Justina's controversy with Saint Ambrose seems to have been the one

point on which she had serious difficulty with her subjects, and this

appears to have affected only the people of Milan. Gibbon, in his

inimitable manner, thus describes the incident: "The government of Italy

and of the young emperor naturally devolved to his mother Justina, a

woman of beauty and spirit, but who, in the midst of an orthodox people,

had the misfortune of professing the Arian heresy, which she endeavored

to instil into the mind of her son. Justina was persuaded that a Roman

emperor might claim, in his own dominions, the public exercise of his

religion; and she proposed to the archbishop, as a moderate and

reasonable concession, that he should resign the use of a single church,

either in the city or suburbs of Milan. But the conduct of Ambrose was

governed by very different principles. The palaces of earth might indeed

belong to Cæsar, but the churches were the houses of God; and, within

the limits of his diocese, he himself, as the lawful successor of the

apostles, was the only minister of God. The privileges of Christianity,

temporal as well as spiritual, were confined to the true believers; and

the mind of Ambrose was satisfied that his own theological opinions were

the standard of truth and orthodoxy. The archbishop, who refused to hold

any conference or negotiation with the instruments of Satan, declared

with modest firmness his resolution to die a martyr rather than to yield

to the impious sacrilege; and Justina, who resented the refusal as an

act of insolence and rebellion, hastily determined to exert the imperial

prerogative of her son."

Under ordinary circumstances, in a like situation, it is very probable

that the bishop's reiterated desire for martyrdom would have been

gratified. But Ambrose was secure, owing to the intense orthodoxy of all

Justina's subjects. In an attack on religion, there was no one to carry

out her commands. "As she desired to perform her public devotions on the

approaching festival of Easter, Ambrose was ordered to appear before the

council. He obeyed the summons with the respect of a faithful subject,

but he was followed, without his consent, by an innumerable people: they

pressed, with impetuous zeal, against the gates of the palace; and the

affrighted ministers of Valentinian, instead of pronouncing a sentence

of exile on the archbishop of Milan, humbly requested that he would

interpose his authority, to protect the person of the emperor, and to

restore the tranquillity of the capital."

In the end the bishop prevailed. There are extant certain letters

written by the saint to his sister, Marcellina, in which he describes

the circumstances of this dispute with Justina. He recounts how soldiers

were sent to occupy the church which the empress desired for her own

heretical use, and how they fraternized with the Catholic people who

refused to give up the sacred building. The bishop asserts that in the

midst of all this tumult and public inharmony, he gave utterance only to

"freer groans." But there is evidence in bis own letters that Ambrose

took a more active and also a more effective course than mere pious

groaning; indeed, he showed a remarkable boldness of decision, as well

as astuteness, in his political methods. He met the occasion with a

sermon on the trials of Job, which could hardly have aroused pleasant

reflections in the mind of Justina. "But Job was tried by accumulated

tidings of evils, he was also tried by his wife, who said, 'Speak a word

against God and die.' You see what terrible things are of a sudden

stirred up, the Goths, armed men, the heathen.... You observe what was

commanded when the order was given: 'Surrender the Basilica!' that is,

speak a word against God and die.... So, then, we are prepared by the

imperial commands, but are strengthened by the words of Scripture, which

replies: 'Thou hast spoken as one of the foolish.' That temptation then

is no light one, for we know that those temptations are more severe

which arise through women. For even Adam was overthrown by Eve, whereby

it came to pass that he erred from the divine commandments.... Why

should I relate that Jezebel, also, persecuted Elijah after a

bloodthirsty fashion? Or that Herodias caused John the Baptist to be

slain?... Of women change follows on change, their hatreds alternate,

their falsehoods vary, elders assemble together, wrong done to the

emperor is made a pretence."

This homiletic punishment of the empress by the intrepid saint was

opportunely followed by the discovery of certain holy and potent relics.

