The city, and more especially the house of the prophet, beca

FAMOUS MEN

OF

ANCIENT TIMES.

BY

S. G. GOODRICH.

BOSTON:

THOMPSON, BROWN & COMPANY.

23 HAWLEY STREET.

PREFACE

The reader of these pages will perhaps remark, that the length of the

following sketches is hardly proportioned to the relative importance of

the several subjects, regarded in a merely historical point of view.

In explanation of this fact, the author begs leave to say, that, while

he intended to present a series of the great beacon lights that shine

along the shores of the past, and thus throw a continuous gleam over

the dusky sea of ancient history,—he had still other views. His chief

aim is moral culture; and the several articles have been abridged or

extended, as this controlling purpose might be subserved.

It may be proper to make one observation more. If the author has been

somewhat more chary of his eulogies upon the great men that figure in

the pages of Grecian and Roman story, than is the established custom,

he has only to plead in his vindication, that he has viewed them in the

same light—weighed them in the same balance—measured them by the same

standard, as he should have done the more familiar characters of our

own day, making due allowance for the times and circumstances in which

they acted. He has stated the results of such a mode of appreciation;

yet if the master spirits of antiquity are thus shorn of some portion

of their glory, the writer still believes that the interest they

excite is not lessened, and that the instruction they afford is not

diminished. On the contrary, it seems to him that the study of ancient

biography, if it be impartial and discriminating, is one of the most

entertaining and useful to which the mind can be applied.

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CONTENTS.

PAGE

MOHAMMED, 7

BELISARIUS, 25

ATTILA, 60

NERO, 68

SENECA, 74

VIRGIL, 83

CICERO, 95

JULIUS CÆSAR, 130

HANNIBAL, 145

ALEXANDER, 157

ARISTOTLE, 183

DEMOSTHENES, 197

APELLES, 209

DIOGENES, 213

PLATO, 218

SOCRATES, 229

ALCIBIADES, 244

DEMOCRITUS, 252

PERICLES, 256

ARISTIDES, 261

ÆSOP, 264

SOLON, 271

LYCURGUS, 277

HOMER, 282

CONFUCIUS, 291

[Illustration]

FAMOUS MEN OF ANCIENT TIMES

[Illustration]

MOHAMMED.

This individual, who has exercised a greater influence upon the

opinions of mankind than any other human being, save, perhaps, the

Chinese philosopher Confucius, was born at Mecca, in Arabia, A. D.

570. He was the only son of Abdallah, of the noble line of Hashem and

tribe of Koreish—descendants of Ishmael the reputed progenitor of the

Arabian race.

The Koreishites were not only a commercial people, and rich by virtue

of their operations in trade, but they were the hereditary guardians

of the Caaba, or Kaaba, a heathen temple at Mecca. The custody of this

sacred place, together with all the priestly offices, belonged to the

ancestors of Mohammed.

The Mohammedan authors have embellished the birth of the prophet with a

great variety of wonderful events, which are said to have attended his

introduction into the world. One of these is, that the Persian sacred

fire, kept in their temples, was at once extinguished over all Arabia,

accompanied by the diffusion of an unwonted and beautiful light. But

this and other marvels, we leave to the credulity of the prophet’s

followers.

Mohammed’s father died early, and his son came under the guardianship

of his uncle, Abu Taleb. He was a rich merchant, who was accustomed

to visit the fairs of Damascus, Bagdad, and Bassora—three great and

splendid cities, and Mohammed often accompanied him to these places.

In his twelfth year, Mohammed took part in an expedition against

the wandering tribes that molested the trading caravans. Thus, by

travelling from place to place, he acquired extensive knowledge, and,

by being engaged in warlike enterprise, his imagination became inflamed

with a love of adventure and military achievements. If we add to

this, that he had naturally a love of solitude, with a constitutional

tendency to religious abstraction; and if, moreover, we consider that

in his childhood he had been accustomed to behold the wild exercises,

the dark ceremonies, and hideous rites of the temple of Caaba—we

shall at once see the elements of character, and the educational

circumstances, which shaped out the extraordinary career of the founder

of Islamism.

It appears that Mohammed was remarkable for mental endowments, even in

his youth, for, in a religious conversation with a Nestorian monk, at

Basra, he showed such knowledge and talent, that the monk remarked to

his uncle, that great things might be expected of him. He was, however,

attentive to business, and so completely obtained the confidence of his

uncle, as a merchant, that he was recommended as a prudent and faithful

young man, to Khadijah, a rich widow, who stood in need of an agent to

transact her business and manage her affairs. In this capacity he was

received, and so well did he discharge his duties, that he not only won

the confidence of the widow, but finally obtained her hand in marriage.

This event took place when he was about twenty-five years old, Khadijah

being almost forty.

Mohammed was now rich, and, though he continued to carry on mercantile

business, he often retired to a cave, called Heva, near Mecca, where

he resided. He also performed several journeys to different parts

of Arabia and Syria, taking particular pains to gather religious

information, especially of learned Jews and Christians.

