ensued. In the outset, the Vandals prevailed, and the Romans were on
the eve of flying, defeated, from the field. A pause on the part of
Gelimer was, however, seized upon by Belisarius to collect and rally
his forces, and with a united effort he now charged the Vandal army.
The conflict was fierce, but brief: Gelimer was totally defeated, and,
with a few faithful adherents, he sought safety in flight. Knowing that
the ruinous walls of Carthage could not sustain a siege, he took his
way to the deserts of Numidia.
All idea of resistance was abandoned; the gates of Carthage were thrown
open, and the chains across the entrance of the port were removed. The
Roman fleet soon after arrived, and was safely anchored in the harbor.
On the 16th September, Belisarius made a solemn entry into the capital.
Having taken every precaution against violence and rapacity, not a
single instance of tumult or outrage occurred, save that a captain of
one of the vessels plundered some of the inhabitants, but was obliged
to restore the spoil he had taken. The soldiers marched peaceably to
their quarters; the inhabitants continued to pursue their avocations;
the shops remained open, and, in spite of the change of sovereigns,
public business was not for a moment interrupted! Belisarius took
up his quarters in the palace of Gelimer, and in the evening held a
sumptuous banquet there, being attended by the same servants who had so
lately been employed by the Vandal king.
With his usual activity, Belisarius immediately applied himself to
the restoration of the ruinous ramparts of the city. The ditch was
deepened, the breaches filled, the walls strengthened, and the whole
was completed in so short a space as to strike the Vandals with
amazement. Meanwhile, Gelimer was collecting a powerful army at Bulla,
on the borders of Numidia at the distance of four days’ journey from
Carthage.
Having placed the capital in a proper state for defence, at the end
of three months from its capture, Belisarius led forth his army,
leaving only five hundred troops to guard the city. Gelimer was now
within twenty miles of the capital, having raised an army of one
hundred thousand men. No sooner had the Romans taken up their march
toward his camp, than they prepared for battle. The armies soon met,
and Belisarius, having determined to direct all his endeavors against
the centre of the Vandal force, caused a charge to be made by some
squadrons of the horse guards. These were repulsed, and a second onset,
also, proved unsuccessful.
But a third prevailed, after an obstinate resistance. The ranks of
the enemy were broken; Zazo, the king’s brother, was slain, and
consternation now completed the rout of the Vandals. Gelimer, under
the influence of panic, betook himself to flight; his absence was
perceived, and his conduct imitated. The soldiers dispersed in all
directions, leaving their camp, their goods, their families, all in
the hands of the Romans. Belisarius seized upon the royal treasure in
behalf of his sovereign, and in spite of his commands, the licentious
soldiers spent the night in debauchery, violence and plunder.
Gelimer fled to the mountains of Papua, inhabited by a savage but
friendly tribe of Moors. He sought refuge in the small town of Medenus,
which presented a craggy precipice on all sides. Belisarius returned to
Carthage, and sent out various detachments, which rapidly subdued the
most remote portions of the Vandal kingdom.
Immediately after the capture of Carthage, he had despatched one of his
principal officers to Justinian, announcing these prosperous events.
The intelligence arrived about the time that the emperor had completed
his _pandects_.[1] The exultation of the monarch is evinced by the
swelling titles he assumes in the preamble of these laws. All mention
of the general by whom his conquests had been achieved, is carefully
avoided; while the emperor is spoken of as the “pious,” “happy,”
“victorious,” and “triumphant!” He even boasts, in his Institutes, of
the warlike fatigues he had borne, though he had never quitted the
luxurious palace of Constantinople, except for recreation in some of
his neighboring villas.
While the Roman general was actively employed at Carthage, Pharus was
proceeding in the siege of Medenus, which had been begun immediately
after the flight of Gelimer. Pent up in this narrow retreat, the
sufferings of the Vandal monarch were great, from the want of supplies
and the savage habits of the Moors. His lot was likewise embittered by
the recollection of the soft and luxurious life to which he had lately
been accustomed.