By means of these, the sick were healed and the blind restored, and thus

the people were convinced that God was on their side. The empress

derided these marvels with an incredulity which would do credit to the

present time; but she was compelled to take the wise counsel of

Theodosius and surrender her purpose. She took her revenge, however, by

publishing a decree that the Arian worship should be lawful throughout

the dominions of her son, Valentinian II.

During this time, Maximus, the usurper of Gaul, had acted toward the

empress and her feeble son with apparent friendliness; but he had not in

reality set bounds to the range of his ambition. In 377, his first

hostile operations commenced. Justina was not prepared for warfare. She

fled with the emperor and her daughter, Galla, to Theodosius, the great

ruler of the East, who first married Galla, and then took up

successfully the cause of her mother and her brother. Of this marriage

was born Placidia whose strange adventures we shall shortly relate. It

is probable that Justina died during the war waged by Theodosius against

Maximus. Of her character nothing derogatory is recorded with the

exception of her heresy. It is hardly remarkable that, in an

ecclesiastical dispute, she should be unable to cope with the man who,

later, had the strength and the courage to close the door of the

cathedral in the face of the great Theodosius, after his crime at

Thessalonica.

Events so moved that, by the year 394, Theodosius had become the sole

ruler of the Empire; but four months later he died at Milan, leaving the

dominion of the East and the West to his sons Arcadius and Honorius

respectively. Honorius was of a weakly constitution, and too young to

take part in public matters. Flavius Stilicho, a Vandal, and the ablest

man both in court and in camp that those times produced, defended the

Empire in the attacks of the barbarians who poured over the Danube and

over the Rhine.

Stilicho had married the beautiful and accomplished Serena, the favorite

niece of Theodosius. Claudian, in a poem devoted to the praise of

Serena, has portrayed her excellences of mind and person as being of the

most attractive quality. To her devotion to her husband the modern

historian pays this tribute: "The arts of calumny might have been

successful, if the tender and vigilant Serena had not protected her

husband against his domestic foes, while he vanquished in the field the

enemies of the empire."

The daughter of Serena, whose name was Maria, was made the wife of

Honorius when that emperor was in his fourteenth year. Claudian wrote an

epithalamium and some fescennine verses for the occasion, after the

ancient manner; nothing else of this kind could ever have been quite so

ridiculously conventional, for, on the authority of Zosimus, we learn

that Maria died a virgin after she had been ten years a wife. The

debility of her husband's constitution rendered the continence, which

the ecclesiastic of that time so greatly admired, uncommonly easy.

Honorius sat on the Roman throne through a period of twenty-eight years,

with little more influence or effect upon the history of his time than

would have been exerted if his place had been filled by a wooden image.

In the meantime, those commotions had taken place in the interior of

Asia which were to result in the flooding and overthrowing of the Roman

Empire by hordes of migrating barbarians. The most formidable of these

were the Huns, a Mongol race which had roamed the steppes from time

immemorial. The Huns were the more terrible because of their extreme

ugliness. Their appearance was a fearful visitation for the women of the

civilized nations which they overran. These hardy and vicious savages

suddenly swarmed out from their own country, and, driving the Ostrogoths

before them, with devastating persistence rolled, a human wave, to the

westward. The Goths were between "the devil and the deep sea." But,

while the Huns were an irresistible force, the Romans were not an

immovable body. Steadily the Goths gained ground westward with the Huns

surging after them. Rome was doomed. The effeminating arts of

civilization prepared a prey for the necessities of virile barbarism. A

brave ruler like Theodosius, who was not of the enervated Roman race,

might stem the tide for a while; but the disintegration of the Empire

was as inevitable as is that of a pile of lumber when caught in the

flooding of a river.

