It was the custom of the Roman triumphs, that a slave should be placed

behind the chariot to remind the conqueror of the instability of

fortune, and the infirmities of human nature. Procopius, in his

Anecdotes, has assumed that servile and ungrateful office. The generous

reader may cast away the libel, but the evidence of facts will adhere to

his memory; and he will reluctantly confess, that the fame, and even

the virtue, of Belisarius, were polluted by the lust and cruelty of his

wife; and that hero deserved an appellation which may not drop from the

pen of the decent historian. The mother of Antonina was a theatrical

prostitute, and both her father and grandfather exercised, at

Thessalonica and Constantinople, the vile, though lucrative, profession

of charioteers. In the various situations of their fortune she became

the companion, the enemy, the servant, and the favorite of the empress

Theodora: these loose and ambitious females had been connected by

similar pleasures; they were separated by the jealousy of vice, and at

length reconciled by the partnership of guilt. Before her marriage with

Belisarius, Antonina had one husband and many lovers: Photius, the son

of her former nuptials, was of an age to distinguish himself at the

siege of Naples; and it was not till the autumn of her age and

beauty that she indulged a scandalous attachment to a Thracian youth.

Theodosius had been educated in the Eunomian heresy; the African voyage

was consecrated by the baptism and auspicious name of the first soldier

who embarked; and the proselyte was adopted into the family of his

spiritual parents, Belisarius and Antonina. Before they touched the

shores of Africa, this holy kindred degenerated into sensual love: and

as Antonina soon overleaped the bounds of modesty and caution, the Roman

general was alone ignorant of his own dishonor. During their residence

at Carthage, he surprised the two lovers in a subterraneous chamber,

solitary, warm, and almost naked. Anger flashed from his eyes. "With the

help of this young man," said the unblushing Antonina, "I was secreting

our most precious effects from the knowledge of Justinian." The youth

resumed his garments, and the pious husband consented to disbelieve the

evidence of his own senses. From this pleasing and perhaps voluntary

delusion, Belisarius was awakened at Syracuse, by the officious

information of Macedonia; and that female attendant, after requiring an

oath for her security, produced two chamberlains, who, like herself, had

often beheld the adulteries of Antonina. A hasty flight into Asia saved

Theodosius from the justice of an injured husband, who had signified to

one of his guards the order of his death; but the tears of Antonina, and

her artful seductions, assured the credulous hero of her innocence: and

he stooped, against his faith and judgment, to abandon those imprudent

friends, who had presumed to accuse or doubt the chastity of his wife.

The revenge of a guilty woman is implacable and bloody: the unfortunate

Macedonia, with the two witnesses, were secretly arrested by the

minister of her cruelty; their tongues were cut out, their bodies were

hacked into small pieces, and their remains were cast into the Sea of

Syracuse. A rash though judicious saying of Constantine, "I would sooner

have punished the adulteress than the boy," was deeply remembered by

Antonina; and two years afterwards, when despair had armed that officer

against his general, her sanguinary advice decided and hastened his

execution. Even the indignation of Photius was not forgiven by his

mother; the exile of her son prepared the recall of her lover; and

Theodosius condescended to accept the pressing and humble invitation of

the conqueror of Italy. In the absolute direction of his household, and

in the important commissions of peace and war, the favorite youth most

rapidly acquired a fortune of four hundred thousand pounds sterling; and

after their return to Constantinople, the passion of Antonina, at

least, continued ardent and unabated. But fear, devotion, and lassitude

perhaps, inspired Theodosius with more serious thoughts. He dreaded the

busy scandal of the capital, and the indiscreet fondness of the wife of

Belisarius; escaped from her embraces, and retiring to Ephesus, shaved

his head, and took refuge in the sanctuary of a monastic life. The

despair of the new Ariadne could scarcely have been excused by the death

of her husband. She wept, she tore her hair, she filled the palace with

her cries; "she had lost the dearest of friends, a tender, a faithful, a

laborious friend!" But her warm entreaties, fortified by the prayers of

Belisarius, were insufficient to draw the holy monk from the solitude of

Ephesus. It was not till the general moved forward for the Persian war,

that Theodosius could be tempted to return to Constantinople; and the

short interval before the departure of Antonina herself was boldly

devoted to love and pleasure.

A philosopher may pity and forgive the infirmities of female nature,

from which he receives no real injury: but contemptible is the husband

who feels, and yet endures, his own infamy in that of his wife. Antonina

pursued her son with implacable hatred; and the gallant Photius was

exposed to her secret persecutions in the camp beyond the Tigris.