During their dominion in Africa, the Vandals had declined from their
former hardihood, and yielded to the enervating influence of climate,
security and success. Their arms were laid aside; gold embroidery shone
upon their silken robes, and every dainty from the sea and land were
combined in their rich repasts. Reclining in the shade of delicious
gardens, their careless hours were amused by dancers and musicians,
and no exertion beyond the chase, interrupted their voluptuous repose.
The Moors of Papua, on the contrary, dwelt in narrow huts, sultry in
summer, and pervious to the snows of winter. They most frequently
slept upon the bare ground, and a sheepskin for a couch was a rare
refinement. The same dress, a cloak and a tunic, clothed them at every
season, and they were strangers to the use of both bread and wine.
Their grain was devoured in its crude state, or at best was coarsely
pounded and baked, with little skill, into an unleavened paste.
Compelled to share this savage mode of life, Gelimer and his attendants
began to consider captivity, or even death, as better than the daily
hardships they endured. To avail himself of this favorable disposition,
Pharus, in a friendly letter, proposed a capitulation, and assured
Gelimer of generous treatment from Belisarius and Justinian. The spirit
of the Vandal prince, however, was still not wholly broken, and he
refused the offers, while acknowledging the kindness of his enemy.
In his answer he entreated the gifts of a lyre, a loaf of bread, and
a sponge, and his messenger explained the grounds of this singular
petition. At Medenus, he had never tasted the food of civilized
nations, he wished to sing to music an ode on his misfortunes written
by himself, and a swelling on his eyes needed a sponge for its cure.
The brave Roman, touched with pity that such wants should be felt by
the grandson and successor of Genseric, forthwith sent these presents
up the mountain, but by no means abated the watchfulness of his
blockade.
The siege had already continued for upwards of three months, and
several Vandals had sunk beneath its hardships, but Gelimer still
displayed the stubborn inflexibility usual to despotic rulers, when
the sight of a domestic affliction suddenly induced him to yield. In
the hovel where he sat gloomily brooding over his hopeless fortunes,
a Moorish woman was preparing, at the fire, some coarse dough. Two
children, her son and the nephew of Gelimer, were watching her progress
with the eager anxiety of famine. The young Vandal was the first to
seize the precious morsel, still glowing with heat, and blackened with
ashes, when the Moor, by blows and violence, forced it from his mouth.
So fierce a struggle for food, at such an age, overcame the sternness
of Gelimer. He agreed to surrender on the same terms lately held out to
him, and the promises of Pharus were confirmed by the Roman general,
who sent Cyprian as his envoy to Papua. The late sovereign of Africa
reentered his capital as a suppliant and a prisoner, and at the suburb
of Aclas, beheld his conqueror for the first time.
With the capitulation of Gelimer, the Vandal was at an end. There now
remained to Belisarius but the important task of making the conquered
countries permanently useful to the Romans. But, while occupied
in this design, his glory having provoked envy, he was accused to
Justinian of the intention of making himself king over the territories
he had conquered. With the weakness of a little mind, the emperor so
far yielded to the base accusation as to send a message to Belisarius,
indicating his suspicions. The latter immediately departed from
Carthage, and, taking with him his spoils and captives, proceeded to
Constantinople.
This ready obedience dissipated the suspicions of the emperor, and he
made ample and prompt reparation for his unfounded jealousy. Medals
were struck by his orders, bearing on one side the effigy of the
emperor, and on the other that of the victorious general, encircled by
the inscription, _Belisarius, the glory of the Romans_. Beside this,
the honors of a triumph were decreed him, the first ever witnessed in
the Eastern capital.
The ceremony was in the highest degree imposing. The triumphal
procession marched from the house of Belisarius to the hippodrome,[2]
filled with exulting thousands, where Justinian and Theodora sat
enthroned. Among the Vandal captives, Gelimer was distinguished by the
purple of a sovereign. He shed no tears, but frequently repeated the
words of Solomon, “Vanity of vanities: all is vanity.” When he reached
the imperial throne, and was commanded to cast aside the ensigns of
royalty, Belisarius hastened to do the same, to show him that he was to
undergo no insult as a prisoner, but only to yield the customary homage
of a subject. We may pause for a moment to reflect upon the caprices
of fortune, which had raised a comedian, in the person of Theodora, to
see the successor of Genseric and Scipio prostrate as slaves before her
footstool.