For some time, Mohammed, who lived happily with his wife, confided

to her his visits to the cave Heva, professing to enjoy interviews

with Heaven there, by means of dreams and trances, in which he met

and conversed with the angel Gabriel. There is little doubt that his

habits of religious retirement and gloomy reflection had unsettled

his judgment, and that he now gave himself up to the guidance of

an overwrought fancy. It is probable, therefore, that he believed

these visions to be of divine inspiration; else, why should he first

communicate them, as realities, to his wife?

Soon after this, he informed other members of his family of his

visions, and, being now about forty years old, assumed with them,

the character and profession of a prophet. Several of his friends,

particularly his wife, and his cousin Ali, a young man of great energy

of character, yielded to the evidence he gave of his divine mission.

Having been silently occupied about three years in converting his

nearest friends, he invited some of the most illustrious men of the

family of Hashem to his house, and, after conjuring them to abandon

their idolatry, for the worship of ONE GOD, he openly proclaimed his

calling, and set forth, that, by the commands of Heaven, revealed

through the angel Gabriel, he was prepared to impart to his countrymen

the most precious gift—the only means of future salvation.

Far from being convinced, the assembly was struck silent with mingled

surprise and contempt. The young and enthusiastic Ali, alone, yielded

to his pretences, and, falling at his feet, offered to attend him, in

good or evil, for life or for death. Several of the more sober part of

the assembly sought to dissuade Mohammed from his enterprise; but he

replied with a lofty fervor, that if the sun were placed in his right

hand, and the moon in his left, with power over the kingdoms they

enlighten, he would not, should not, could not hesitate or waver in his

course.

Inflamed by the opposition he met with among this assembly, Mohammed

now went forth, and, wherever he could find crowds of people, there he

announced his mission. In the temples, in the public squares, streets,

and market-places, he addressed the people, laying claim to the

prophetic character, and setting forth the duty of rejecting idolatry,

for the worship of one God. The people were struck with his eloquence,

his majesty of person, the beautiful imagery he presented to their

minds, and the sublime sentiments he promulgated. Even the poet Lebid

is said to have been converted by the wonderful beauty and elevation

of the thoughts poured forth by the professed prophet. The people

listened, and, though they felt the fire of his eloquence, still they

were so wedded to their idolatries, that few were yet disposed to join

him.

To aid in understanding the revolution wrought by Mohammed, it may

be well to sketch the condition of the Arabians at that period. The

original inhabitants of Arabia, though all of one stock, and occupying

a peninsula 1200 miles in length by 700 in width, had been, from

time immemorial, divided into a variety of distinct tribes. These

constituted petty communities or states, which, often changing, still

left the people essentially the same. In the more elevated table lands,

intersected by mountain ridges, with dreary wastes consisting of sandy

plains, the people continued to pursue a roving life, living partly

upon their flocks of camels, horses, and horned cattle, and partly

upon the robbery of trading caravans of other tribes. The people of the

plains, being near the water, settled in towns, cultivated the soil,

and pursued commerce.

The various tribes were each governed by the oldest or most worthy

sheik or nobleman. Their bards met once a year, at Okhad, holding a

fair of thirty days, for the recitation of their productions. That

which was declared to be the finest, was written in gold and suspended

in the great temple of Mecca. This was almost the only common tie

between the several states or tribes, for, although they nominally

acknowledged an emir, or national chief, they had never been brought to

act in one body.

The adoration of the Arabians consisted chiefly in the worship of the

heavenly luminaries; but they had a great variety of deities, these

being personifications of certain powers in nature, or passions in

mankind. They were represented by idols of every variety of shape,

which were gathered around the ancient temple of Caaba, at Mecca, a

large square edifice, considered as the central point of religion, and

the favorite seat of divinity. Their worship was attended with the most

horrid rites and shocking ceremonies: even children were sacrificed to

the idols, and one of the tribes was accustomed to bury their daughters

alive. Except that they fancied the souls of the departed to be

transformed into owls, hovering in gloom around the grave, it does not

appear that they had the least idea of a future state of existence.

Such was the state of religion among the native Arabians. Among the

foreign settlers in the towns there were a few followers of the Greek

and Roman philosophy; the Christians were never numerous. These latter

were divided into a variety of sects, and those belonging to the Greek

church, advocated monasteries, and were addicted to the worship of

images, martyrs and relics. Some of these, even elevated the Virgin

Mary into a deity, and addressed her as the third person in the Trinity.

Mohammed, while he no doubt looked with horror upon this state of

things, having studied the Bible, and clearly comprehended its sublime

revelation of one God, conceived the idea of uniting the people of

his native land under a religion of which this fundamental principle

should constitute the basis. His purpose was to crush idolatry, and

restore the lost worship of the true God. How far he was sincere, and

how far he was an impostor, we cannot venture to affirm. It is probable

that he was a religious enthusiast, deceived by his own fancies, and,

perhaps, really believing his own visions. At the outset of his career,

it is likely that he acted in good faith, while he was himself deluded.

When he had advanced so far as to see power and dominion offered

to his grasp, it is probable that his integrity gave way, and that

thenceforward we are to consider him as under the alternate guidance of

craft and fanaticism.

