the independent tribes and nations, which had been
united only by the bands of a loose and voluntary alliance. The troops of
the Huns and the Alani would naturally upbraid the flight of the Goths;
who were not disposed to use with moderation the advantages of their
fortune; the ancient jealousy of the Ostrogoths and the Visigoths could
not long be suspended; and the haughty chiefs still remembered the insults
and injuries, which they had reciprocally offered, or sustained, while the
nation was seated in the countries beyond the Danube. The progress of
domestic faction abated the more diffusive sentiment of national
animosity; and the officers of Theodosius were instructed to purchase,
with liberal gifts and promises, the retreat or service of the
discontented party. The acquisition of Modar, a prince of the royal blood
of the Amali, gave a bold and faithful champion to the cause of Rome. The
illustrious deserter soon obtained the rank of master-general, with an
important command; surprised an army of his countrymen, who were immersed
in wine and sleep; and, after a cruel slaughter of the astonished Goths,
returned with an immense spoil, and four thousand wagons, to the Imperial
camp. 120 In the hands of a skilful politician, the
most different means may be successfully applied to the same ends; and the
peace of the empire, which had been forwarded by the divisions, was
accomplished by the reunion, of the Gothic nation. Athanaric, who had been
a patient spectator of these extraordinary events, was at length driven,
by the chance of arms, from the dark recesses of the woods of Caucaland.
He no longer hesitated to pass the Danube; and a very considerable part of
the subjects of Fritigern, who already felt the inconveniences of anarchy,
were easily persuaded to acknowledge for their king a Gothic Judge, whose
birth they respected, and whose abilities they had frequently experienced.
But age had chilled the daring spirit of Athanaric; and, instead of
leading his people to the field of battle and victory, he wisely listened
to the fair proposal of an honorable and advantageous treaty. Theodosius,
who was acquainted with the merit and power of his new ally, condescended
to meet him at the distance of several miles from Constantinople; and
entertained him in the Imperial city, with the confidence of a friend, and
the magnificence of a monarch. “The Barbarian prince observed, with
curious attention, the variety of objects which attracted his notice, and
at last broke out into a sincere and passionate exclamation of wonder. I
now behold (said he) what I never could believe, the glories of this
stupendous capital! And as he cast his eyes around, he viewed, and he
admired, the commanding situation of the city, the strength and beauty of
the walls and public edifices, the capacious harbor, crowded with
innumerable vessels, the perpetual concourse of distant nations, and the
arms and discipline of the troops. Indeed, (continued Athanaric,) the
emperor of the Romans is a god upon earth; and the presumptuous man, who
dares to lift his hand against him, is guilty of his own blood.” 121
The Gothic king did not long enjoy this splendid and honorable reception;
and, as temperance was not the virtue of his nation, it may justly be
suspected, that his mortal disease was contracted amidst the pleasures of
the Imperial banquets. But the policy of Theodosius derived more solid
benefit from the death, than he could have expected from the most faithful
services, of his ally. The funeral of Athanaric was performed with solemn
rites in the capital of the East; a stately monument was erected to his
memory; and his whole army, won by the liberal courtesy, and decent grief,
of Theodosius, enlisted under the standard of the Roman empire. 122
The submission of so great a body of the Visigoths was productive of the
most salutary consequences; and the mixed influence of force, of reason,
and of corruption, became every day more powerful, and more extensive.