Both the conqueror and captive experienced the effects of imperial
generosity. The former received a large share of the spoil as his
reward, and was named consul for the ensuing year. To the Vandal
monarch, an extensive estate in Galatia was assigned, to which he
retired, and, in peaceful obscurity, spent the remainder of his days.
We must now turn our attention to Italy. Theodoric the Great, the
natural son of Theodomir, king of the Ostrogoths, became the master of
Italy toward the close of the fifth century. The Gothic dominion was
thus established in the ancient seat of the Roman empire, and the king
of the Goths was seated upon the throne of the Cæsars.
Theodoric has furnished one of the few instances in which a successful
soldier has abandoned warlike pursuits for the duties of civil
administration, and, instead of seeking power by his arms, has devoted
himself to the improvement of his kingdom by a peaceful policy. Upright
and active in his conduct, he enforced discipline among his soldiers,
and so tempered his general kindness by acts of salutary rigor, that
he was loved as if indulgent, yet obeyed as if severe. He applied
himself to the revival of trade, the support of manufactures, and the
encouragement of agriculture.
At the death of this great monarch, in 526, his grandson, Athalaric,
then only ten years of age, became king. After a nominal reign of eight
years he died in consequence of his dissipations, and was succeeded by
Theodatus, the nephew of Theodoric. This prince having attained the
throne by the murder of Amalasontha, the widow of Theodoric, Justinian
regarded him as an usurper stained with an atrocious crime, and
therefore determined to drive him from his throne.
Accordingly, a force of twelve thousand men was despatched to Italy
under Belisarius. Landing at Catania, in Sicily, they surprised the
Goths, and had little difficulty in reducing the island. Fixing his
head quarters at Syracuse, he was making preparations to enter the
heart of Italy, when a messenger came to inform him that a serious
insurrection had broken out at Carthage. He immediately set out
for that place. On his arrival the insurgents fled, but Belisarius
pursued them, overtook them, and, though their force was four times as
great as his own, they were completely defeated in a pitched battle.
Returning to Carthage, the Roman general was informed by a messenger
from Sicily that a formidable mutiny had broken out in his army there.
He immediately embarked, and soon restored his troops to order and
discipline.
The rapid conquest of Sicily by Belisarius struck terror into the heart
of king Theodatus, who was weak by nature, and depressed by age. He was
therefore induced to subscribe an ignominious treaty with Justinian,
some of the conditions of which forcibly display the pusillanimity of
one emperor, and the vanity of the other. Theodatus promised that no
statue should be raised to his honor, without another of Justinian at
his right hand, and that the imperial name should always precede his
own in the acclamations of the people, at public games and festivals:
as if the shouts of the rabble were matter for a treaty!
But even this humiliating compact was not sufficient for the grasping
avarice of Justinian. He required of Theodatus the surrender of his
throne, which the latter promised; but before the compact could be
carried into effect, he was driven from his throne, and Vittiges, a
soldier of humble birth, but great energy and experience, was declared
his successor. Establishing his head quarters at Ravenna, the Gothic
king was making preparations to sustain his cause, when Belisarius,
who had taken Naples, was invited to Rome by Pope Sylverius.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, he immediately advanced, and
triumphantly entered the “eternal city.”
Rome had now been under the dominion of its Gothic conquerors for
sixty years, during which it had enjoyed the advantages of peace and
prosperity. It had been the object of peculiar care, attention, and
munificence, and had received the respect due to the ancient mistress
of the world. Still, the people at large looked upon their rulers as
foreigners and barbarians, and desired the return of the imperial sway,
seeming to forget that they were preferring a foreign to a native
government.
Belisarius lost no time in repairing the fortifications of Rome, while
he actively extended his conquests in the southern parts of Italy. His
military fame was now a host, and most of the towns submitted, either
from a preference of the Byzantine government, or respect for the
military prowess of the Roman general.
The great achievements of Belisarius strike us with wonder, when we
consider the feeble means with which they were accomplished. His force
at the outset of his invasion of Italy did not exceed 12,000 men.