Several of the nobles citizens of Mecca were finally converted by

Mohammed. Khadijah was now dead, and the prophet had married Ayesha,

the daughter of Abubeker, a man of great influence, and who exercised

it in favor of his son-in-law. Yet the new faith made little progress,

and a persecution of its votaries arose, which drove them to

Abyssinia, and caused Mohammed himself to fly for safety to Medina.

This flight is called the Hegira, and, taking place in the year 622, is

the epoch from which Mohammedan chronology is computed, as is ours from

the birth of Christ.

At Medina, whither his tenets had been carried by pilgrims, Mohammed

was received with open arms. He was met by an imposing procession,

and invested at once with the regal and sacerdotal office. The people

also offered him assistance in propagating his faith, even by force,

if it should be required. From this moment, a vast field seems to have

been opened to the mind of Mohammed. Hitherto, he may have been but a

self-deceived enthusiast; but now, ambition appears to have taken at

least partial possession of his bosom. His revelations at once assumed

a higher tone. Hitherto he had chiefly inculcated the doctrine of one

God, eternal, omnipotent, most powerful and most merciful, together

with the practical duties of piety, prayer, charity, and pilgrimages.

He now revealed, as a part of his new faith, the duty of making war,

even with the sword, to propagate Islamism, and promised a sensual

paradise to those who should fall in doing battle in its behalf. At the

same time he announced that a settled fate or destiny hung over every

individual, which he could not by possibility alter, evade, or avert.

He now raised men, and proceeded, sword in hand, to force the

acknowledgment of his pretensions. With alternate victory and defeat,

he continued to prosecute his schemes, and at last fell upon the towns

and castles of the peaceful and unwarlike Jews. These were soon taken

and plundered. But the prophet paid dearly for his triumph. A Jewish

female, at the town of Chaibar, gave him poison in some drink, and,

though he survived, he never fully recovered from the effects of the

dose.

Thus advancing with the tribes settled in his own country, the power of

the ambitious apostle increased like the avalanche in its overwhelming

descent. Mecca was conquered, and yielded as well to his faith as

to his arms. He now made expeditions to Palestine and Syria, while

his officers were making conquests in all directions. His power was

soon so great, that he sent messages to the kings of Egypt, Persia,

and Ethiopia, and the emperor of Constantinople, commanding them to

acknowledge the divine law revealed through him.

At last, in the tenth year of the Hegira, he proceeded on a farewell

pilgrimage to Mecca. The scene was imposing beyond description. He was

attended by more than a hundred thousand of his followers, who paid

him the greatest reverence. Everything in dress, equipage and imposing

ceremony that could enhance the splendor of the pageant, and give it

sanctity in the eyes of the people, was adopted. This was the last

great event of his life.

Mohammed had now become too powerful to be resisted by force, but

not too exalted to be troubled by competition. His own example in

assuming the sacred character of an apostle and prophet, and the

brilliant success which had attended him, gave a hint to others of

the probable means of advancing themselves to a similar pitch of

dignity and dominion. The spirit of emulation, therefore, raised up a

fellow-prophet in the person of Moseilama, called to this day by the

followers of Islam “the lying Moseilama,” a descendant of the tribe of

Honeifa, and a principal person in the province of Yemen.

This man headed an embassy sent by his tribe to Mohammed, in the

ninth year of the Hegira, and then professed himself a Moslem; but on

his return home, pondering on the nature of the new religion and the

character and fortunes of its founder, the sacrilegious suggestion

occurred to him, that by skilful management he might share with his

countryman in the glory of a divine mission; and, accordingly, in the

ensuing year he began to put his project in execution. He gave out that

he, also, was a prophet sent of Heaven, having a joint commission with

Mohammed to recall mankind from idolatry to the worship of the true

God. He, moreover, aped his model so closely as to publish written

revelations resembling the Koran, pretended to have been derived from

the same source.

Having succeeded in gaining a considerable party, from the tribe of

Honeifa, he at length began to put himself still more nearly upon a

level with the prophet of Medina, and even went so far as to propose

to Mohammed a partnership in his spiritual supremacy. His letter

commenced thus: “From Moseilama, the apostle of God, to Mohammed, the

apostle of God. Now let the earth be half mine and half thine.” But

the latter, feeling himself too firmly established to stand in need of

an associate, deigned to return him only the following reply: “From

Mohammed, the apostle of God, to Moseilama, the liar. The earth is

God’s: he giveth the same for inheritance unto such of his servants as

he pleaseth; and the happy issue shall attend those who fear him.”

During the few months that Mohammed lived after this, Moseilama

continued, on the whole, to gain ground, and became at length so

formidable, as to occasion extreme anxiety to the prophet, now rapidly

sinking under the effects of disease. An expedition, under the command

of Caled, the “Sword of God,” was ordered out to suppress the rival

sect headed by the spurious apostle, and the bewildered imagination

of Mohammed, in the moments of delirium, which now afflicted him, was

frequently picturing to itself the results of the engagement between

his faithful Moslems and these daring apostates.