In the year 402, Alaric the Goth for the first time broke into the

Western empire. He carried his conquering arms into Italy, spreading a

pathway of devastation and misery wherever he went. In modern times, it

is impossible to estimate the suffering which an invasion brought upon

the women of that fated country. The old and those deficient in personal

attractions were robbed and, as likely as not, murdered; the young and

the beautiful were outraged and enslaved. All this wretchedness and

more, the barbarians visited upon Rome; but Alaric's first exploit was

ended at Pollentia by the brave generalship of Stilicho, though the

goodwill of the barbarian was purchased by tribute. As soon as this

danger was, for the time, averted, a new and not less fearful invasion

spread over the Empire. Horde after horde of Vandals, Alani,

Burgundians, and Alemannians crossed the frontiers in search of plunder

and adventure. They, too, were held in check by the able minister; but

gratitude for public service rendered is never so potential as is envy

of the high position of the one giving it, and the sole defender of the

Empire fell a victim to political machinations at the precise moment

when the peril of Rome was greatest.

With Alaric pounding on the gates of the capital, the Romans, with the

consent of Honorius, murdered the only man in the world who had proved

himself the barbarian's match. Nor did they stop with the death of

Stilicho; as Gibbon says: "Perhaps in the person of Serena, the Romans

might have respected the niece of Theodosius, the aunt, nay, even the

adoptive mother of the reigning emperor; but they abhorred the widow of

Stilicho; and they listened with credulous passion to the tale of

calumny which accused her of maintaining a secret and criminal

correspondence with the Gothic invader. Actuated, or overawed, by the

same popular frenzy, the senate, without requiring any evidence of her

guilt, pronounced the sentence of her death. Serena was ignominiously

strangled; and the infatuated multitude were astonished to find that

this cruel act of injustice did not immediately produce the retreat of

the barbarians, and the deliverance of the city." One offence alleged

against Serena was that she had taken a necklace from the statue of

Vesta--it was then the fashion to clothe and adorn the statues, whether

in the interest of modesty or ostentation we cannot say.

The description which the great student of ancient history just now

quoted gives of the siege which Rome at that time endured is entirely in

keeping with our subject. "That unfortunate city gradually experienced

the distress of scarcity, and at length the horrid calamities of famine.

The daily allowance of three pounds of bread was reduced to one-half, to

one-third, to nothing.... The poorer citizens, who were unable to

purchase the necessaries of life, solicited the precarious charity of

the rich; and for a while the public misery was alleviated by the

humanity of Lasta, the widow of the emperor Gratian, who had fixed her

residence at Rome, and consecrated to the use of the indigent the

princely revenue which she annually received from the grateful

successors of her husband. But these private and temporary donatives

were insufficient to appease the hunger of a numerous people; and the

progress of famine invaded the marble palaces of the senators

themselves. The persons of both sexes, who had been educated in the

enjoyment of ease and luxury, discovered how little is requisite to

supply the demands of nature; and lavished their unavailing treasures of

gold and silver, to obtain the coarse and scanty sustenance which they

would formerly have rejected with disdain."

The outbreak of a pestilence soon added to the horrors of famine. Rome

again suffered the loss of thousands of her citizens through disease. If

the extent of this calamity was less than during the Great Plague, a

century and a half before, mourning was nevertheless almost universal.

Gibbon says, "many thousands of the inhabitants of Rome expired in their

houses or in the streets, for want of sustenance." But the almost

unending funeral procession of the former period was now lacking, as the

public sepulchres without the walls were within the circle of the

invading horde.

[Illustration 4: _FAMINE AND PESTILENCE After the painting by A.

Hirschl.

The outbreak of a pestilence soon added to the horrors of

famine. Rome again suffered the loss of thousands of her

citizens through disease. If the extent of this calamity was

less than during the Great Plague, a century and a half before,

mourning was nevertheless almost universal. Gibbon says, "many

thousands of the inhabitants of Rome expired in their houses or

in the streets, for want of sustenance." But the almost

unending funeral procession of the former period was now

lacking, as the public sepulchres without the walls were within

the circle of the invading horde._]

There was no relief. When ambassadors pleaded with Alaric for the great

multitude of the people against whom he was contending, his sole reply

was: "The thicker the hay, the easier it is mowed." When he stipulated

the ransom by which alone the city could be saved, and the ministers of

the senate humbly inquired what he purposed to leave to them, he

haughtily replied: "Your lives." The promise of five thousand pounds of

gold, thirty thousand pounds of silver, four thousand robes of silk,

three thousand pieces of fine scarlet cloth, and three thousand pounds

of pepper suspended for a time the vengeance which centuries of

oppression by Rome had accumulated in barbarian hearts.