These were now much reduced by the bloody siege of Naples, and by his
subsequent successes, which made it necessary to supply garrisons for
the captured towns.
Vittiges, in his Adriatic capital, had spent the winter in
preparations, and when the spring arrived, he set forth with a powerful
army. Knowing the small force of Belisarius, he hurried forward towards
Rome, fearing only that his enemy should escape by flight. The genius
of Belisarius never shone with greater lustre than at this moment. By
numerous devices he contrived to harass the Gothic army in their march,
but owing to the flight of a detachment of his troops whom he had
stationed at one of the towers, to delay their progress, they at last
came upon him by surprise.
He was at the moment without the city, attended by only a thousand of
his guards, when suddenly he found himself surrounded by the van of the
Gothic cavalry. He now displayed not only the skill of a general, but
the personal courage and prowess of a soldier. Distinguished by the
charger whom he had often rode in battle—a bay with a white face—he
was seen in the foremost ranks, animating his men to the conflict.
“That is Belisarius,” exclaimed some Italian deserters, who knew him.
“Aim at the bay!” was forthwith the cry through the Gothic squadrons
and a cloud of arrows was soon aimed at the conspicuous mark. It
seemed as if the fate of Italy was felt to be suspended upon a single
life—so fierce was the struggle to kill or capture the Roman leader.
Amid the deadly strife, however, Belisarius remained unhurt; and it is
said that more of the army fell that day by his single arm, than by
that of any other Roman. His guards displayed the utmost courage and
devotion to his person, rallying around him, and raising their bucklers
on every side, to ward off the showers of missiles that flew with
deadly aim at his breast. Not less than a thousand of the enemy fell in
the conflict—a number equal to the whole Roman troop engaged in the
battle. The Goths at length gave way, and Belisarius, with his guards,
reentered the city.
On the morrow, March 12th, A. D. 537, the memorable siege of Rome
began. Finding it impossible, even with their vast army, to encircle
the entire walls of the city, which were twelve miles in length, the
Goths selected five of the fourteen gates, and invested them. They
now cut through the aqueducts, in order to stop the supply of water,
and several of them, having never been repaired, remain to this day,
extending into the country, and seeming like the “outstretched and
broken limbs of an expiring giant.”
Though the baths of the city were stopped, the Tiber supplied the
people with water for all needful purposes. The resources and activity
of Belisarius knew no bounds: yet he had abundant occasion for all the
advantages these could supply. The relative smallness of his force,
the feebleness of the defences the fickleness and final disaffection
of the people, the intrigues of Vittiges, and his vastly superior army
constituted a web of difficulties which would have overwhelmed any
other than a man whose genius could extort good from evil, and convert
weakness into strength.
For a whole year, the encircling walls of Rome were the scenes of
almost incessant attack and defence. The fertile genius of Vittiges
suggested a thousand expedients, and the number as well as courage
of his troops enabled him to plan and execute a variety of daring
schemes. Yet he was always baffled by his vigilant rival, and his most
elaborate devices were rendered fruitless by the superior genius of the
Roman general. At last, on the 21st of March, A. D. 538, foreseeing
that Belisarius was about to receive reinforcements, and despairing
of success in the siege, Vittiges withdrew his army, suffering in his
retreat a fearful massacre, from a sally of the Roman troops.
Vittiges retired to Ravenna, and Belisarius soon invested it. While
he was pressing the siege, Justinian, probably alarmed by the threats
of the Persian king, entered into a treaty with the ambassadors of
Vittiges, by which he agreed to a partition of Italy, taking one half
himself, and allowing the Gothic king to retain the other portion.
Belisarius refused to ratify this treaty, and soon after, was pressed
by the Goths to become their king. Vittiges even joined in this
request, and Belisarius had now the easy opportunity of making himself
the emperor of the West, without the remotest fear of failure. But
he was too deeply impressed with his oath of allegiance, to allow
him to entertain a treacherous design toward his sovereign, and he
rejected the tempting offer. The merit of his fidelity under these
circumstances, is heightened by the consideration that he had refused
the ratification of the treaty, and was well aware that reproach, or
even hostility, might await him at Constantinople.