Each independent chieftain hastened to obtain a separate treaty, from the
apprehension that an obstinate delay might expose him, alone and
unprotected, to the revenge, or justice, of the conqueror. The general, or
rather the final, capitulation of the Goths, may be dated four years, one
month, and twenty-five days, after the defeat and death of the emperor
Valens. 123
The provinces of the Danube had been already relieved from the oppressive
weight of the Gruthungi, or Ostrogoths, by the voluntary retreat of
Alatheus and Saphrax, whose restless spirit had prompted them to seek new
scenes of rapine and glory. Their destructive course was pointed towards
the West; but we must be satisfied with a very obscure and imperfect
knowledge of their various adventures. The Ostrogoths impelled several of
the German tribes on the provinces of Gaul; concluded, and soon violated,
a treaty with the emperor Gratian; advanced into the unknown countries of
the North; and, after an interval of more than four years, returned, with
accumulated force, to the banks of the Lower Danube. Their troops were
recruited with the fiercest warriors of Germany and Scythia; and the
soldiers, or at least the historians, of the empire, no longer recognized
the name and countenances of their former enemies. 124
The general who commanded the military and naval powers of the Thracian
frontier, soon perceived that his superiority would be disadvantageous to
the public service; and that the Barbarians, awed by the presence of his
fleet and legions, would probably defer the passage of the river till the
approaching winter. The dexterity of the spies, whom he sent into the
Gothic camp, allured the Barbarians into a fatal snare. They were
persuaded that, by a bold attempt, they might surprise, in the silence and
darkness of the night, the sleeping army of the Romans; and the whole
multitude was hastily embarked in a fleet of three thousand canoes. 125
The bravest of the Ostrogoths led the van; the main body consisted of the
remainder of their subjects and soldiers; and the women and children
securely followed in the rear. One of the nights without a moon had been
selected for the execution of their design; and they had almost reached
the southern bank of the Danube, in the firm confidence that they should
find an easy landing and an unguarded camp. But the progress of the
Barbarians was suddenly stopped by an unexpected obstacle a triple line of
vessels, strongly connected with each other, and which formed an
impenetrable chain of two miles and a half along the river. While they
struggled to force their way in the unequal conflict, their right flank
was overwhelmed by the irresistible attack of a fleet of galleys, which
were urged down the stream by the united impulse of oars and of the tide.
The weight and velocity of those ships of war broke, and sunk, and
dispersed, the rude and feeble canoes of the Barbarians; their valor was
ineffectual; and Alatheus, the king, or general, of the Ostrogoths,
perished with his bravest troops, either by the sword of the Romans, or in
the waves of the Danube. The last division of this unfortunate fleet might
regain the opposite shore; but the distress and disorder of the multitude
rendered them alike incapable, either of action or counsel; and they soon
implored the clemency of the victorious enemy. On this occasion, as well
as on many others, it is a difficult task to reconcile the passions and
prejudices of the writers of the age of Theodosius. The partial and
malignant historian, who misrepresents every action of his reign, affirms,
that the emperor did not appear in the field of battle till the Barbarians
had been vanquished by the valor and conduct of his lieutenant Promotus.
126
The flattering poet, who celebrated, in the court of Honorius, the glory
of the father and of the son, ascribes the victory to the personal prowess
of Theodosius; and almost insinuates, that the king of the Ostrogoths was
slain by the hand of the emperor. 127 The truth of
history might perhaps be found in a just medium between these extreme and
contradictory assertions.
The original treaty which fixed the settlement of the Goths, ascertained
their privileges, and stipulated their obligations, would illustrate the
history of Theodosius and his successors. The series of their history has
imperfectly preserved the spirit and substance of this single agreement.
128
The ravages of war and tyranny had provided many large tracts of fertile
but uncultivated land for the use of those Barbarians who might not
disdain the practice of agriculture. A numerous colony of the Visigoths
was seated in Thrace; the remains of the Ostrogoths were planted in
Phrygia and Lydia; their immediate wants were supplied by a distribution
of corn and cattle; and their future industry was encouraged by an
exemption from tribute, during a certain term of years. The Barbarians
would have deserved to feel the cruel and perfidious policy of the
Imperial court, if they had suffered themselves to be dispersed through
the provinces. They required, and they obtained, the sole possession of
the villages and districts assigned for their residence; they still
cherished and propagated their native manners and language; asserted, in
the bosom of despotism, the freedom of their domestic government; and
acknowledged the sovereignty of the emperor, without submitting to the
inferior jurisdiction of the laws and magistrates of Rome. The hereditary
chiefs of the tribes and families were still permitted to command their
followers in peace and war; but the royal dignity was abolished; and the
generals of the Goths were appointed and removed at the pleasure of the
emperor. An army of forty thousand Goths was maintained for the perpetual
service of the empire of the East; and those haughty troops, who assumed
the title of Fæderati, or allies, were distinguished by their gold
collars, liberal pay, and licentious privileges. Their native courage was
improved by the use of arms and the knowledge of discipline; and, while
the republic was guarded, or threatened, by the doubtful sword of the
Barbarians, the last sparks of the military flame were finally
extinguished in the minds of the Romans. 129 Theodosius had the
address to persuade his allies, that the conditions of peace, which had
been extorted from him by prudence and necessity, were the voluntary
expressions of his sincere friendship for the Gothic nation. 130
A different mode of vindication or apology was opposed to the complaints
of the people; who loudly censured these shameful and dangerous
concessions. 131 The calamities of the war were painted in
the most lively colors; and the first symptoms of the return of order, of
plenty, and security, were diligently exaggerated. The advocates of
Theodosius could affirm, with some appearance of truth and reason, that it
was impossible to extirpate so many warlike tribes, who were rendered
desperate by the loss of their native country; and that the exhausted
provinces would be revived by a fresh supply of soldiers and husbandmen.