The army of Caled returned victorious. Moseilama himself, and ten

thousand of his followers, were left dead on the field; while the rest,

convinced by the shining evidence of truth that gleamed from the swords

of the conquerors, renounced their errors, and fell quietly back into

the bosom of the Mohammedan church. Several other insurgents of similar

pretences, but of minor consequence, were crushed in like manner in the

early stages of their defection.

We have now reached the period at which the religion of Mohammed may

be considered as having become permanently established. The conquest

of Mecca and of the Koreishites had been, in fact, the signal for the

submission of the rest of Arabia; and though several of the petty

tribes offered, for a time, the show of resistance to the prophet’s

arms, they were all eventually subdued. Between the taking of Mecca

and the period of Mohammed’s death, somewhat more than three years

elapsed. In that short period he had destroyed the idols of Arabia; had

extended his conquests to the borders of the Greek and Persian empires;

had rendered his name formidable to those once mighty kingdoms; had

tried his arms against the disciplined troops of the former, and

defeated them in a desperate encounter at Muta.

His throne was now firmly established; and an impulse given to the

Arabian nation, which induced them to invade, and enabled them to

conquer, a large portion of the globe. India, Persia, the Greek empire,

the whole of Asia Minor, Egypt, Barbary, and Spain, were eventually

reduced by their victorious arms. Mohammed himself did not indeed live

to see such mighty conquests achieved, but he commenced the train

which resulted in this wide-spread dominion, and, before his death,

had established over the whole of Arabia, and some parts of Asia, the

religion which he had devised.

And now, having arrived at the sixty-third year of his age, and the

tenth of the Hegira, A. D. 632, the fatal effects of the poison, which

had been so long rankling in his veins, began to discover themselves

more and more sensibly, and to operate with alarming virulence. Day

by day, he visibly declined, and it was evident that his life was

hastening to a close. For some time previous to the event, he was

conscious of its approach, and is said to have viewed and awaited it

with characteristic firmness. The third day before his dissolution,

he ordered himself to be carried to the mosque, that he might, for

the last time, address his followers, and bestow upon them his parting

prayers and benedictions. Being assisted to mount the pulpit, he

edified his brethren by the pious tenor of his dying counsels, and in

his own example taught a lesson of humility and penitence, such as we

shall scarcely find inculcated in the precepts of the Koran.

“If there be any man,” said the prophet, “whom I have unjustly

scourged, I submit my own back to the lash of retaliation. Have I

aspersed the reputation of any Mussulman? let him proclaim my fault

in the face of the congregation. Has any one been despoiled of his

goods? the little that I possess shall compensate the principal

and the interest of the debt.” “Yes,” replied a voice from the

crowd, “thou owest me three drachms of silver!” Mohammed heard the

complaint, satisfied the demand, and thanked his creditor that he

had accused him in this world, rather than at the day of judgment.

He then set his slaves at liberty, seventeen men and eleven women;

directed the order of his funeral; strove to allay the lamentations

of his weeping friends, and waited the approach of death. He did not

expressly nominate a successor, a step which would have prevented the

altercations that afterwards came so near to crushing in its infancy

the religion and the empire of the Saracens; but his appointment of

Abubeker to supply his place in the function of public prayer, and the

other services of the mosque, seemed to intimate indirectly the choice

of the prophet. This ancient and faithful friend, accordingly, after

much contention, became the first Caliph of the Saracens, though his

reign was closed by his death at the end of two years.

The death of Mohammed was hastened by the force of a burning fever,

which deprived him at times of the use of reason. In one of these

paroxysms of delirium, he demanded pen and paper, that he might compose

or dictate a divine book. Omar, who was watching at his side, refused

his request, lest the expiring prophet might dictate something which

should supersede the Koran. Others, however, expressed a great desire

that the book might be written; and so warm a dispute arose in the

chamber of the apostle that he was forced to reprove their unbecoming

vehemence. The writing was not performed, and many of his followers

have mourned the loss of the sublime revelations which his dying

visions might have bequeathed to them.

The favorite wife of the prophet, Ayesha, hung over her husband in

his last moments, sustaining his drooping head upon her knee, as he

lay stretched upon the carpet; watching with trembling anxiety his

changing countenance, and listening to the last broken sounds of his

voice. His disease, as it drew towards its termination, was attended at

intervals with most excruciating pains, which he constantly ascribed

to the fatal morsel taken at Chaibar; and as the mother of Bashar,

his companion who had died upon the spot from the same cause, stood

by his side, he exclaimed, “O mother of Bashar, the cords of my heart

are now breaking of the food which I ate with your son at Chaibar.” In

his conversation with those around him, he mentioned it as a special

prerogative granted to him, that the angel of death was not allowed

to take his soul till he had respectfully asked permission of him, and

this permission he condescendingly granted. Recovering from a swoon

into which the violence of his pains had thrown him, he raised his eyes

towards the roof of the house, and with faltering accents exclaimed, “O

God! pardon my sins. Yes, I come among my fellow-laborers on high!” His

face was then sprinkled with water, by his own feeble hand, and shortly

after he expired.