The Roman courtiers, however, had neither the wisdom nor the honesty to

keep faith with the enemy whom they could not resist and on whose good

graces depended their safety. The patience of Alaric became exhausted.

He threw off all restraint, determining to take the fate and also the

resources of the Empire into his own hands. The year 410 saw the city,

which had for a millennium been the proud mistress of the world,

captured and at the mercy of the barbaric nations which for so many

centuries had furnished her wealth and slaves.

The conqueror declared that he waged war with the Romans and not with

the Apostles. Consequently, while he encouraged his soldiers to seize

the opportunity to enrich themselves and enjoy the fruits of victory, he

gave commands that the sanctity of the churches should be observed. The

ecclesiastical writers recount instances of seemingly remarkable

protection vouchsafed to the holy virgins, who were at the mercy of a

licentious soldiery. But there is every evidence that the customary fate

of the conquered in those savage times was abundantly meted out. It is

on record that many Christian women, in order to save themselves from

what they dreaded still more, sought death in the waters of the Tiber.

Others were more fortunate in being able to find protection in flight.

"The most illustrious of these fugitives," says Gibbon, "was the noble

and pious Proba, the widow of the prefect, Petronius. After the death of

her husband, the most powerful subject of Rome, she had remained at the

head of the Anician family, and successively supplied, from her private

fortune, the expense of the consulships of her three sons. When the city

was besieged and taken by the Goths, Proba supported, with Christian

resignation, the loss of immense riches; embarked in a small vessel,

from which she beheld, at sea, the flames of her burning palace, and

fled with her daughter, Læta, and her grand-daughter, the celebrated

virgin, Demetrias, to the coast of Africa. The benevolent profusion with

which the matron distributed the fruits or the price of her estates

contributed to alleviate the misfortunes of exile and captivity. But the

family of Proba herself was not exempt from the rapacious oppression of

Count Heraclian, who basely sold, in matrimonial prostitution, the

noblest maidens of Rome to the lust or avarice of Syrian merchants."

Alaric died shortly after his conquest, and the sceptre of the Gothic

kingdom passed to the hand of Adolphus, his brother-in-law. The latter

was a brave and able general, and seems to have possessed a nature not

discreditable to the time in which he lived. He proposed--the proposal

had all the effect of a command--a treaty of alliance with Honorius. It

practically amounted to annexation; but the Roman emperor was not in a

position to refuse any proposition which the Goth might see fit to make.

Nor could the Romans prevent Adolphus from strengthening his own

interest, as well as consulting his passion, in taking to wife the

half-sister of Honorius, Placidia, the daughter of Theodosius and Galla.

Placidia was just ripening into womanhood when Alaric first appeared

before Rome. She was taken as a hostage by the Gothic conqueror, and,

though reduced to the indignity of being a prisoner in a barbarian camp,

was treated with great consideration. Her beauty and her mental gifts

won the regard of Adolphus: and no sooner had he succeeded to the

kingship, than he requested of Honorius her hand. Such an alliance was

repugnant to the Romans, but, as in other matters, the request was only

a polite form of command. Placidia herself does not appear to have been

unwilling to accept the situation, and her nuptials were celebrated in

splendid state. The exploits of his army in Italy had enabled Adolphus

to present his bride with a magnificent wedding gift. The historian

Olympiodorus recounts that fifty handsome boys were employed to carry

this present. They came before her, carrying a bowl in each hand. One

bowl was filled with pieces of gold, the other with precious gems.

Adolphus always manifested a strong and tender affection for his wife;

nor did he ever lose an opportunity to honor her birth, seating her

above himself on state occasions.