The Barbarians still wore an angry and hostile aspect; but the experience
of past times might encourage the hope, that they would acquire the habits
of industry and obedience; that their manners would be polished by time,
education, and the influence of Christianity; and that their posterity
would insensibly blend with the great body of the Roman people. 132
Notwithstanding these specious arguments, and these sanguine expectations,
it was apparent to every discerning eye, that the Goths would long remain
the enemies, and might soon become the conquerors of the Roman empire.
Their rude and insolent behavior expressed their contempt of the citizens
and provincials, whom they insulted with impunity. 133
To the zeal and valor of the Barbarians Theodosius was indebted for the
success of his arms: but their assistance was precarious; and they were
sometimes seduced, by a treacherous and inconstant disposition, to abandon
his standard, at the moment when their service was the most essential.
During the civil war against Maximus, a great number of Gothic deserters
retired into the morasses of Macedonia, wasted the adjacent provinces, and
obliged the intrepid monarch to expose his person, and exert his power, to
suppress the rising flame of rebellion. 134 The public
apprehensions were fortified by the strong suspicion, that these tumults
were not the effect of accidental passion, but the result of deep and
premeditated design. It was generally believed, that the Goths had signed
the treaty of peace with a hostile and insidious spirit; and that their
chiefs had previously bound themselves, by a solemn and secret oath, never
to keep faith with the Romans; to maintain the fairest show of loyalty and
friendship, and to watch the favorable moment of rapine, of conquest, and
of revenge. But as the minds of the Barbarians were not insensible to the
power of gratitude, several of the Gothic leaders sincerely devoted
themselves to the service of the empire, or, at least, of the emperor; the
whole nation was insensibly divided into two opposite factions, and much
sophistry was employed in conversation and dispute, to compare the
obligations of their first, and second, engagements. The Goths, who
considered themselves as the friends of peace, of justice, and of Rome,
were directed by the authority of Fravitta, a valiant and honorable youth,
distinguished above the rest of his countrymen by the politeness of his
manners, the liberality of his sentiments, and the mild virtues of social
life. But the more numerous faction adhered to the fierce and faithless
Priulf, 13411 who inflamed the passions, and asserted
the independence, of his warlike followers. On one of the solemn
festivals, when the chiefs of both parties were invited to the Imperial
table, they were insensibly heated by wine, till they forgot the usual
restraints of discretion and respect, and betrayed, in the presence of
Theodosius, the fatal secret of their domestic disputes. The emperor, who
had been the reluctant witness of this extraordinary controversy,
dissembled his fears and resentment, and soon dismissed the tumultuous
assembly. Fravitta, alarmed and exasperated by the insolence of his rival,
whose departure from the palace might have been the signal of a civil war,
boldly followed him; and, drawing his sword, laid Priulf dead at his feet.
Their companions flew to arms; and the faithful champion of Rome would
have been oppressed by superior numbers, if he had not been protected by
the seasonable interposition of the Imperial guards. 135
Such were the scenes of Barbaric rage, which disgraced the palace and
table of the Roman emperor; and, as the impatient Goths could only be
restrained by the firm and temperate character of Theodosius, the public
safety seemed to depend on the life and abilities of a single man. 136
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