The city, and more especially the house of the prophet, became at once

a scene of sorrowful but confused lamentation. Some of his followers

could not believe that he was dead. “How can he be dead, our witness,

our intercessor, our mediator with God? He is not dead. Like Moses and

Jesus, he is wrapped in a holy trance, and speedily will he return to

his faithful people.” The evidence of sense was disregarded, and Omar,

brandishing his scimitar, threatened to strike off the heads of the

infidels who should affirm that the prophet was no more. The tumult was

at length appeased, by the moderation of Abubeker. “Is it Mohammed,”

said he, “or the God of Mohammed, whom ye worship? The God of Mohammed

liveth forever, but the apostle was a mortal like ourselves, and,

according to his own prediction, he hath experienced the common fate of

mortality.”

The prophet’s remains were deposited at Medina, in the very room where

he breathed his last, the floor being removed to make way for his

sepulchre, and a simple and unadorned monument was, some time after,

erected over them. The house itself has long since mouldered, or been

demolished, but the place of the prophet’s interment is still made

conspicuous to the superstitious reverence of his disciples. The story

of his relics being suspended in the air, by the power of loadstone in

an iron coffin, and that too at Mecca, instead of Medina, is a mere

idle fabrication. His tomb at the latter place has been visited by

millions of pilgrims, and, from the authentic accounts of travellers

who have visited both these holy cities in disguise, we learn that it

is constructed of plain mason work, fixed without elevation upon the

surface of the ground. The urn which encloses his body is protected by

a trellis of iron, which no one is permitted to pass.

The Koran or Alkoran, meaning _the Book_, is a collection of all the

various fragments which the prophet uttered during the period in which

he professed to exercise the apostolic office. They were originally

written on scattered leaves, but they were collected by Abubeker, two

years after Mohammed’s death. They are in the purest and most refined

dialect of Arabia, and are distinguished by extraordinary graces of

style.

The Koran furnishes not only the divinity, but the civil law of the

Mohammedans. It professes to contain the revelation of God’s will by

Gabriel to Mohammed, and through him to mankind. One of the books gives

an account of the translation of the prophet by night to the third

heaven, upon a winged animal, named Alborak, and resembling an ass,

where he saw unutterable things. The great doctrines of the Koran, as

before stated, are the existence of one supreme God, to whom alone

adoration and obedience are due. It declares that the divine law was

faithfully delivered by Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Christ. It

declares the immortality of the soul of man, and the final judgment,

and sets forth that the good are to dwell in everlasting bliss, amid

shady and delicious groves, and attended by heavenly virgins. The hope

of salvation is not confined to the Moslem, but is extended to all who

believe in God and do good works. Sinners, particularly unbelievers,

are to be driven about in a dark burning hell, forever.

The practical duties enjoined by the Koran, are the propagation

of Islamism, and prayers directed to the temple of Mecca, at five

different periods of the day, together with fasting, alms, religious

ablutions, pilgrimages to Mecca, &c. It allows a man but four wives,

though the prophet had seventeen, and it is curious to add that all

were widows, save one. It strongly prohibits usury, gaming, wine and

pork.

We cannot deny to Mohammed the possession of extraordinary genius. He

was a man of great eloquence, and the master of a beautiful style of

composition; and he possessed that majesty of person, which, united to

his mental qualities, gave him great ascendancy over those who came

into his presence. He lived in a dark age, amid a benighted people;

yet, without the aids of education, he mastered the religious systems

of the day, and took a broad and sagacious view of the moral and

political condition of the people of Asia. He conceived the sublime

idea of uniting, by one mighty truth, the broken fragments of his own

nation, and the destruction of idolatry by the substitution of the

worship of one God. It is true, that he sought to accomplish these

ends by unlawful means—by imposture, and the bloody use of the sword;

we must admit, also, that he was licentious and although we cannot

fail to condemn his character, we must acknowledge the splendor of

his abilities and allow that while he imposed on his followers, he

established a faith infinitely above Paganism, and sprinkled with many

rays of light from the fountain of Divine Truth.

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BELISARIUS.

This celebrated general, to whom the emperor Justinian is chiefly

indebted for the glory of his reign, was a native of Germania, on the

confines of Thrace, and was born about the year 505. It is probable

that he was of noble descent, liberally educated, and a professor of

the Christian faith. The first step in his military career was an

appointment in the personal guard of Justinian, while that prince was

yet heir apparent to the throne.

The Roman or Byzantine empire, at this period, embraced almost exactly

the present territory of the Turkish dominions in Europe and Asia

Minor, with the addition of Greece—Constantinople being its capital.

Italy was held by the Goths; Corsica, Sardinia and Barbary in Africa,

by the Vandals.

Justin I., an Illyrian peasant, having distinguished himself as a

soldier, had become emperor. His education was of course neglected, and

such was his ignorance, that his signature could only be obtained by

means of a wooden case, which directed his pen through the four first

letters of his name. From his accession, the chief administration of

affairs devolved on Justinian, his nephew and intended heir, whom he

was reluctantly compelled to raise from office to office, and at length

to acknowledge as his partner on the throne. His death, after a languid

reign of nine years and a life of nearly fourscore, left Justinian sole

sovereign in name, as well as in fact.