This union, however, was destined to be short-lived. Adolphus was

stricken down by the hand of an assassin; his enemy was seated upon his

throne; and Placidia, being brutally and of purpose made one of a number

of common captives, was compelled to run for twelve miles before the

horse of the barbarian chieftain, the murderer of a husband whom she had

sincerely loved. Possibly it was her sufferings which aroused the

people; however, her persecutor was himself assassinated a few days

after his own murderous act; and Placidia was restored to her brother,

her ransom being six hundred thousand measures of wheat.

Placidia would have been willing, in accordance with the Christian

teaching of the time, to have lamented the loss of Adolphus in continual

widowhood. But another marriage was arranged for her, without her

consent: she was awarded as a prize to Constantius the general for his

services to Honorius. The results of this marriage were the birth of

Honoria and of Valentinian III., and, probably through the schemes of

Placidia, the promotion of her husband to the title of Augustus. But it

was not long before the princess again found herself a widow; and though

mischievous tongues magnified the caresses of childish affection on the

part of Honorius to signs of a fondness warmer than their kinship would

warrant, a quarrel between these two caused Placidia to go with her

children to Constantinople.

At the death of Honorius, Valentinian, though no more than six years of

age, was invested with the purple. But his mother was empress; the

policy of the Empire was directed by her; and for twenty-five years she

maintained her power. Gibbon speaks slightingly of her ability; but it

could not have been little, else how did she retain a rule which any

chance military adventurer might be tempted to seize? The historian

refers to Cassiodorus, who compares the regencies of Placidia and

Amalasuntha, to the disadvantage of the former.

The life of the Roman empress had been filled with more adventures and

changes of fortune than were wont to fall to the lot of woman, even in

those troublous times, but her story is less strange and is certainly

happier than that of her daughter, Honoria. There is in existence a

medal bearing the countenance of Honoria, and it is a fair face; it

bears the inscription Augusta. The young princess was invested with this

honor and rank in order that she might be above the aspirations of any

subject. As early as her sixteenth year, however, she chafed against the

isolation to which she was doomed. Denied legitimate love, she abandoned

herself to an illicit relationship with one of the domestic officers of

the palace, the fact of which was soon revealed by her pregnancy. She

was exiled by her mother to Constantinople, where she spent several

years in close restraint and great unhappiness. Attila the Hun was at

that time the particular barbarian who was harassing the Empire; and

suddenly he announced that he had received the betrothal of the princess

Honoria, and that he claimed her as his bride. Then her astonished

relatives learned that she really had been in correspondence with

Attila, and had besought him to claim her in marriage. It is probable

that a spirit of mischief actuated Honoria in this; for no educated

woman could in reality desire to be joined in marriage with the Hun,

unless it were from motives very different from love. The king had at

first disdained her advances, and was willing to act upon them only when

it suited the policy dictated by his ambition. But Placidia steadfastly

refused to countenance her daughter's procedure; and Honoria, being

first married to a man of mean extraction, in order that the question of

her matrimonial disposal might never again be a source of trouble, was

shut up in a close prison for the rest of her days. It is not unlikely

that her misfortunes arose rather from her position than her character.

That her life with Attila, had she attained her object, would have

proved more desirable than perpetual imprisonment is difficult to

believe. His respect for woman may be estimated from the fact that he

was a polygamist, and also from the fact that he watched his soldiers

amuse themselves with the awful death agonies of two hundred maidens,

whom they tore limb from limb with wild horses and crushed under the

wheels of heavy wagons.

Placidia died in the year 450. She was buried at Ravenna; and, with some

ambiguity of meaning, it is said that there her corpse, seated in a

chair of cypress wood, was preserved for ages. Her son perished by the

avenging hand of a senator whose wife he had perfidiously violated. He

was the last emperor of the house of Theodosius; and his mother was the

last woman, with a name in history, who was worthy of mention in the

records of the perishing Western Empire.

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