Soon after these events, Ravenna capitulated, and Belisarius became
its master. His fame was now at its height; but this only served to
inflame the envy of his rivals at Constantinople. These, insidiously
working upon the suspicious temper of Justinian, induced him to command
the return of Belisarius to Constantinople. With prompt obedience,
he embarked at Ravenna, carrying with him his Gothic captives and
treasure. After five years of warfare, from the foot of Etna to the
banks of the Po, during which he had subdued nearly the same extent
of country which had been acquired by the Romans in the first five
centuries from the building of that city, he arrived at Constantinople.
The voice of envy was silenced for a time, and Belisarius was appointed
to the command of the army now about to proceed against the Persians.
The captive monarch of the Goths was received with generous courtesy
by the emperor, and an ample estate was allotted to him in Asia.
Justinian gazed with admiration on the strength and beauty of the
Gothic captives—their fair complexions, auburn locks, and lofty
stature. A great number of these, attracted by the fame and character
of Belisarius, enlisted in his guards.
In the spring of the year 540, Chosroes or Nushirvan, the Persian king,
invaded the Roman provinces in the east. The next year Belisarius
proceeded against him, and took his station at Dara. Here, instead of
a well-appointed army, he found only a confused and discordant mass
of undisciplined men. After various operations, being baffled by the
treachery or incapacity of his subalterns, he was obliged to retreat,
and closed a fruitless campaign, by placing his men in winter quarters.
Being recalled to Constantinople, he went thither, but took the field
early in the spring, with the most powerful army he had ever commanded.
Nushirvan advanced into Syria, but, thwarted by the masterly manoeuvres
of Belisarius, he was at last obliged to retreat. Soon after, the Roman
general being again recalled by Justinian, the most fatal disasters
befel the Roman army.
During these Persian campaigns, the political security, as well as the
domestic happiness of Belisarius, were shaken by the misconduct of his
wife. She had long been engaged in an intrigue with Theodosius, the
young soldier newly baptized as an auspicious omen in the galley of the
general, upon his departure for Africa. Though told of this, Belisarius
had been pacified by the protestations and artifices of Antonina; but
while he was absent in Asia Minor, she, being left in Constantinople,
pursued her licentious career with little scruple.
Her son Photius, a gallant young soldier, being a check upon her
conduct, became the object of her hatred. While at the distance of a
thousand miles, during the Persian campaign, he still experienced the
malignant influence of her intrigues, and urged by a sense of duty
to his step-father, made him acquainted with his mother’s depravity.
When she afterwards joined her husband on the frontier, he caused her
to be imprisoned, and sent Photius towards Ephesus to inflict summary
punishment upon Theodosius. The latter was taken captive by Photius,
and borne to Cilicia.
Antonina, by her convenient intrigues in behalf of Theodora, had laid
her under great obligations, and obtained the greatest influence
over her. The empress, therefore, now interfered to save her friend.
Positive injunctions were sent to Cilicia, and both Photius and
Theodosius were brought to Constantinople. The former was cast into
a dungeon and tortured at the rack; the latter was received with
distinction; but he soon expired from illness. Photius, after a third
escape from prison, proceeded to Jerusalem, where he took the habit of
a monk, and finally attained the rank of abbot.
Belisarius and Antonina were summoned to Constantinople, and the
empress commanded the injured husband to abstain from the punishment
of his wife. He obeyed this order of his sovereign. She next required
a reconciliation at his hands; but he refused to comply with a demand
which no sovereign had a right to make. He, therefore, remained
at Constantinople, under the secret displeasure of Theodora and
Justinian, who only wanted some plausible pretext to accomplish his
ruin.
The invasion of Nushirvan, in the ensuing spring impelled the
terrified emperor to lay aside his animosity, and restore the hero
to the direction of the eastern armies; but in this campaign, his
former offence was aggravated, and the glory of saving the East was
outweighed by the guilt of frankness. Justinian was recovering from a
dangerous illness; a rumor of his death had reached the Roman camp, and
Belisarius gave an opinion in favor of the emperor’s nearest kinsman
as his successor, instead of acknowledging the pretensions of Theodora
to the throne. This declaration inflamed with equal anger the aspiring
wife and the uxorious husband.