In order to appreciate the life and actions of Belisarius, it is

necessary to understand the character of the new emperor, during

whose long reign his great exploits were performed. The first act of

Justinian on ascending the throne, was to marry a dissolute actress,

named Theodora, who, though licentious, avaricious, cruel and

vindictive, soon acquired an almost complete control over him. His mind

was essentially feeble and inconstant, and, though his Christian faith

was doubtless sincere, it was less fruitful of virtues than of rites

and forms. At his accession his treasury was full; but it was soon

exhausted by his profuseness, and heavy taxes were imposed, offices

put to sale, charities suppressed, private fortunes seized, and, in

short, every act of rapacity, injustice and oppression, practised by

his ministers, to support the wasteful magnificence of the court.

The troops of the empire at this period were by no means what they

had been in the time of Scipio and Cæsar. They consisted, to a great

extent, of foreign mercenaries, and were divided into squadrons

according to their country; thus destroying all unity of feeling, and

annihilating that national spirit which once made the Roman arms the

terror of the world. These hired troops, which greatly outnumbered

the native soldiers, marched under their own national banner, were

commanded by their own officers, and usually followed their own

military regulations. The inefficiency of such mingled and discordant

forces, is obvious; yet it was under such a system that Belisarius

entered upon his military career.

With a feeble and corrupt government, an ill-appointed and trustless

army, the Roman empire was still surrounded with powerful enemies. It

is scarcely possible to conceive of a great nation in a condition of

more complete debility and helplessness, than was the kingdom of the

Cæsars, at the period in which Belisarius appears upon the active stage

of life.

Kobad, king of Persia, after a long cessation of hostilities, renewed

the war toward the close of Justin’s reign, by the invasion of

Iberia, which claimed the protection of the emperor. At this period,

Belisarius, being about twenty years of age, had the command of a

squadron of horse, and was engaged in some of the conflicts with the

Persian forces, on the borders of Armenia. In conjunction with an

officer named Sittas, he ravaged a large extent of territory, and

brought back a considerable number of prisoners.

On a second incursion, however, they were less fortunate; for, being

suddenly attacked by the Persian forces, they were entirely defeated.

It appears that Belisarius incurred no blame, for he was soon after

promoted to the post of governor of Dara, and the command of the forces

stationed there. It was at this place that he chose Procopius, the

historian, as his secretary, and who afterwards repaid his kindness by

a vain attempt to brand his name with enduring infamy.

Soon after Belisarius obtained the command of Dara, Justinian came

to the throne, and enjoined it upon his generals to strengthen the

defences of the empire in that quarter. This was attempted, but the

Persians baffled the effort. Belisarius was now appointed general of

the East, being commander-in-chief of the whole line of the Asiatic

frontier. Foreseeing that a formidable struggle was soon to ensue, he

applied himself to the raising and disciplining an army. He traversed

the neighboring provinces in person, and at last succeeded in mustering

five and twenty thousand men. These, however, were without discipline,

and their spirit was depressed by the ill success that had long

attended the Roman arms.

In this state of things, the news suddenly came, that 40,000 men, the

flower of the Persian army, commanded by Firouz, was marching upon

Dara. Confident of victory, the Persian general announced his approach,

by the haughty message that a bath should be ready for him at Dara

the next evening. Belisarius made no other reply than preparations for

battle. Fortifying himself in the best manner he was able, he awaited

the onset; exhorting his men, however, by every stimulating motive he

could suggest, to do honor to the name and fame of Rome.

The battle began by a mutual discharge of arrows, so numerous as to

darken the air. When the quivers were exhausted, they came to closer

combat. The struggle was obstinate and bloody; and the Persians were

already about to win the victory, when a body of horse, judiciously

stationed behind a hill by Belisarius, rushed forward, and turned the

tide of success. The Persians fled, and the triumph of Belisarius was

complete. They left their royal standard upon the field of battle, with

8000 slain. This victory had a powerful effect, and decided the fate of

the campaign.

The aged Kobad, who had conceived a profound contempt for the Romans,

was greatly irritated by the defeat of his troops. He determined upon

a still more powerful effort, and the next season sent a formidable

army to invade Syria. Belisarius, with a promptitude that astounded he

enemy, proceeded to the defence of this province, and, with an inferior

force, compelled the Persian army to retreat. Obliged at length, by

his soldiers, against his own judgment, to give battle to the enemy,

he suffered severely, and only avoided total defeat by the greatest

coolness and address. Even the partial victory of the enemy was without

advantage to them, for they were obliged to retreat, and abandon their

enterprise. Soon after this event, Kobad died, in his eighty-third

year, and his successor, Nushirvan, concluded a treaty of peace with

Justinian.

The war being thus terminated, Belisarius took up his residence at

Constantinople, and here became the second husband of Antonina, who,

though the child of an actress, had contracted an exalted marriage on

account of her beauty, and having filled a high office, enjoyed the

rank and honors of a patrician. While thus raised above the dangerous

profession of her mother, she still adhered to the morals of the stage.

Though openly licentious, she obtained through her bold, decided, and

intriguing character, aided by remarkable powers of fascination, a

complete ascendancy over Belisarius. It is seldom that a man is great

in all respects, and the weakness of the general whose history we are

delineating, was exhibited in a blind and submissive attachment to this

profligate woman.

A singular outbreak of popular violence occurred about this period,

which stained the streets of Constantinople with blood, and threatened

for a time to hurl Justinian from his throne. The fondness of the

Romans for the amusements of the circus, had in no degree abated.

Indeed, as the gladiatorial combats had been suppressed, these

games were frequented with redoubled ardor. The charioteers were

distinguished by the various colors of red, white, blue, and green,

intending to represent the four seasons. Those of each color,

especially the blue and green, possessed numerous and devoted

partisans, which became at last connected with civil and religious

prejudices.

Justinian favored the Blues, who became for that reason the emblem

of royalty; on the other hand, the Greens became the type of

disaffection. Though these dangerous factions were denounced by the

statutes, still, at the period of which we speak, each party were ready

to lavish their fortunes, risk their lives, and brave the severest

sentence of the laws, in support of their darling color. At the

commencement of the year 532, by one of those sudden caprices which

are often displayed by the populace, the two factions united, and

turned their vengeance against Justinian. The prisons were forced, and

the guards massacred. The city was then fired in various parts, the

cathedral of St. Sophia, a part of the imperial palace, and a great

number of public and private buildings, were wrapped in conflagration.

The cry of “_Nika! Nika!_” Vanquish! Vanquish! ran through every part

of the capital.

The principal citizens hurried to the opposite shore of the Bosphorus,

and the emperor entrenched himself within his palace. In the mean time,

Hypatius, nephew of the emperor Anastatius, was declared emperor by

the rioters, and so formidable had the insurrection now become, that

Justinian was ready to abdicate his crown. For the first and last

time, Theodora seemed worthy of the throne, for she withstood the

pusillanimity of her husband, and, through her animated exhortations,

it was determined to take the chance of victory or death.

Justinian’s chief hope now rested on Belisarius. Assisted by Mundus,

the governor of Illyria, who chanced to be in the capital, he now

called upon the guards to rally in defence of the emperor; but these

refused to obey him. Meanwhile, by another caprice the party of the

Blues, becoming ashamed of their conduct, shrunk one by one away, and

left Hypatius to be sustained by the Greens alone.

These were dismayed at seeing Belisarius, issuing with a few troops

which he had collected, from the smoking ruins of the palace. Drawing

his sword, and commanding his veterans to follow, he fell upon them

like a thunderbolt. Mundus, with another division of soldiers,

rushed upon them from the opposite direction. The insurgents were

panic-struck, and dispersed in every quarter. Hypatius was dragged

from the throne which he had ascended a few hours before, and was soon

after executed in prison. The Blues now emerged from their concealment,

and, falling upon their antagonists, glutted their merciless and

ungovernable vengeance. No less than thirty thousand persons were slain

in this fearful convulsion.

We must now turn our attention to Africa, in which the next exploits

of Belisarius were performed. The northern portion of this part of the

world, known to us by the merited by-word of Barbary, hardly retains a

trace of the most formidable rival and opulent province of Rome. After

the fall of Jugurtha, at the commencement of the second century, it

had enjoyed a long period of prosperity and peace—having escaped the

sufferings which had fallen upon every other portion of the empire. The

Africans in the fifth century were abounding in wealth, population, and

resources. During the minority of Valentinian, Boniface was appointed

governor of Africa. Deceived by Ætius into a belief of ingratitude on

the part of the government at home, he determined upon resistance, and

with this view, concluded a treaty with the Vandals in the southern

portion of Spain.

These, embarking from Andalusia, whose name still denotes their former

residence, landed at the opposite cape of Ceuta, A. D. 429. Their

leader was the far-famed Genseric, one of the most able, but most

lawless and bloody monarchs recorded in history. Of a middle stature,

and lamed by a fall from his horse, his demeanor was thoughtful and

silent; he was contemptuous of luxury, sudden in anger, and boundless

in ambition. Yet his impetuosity was always guided and restrained by

cunning. He well knew how to tempt the allegiance of a foreign nation,

to cast the seeds of future discord, or to rear them to maturity.

The barbarians on their passage to Africa consisted of 50,000 fighting

men, with a great crowd of women and children. Their progress

through the African province was rapid and unopposed, till Boniface,

discovering the artifices of Ætius, and the favorable disposition of

the government of Rome, bitterly repented the effects of his hasty

resentment. He now endeavored to withdraw his Vandal allies; but he

found it less easy to allay, than it had been to raise, the storm. His

proposals were haughtily rejected, and both parties had recourse to

arms. Boniface was defeated, and in the event, Genseric obtained entire

possession of the Roman provinces in Africa.

Carthage, which had risen from its ruins at the command of Julius

Cæsar and been embellished by Diocletian, had regained a large share

of its former opulence and pride, and might be considered, at the

time of which we speak, the second city in the western empire. Making

this his capital, Genseric proceeded to adopt various measures to

increase his power, and, among others, determined upon the creation

of a naval force. With him, project and performance were never far

asunder. His ships soon rode in the Mediterranean, and carried terror

and destruction in their train. He annexed to his kingdom the Balearic

islands, Corsica and Sardinia; the last of which was afterwards

allotted by the Vandals as a place of exile or imprisonment for captive

Moors; and during many years, the ports of Africa were what they became

in more recent days, the abode of fierce and unpunished pirates.

With every returning spring, the fleet of Genseric ravaged the coasts

of Italy and Sicily, and even of Greece and Illyria, sometimes bearing

off the inhabitants to slavery, and sometimes levelling their cities to

the ground. Emboldened by long impunity, he attacked every government

alike. On one occasion, when sailing from Carthage, he was asked by

the pilot of his vessel to what coast he desired to steer—“Leave the

guidance to God,” exclaimed the stern barbarian; “God will doubtless

lead us against the guilty objects of his anger!”

The most memorable achievement of Genseric, the sack of Rome in 455,

is an event too much out of the track of our narrative to be detailed

here. We can only pause to state, that, after spending a fortnight

in that great metropolis, and loading his fleets with its spoils,

he returned to Africa, bearing the Empress Eudocia thither, as his

captive. She was, at length, released, but one of her daughters was

compelled by Genseric to accept his son in marriage.

The repeated outrages of the Vandal king at length aroused the tardy

resentment of the court of Constantinople, and Leo I., then emperor,

despatched an army against him, consisting of nearly one hundred

thousand men, attended by the most formidable fleet that had ever been

launched by the Romans. The commander was a weak man, and being cheated

into a truce of five days by Genseric, the latter took advantage of a

moment of security, and, in the middle of the night, caused a number

of small vessels, filled with combustibles, to be introduced among the

Roman ships. A conflagration speedily ensued; and the Romans, starting

from their slumbers, found themselves encompassed by fire and the

Vandals. The wild shrieks of the perishing multitude mingled with the

crackling of the flames and the roaring of the winds; and the enemy

proved as unrelenting as the elements. The greater part of the fleet

was destroyed, and only a few shattered ships, and a small number of

survivors, found their way back to Constantinople.

A peace soon followed this event, which continued uninterrupted till

the time of Justinian. Genseric died in 477, leaving his kingdom to his

son Hunneric. About the year 530, Gelimer being upon the Vandal throne,

Justinian began to meditate an expedition against him. His generals,

with the exception of Belisarius, were averse to the undertaking. The

same feeling was shared by many of the leading men about the court, and

in an assembly, in which the subject was under discussion, Justinian

was about to yield to the opposition, when a bishop from the east

earnestly begged admission to his presence.

On entering the council chamber he exhorted the emperor to stand forth

as the champion of the church, and, in order to confirm him in the

enterprise, he declared that the Lord had appeared to him in a vision,

saying, “I will march before him in his battles, and make him sovereign

of Africa.” Men seldom reject a tale, however fantastic, which

coincides with their wishes or their prepossessions. All the doubts of

Justinian were at once removed; he commanded a fleet and army to be

forthwith equipped for this sacred enterprise, and endeavored still

further to insure its success by his austerity in fasts and vigils.

Belisarius was named supreme commander, still retaining his title as

General of the East.

In the month of June, A. D. 533, the Roman armament, consisting of five

hundred transports, with twenty thousand sailors, and nearly the same

number of soldiers, became ready for departure. The general embarked,

attended on this occasion by Antonina and his secretary, the historian

Procopius, who, at first, had shared in the popular fear and distaste

of the enterprise, but had afterwards been induced to join it by a

hopeful dream. The galley of Belisarius was moored near the shore,

in front of the imperial palace, where it received a last visit from

Justinian, and a solemn blessing from the patriarch of the city. A

soldier recently baptized was placed on board, to secure its prosperous

voyage; its sails were then unfurled, and, with the other ships in its

train, it glided down the straits of the Bosphorus, and gradually

disappeared from the lingering gaze of the assembled multitude.

With a force scarcely one fourth as strong as that which was

annihilated by Genseric, about seventy years before, Belisarius

proceeded upon his expedition. Having touched at Sicily and Malta,

he proceeded to the coast of Africa, where he landed in September,

about one hundred and fifty miles from Carthage, and began his

march upon that city. He took several towns, but enforcing the most

rigid discipline upon his troops, and treating the inhabitants with

moderation and courtesy, he entirely gained their confidence and good

will. They brought ample provisions to his camp, and gave him such a

reception as might be expected rather by a native than a hostile army.

When the intelligence of the landing and progress of the Romans reached

Gelimer, who was then at Hermione, he was roused to revenge, and took

his measures with promptitude and skill. He had an army of eighty

thousand men, the greater part of whom were soon assembled, and posted

in a defile about ten miles from Carthage, directly in the route by

which Belisarius was approaching. Several severe skirmishes soon

followed, in which the Vandals were defeated.

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