Enraged by his own wrongs, and by the dishonor of his blood, he cast

away in his turn the sentiments of nature, and revealed to Belisarius

the turpitude of a woman who had violated all the duties of a mother

and a wife. From the surprise and indignation of the Roman general, his

former credulity appears to have been sincere: he embraced the knees of

the son of Antonina, adjured him to remember his obligations rather than

his birth, and confirmed at the altar their holy vows of revenge and

mutual defence. The dominion of Antonina was impaired by absence; and

when she met her husband, on his return from the Persian confines,

Belisarius, in his first and transient emotions, confined her person,

and threatened her life. Photius was more resolved to punish, and less

prompt to pardon: he flew to Ephesus; extorted from a trusty eunuch of

his another the full confession of her guilt; arrested Theodosius and

his treasures in the church of St. John the Apostle, and concealed his

captives, whose execution was only delayed, in a secure and sequestered

fortress of Cilicia. Such a daring outrage against public justice could

not pass with impunity; and the cause of Antonina was espoused by the

empress, whose favor she had deserved by the recent services of the

disgrace of a prÊfect, and the exile and murder of a pope. At the end of

the campaign, Belisarius was recalled; he complied, as usual, with

the Imperial mandate. His mind was not prepared for rebellion: his

obedience, however adverse to the dictates of honor, was consonant to

the wishes of his heart; and when he embraced his wife, at the command,

and perhaps in the presence, of the empress, the tender husband was

disposed to forgive or to be forgiven. The bounty of Theodora reserved

for her companion a more precious favor. "I have found," she said, "my

dearest patrician, a pearl of inestimable value; it has not yet been

viewed by any mortal eye; but the sight and the possession of this jewel

are destined for my friend." As soon as the curiosity and impatience

of Antonina were kindled, the door of a bed-chamber was thrown open, and

she beheld her lover, whom the diligence of the eunuchs had discovered

in his secret prison. Her silent wonder burst into passionate

exclamations of gratitude and joy, and she named Theodora her queen, her

benefactress, and her savior. The monk of Ephesus was nourished in the

palace with luxury and ambition; but instead of assuming, as he was

promised, the command of the Roman armies, Theodosius expired in the

first fatigues of an amorous interview. The grief of Antonina could only

be assuaged by the sufferings of her son. A youth of consular rank, and

a sickly constitution, was punished, without a trial, like a malefactor

and a slave: yet such was the constancy of his mind, that Photius

sustained the tortures of the scourge and the rack, without violating

the faith which he had sworn to Belisarius. After this fruitless

cruelty, the son of Antonina, while his mother feasted with the

empress, was buried in her subterraneous prisons, which admitted not

the distinction of night and day. He twice escaped to the most venerable

sanctuaries of Constantinople, the churches of St. Sophia, and of the

Virgin: but his tyrants were insensible of religion as of pity; and the

helpless youth, amidst the clamors of the clergy and people, was twice

dragged from the altar to the dungeon. His third attempt was more

successful. At the end of three years, the prophet Zachariah, or some

mortal friend, indicated the means of an escape: he eluded the spies and

guards of the empress, reached the holy sepulchre of Jerusalem, embraced

the profession of a monk; and the abbot Photius was employed, after the

death of Justinian, to reconcile and regulate the churches of Egypt.

The son of Antonina suffered all that an enemy can inflict: her patient

husband imposed on himself the more exquisite misery of violating his

promise and deserting his friend.

In the succeeding campaign, Belisarius was again sent against the

Persians: he saved the East, but he offended Theodora, and perhaps the

emperor himself. The malady of Justinian had countenanced the rumor of

his death; and the Roman general, on the supposition of that probable

event spoke the free language of a citizen and a soldier. His colleague

Buzes, who concurred in the same sentiments, lost his rank, his liberty,

and his health, by the persecution of the empress: but the disgrace of

Belisarius was alleviated by the dignity of his own character, and the

influence of his wife, who might wish to humble, but could not desire to

ruin, the partner of her fortunes. Even his removal was colored by the

assurance, that the sinking state of Italy would be retrieved by the

single presence of its conqueror. But no sooner had he returned, alone

and defenceless, than a hostile commission was sent to the East, to

seize his treasures and criminate his actions; the guards and veterans,

who followed his private banner, were distributed among the chiefs of

the army, and even the eunuchs presumed to cast lots for the partition

of his martial domestics. When he passed with a small and sordid retinue

through the streets of Constantinople, his forlorn appearance excited

the amazement and compassion of the people. Justinian and Theodora

received him with cold ingratitude; the servile crowd, with insolence

and contempt; and in the evening he retired with trembling steps to

his deserted palace. An indisposition, feigned or real, had confined

Antonina to her apartment; and she walked disdainfully silent in

the adjacent portico, while Belisarius threw himself on his bed, and

expected, in an agony of grief and terror, the death which he had so

often braved under the walls of Rome. Long after sunset a messenger

was announced from the empress: he opened, with anxious curiosity, the

letter which contained the sentence of his fate. "You cannot be ignorant

how much you have deserved my displeasure. I am not insensible of the

services of Antonina. To her merits and intercession I have granted your

life, and permit you to retain a part of your treasures, which might be

justly forfeited to the state. Let your gratitude, where it is due, be

displayed, not in words, but in your future behavior." I know not how to

believe or to relate the transports with which the hero is said to have

received this ignominious pardon. He fell prostrate before his wife,

he kissed the feet of his savior, and he devoutly promised to live the

grateful and submissive slave of Antonina. A fine of one hundred

and twenty thousand pounds sterling was levied on the fortunes of

Belisarius; and with the office of count, or master of the royal

stables, he accepted the conduct of the Italian war. At his departure

from Constantinople, his friends, and even the public, were persuaded

that as soon as he regained his freedom, he would renounce his

dissimulation, and that his wife, Theodora, and perhaps the emperor

himself, would be sacrificed to the just revenge of a virtuous rebel.

Their hopes were deceived; and the unconquerable patience and loyalty of

Belisarius appear either _below_ or _above_ the character of a man.

Chapter XLII: State Of The Barbaric World.--Part I.

State Of The Barbaric World.--Establishment Of The Lombards

On the Danube.--Tribes And Inroads Of The Sclavonians.--

Origin, Empire, And Embassies Of The Turks.--The Flight Of

The Avars.--Chosroes I, Or Nushirvan, King Of Persia.--His

Prosperous Reign And Wars With The Romans.--The Colchian Or

Lazic War.--The ∆thiopians.

Our estimate of personal merit, is relative to the common faculties of

mankind. The aspiring efforts of genius, or virtue, either in active or

speculative life, are measured, not so much by their real elevation,

as by the height to which they ascend above the level of their age and

country; and the same stature, which in a people of giants would pass

unnoticed, must appear conspicuous in a race of pygmies. Leonidas, and

his three hundred companions, devoted their lives at ThermopylÊ; but the

education of the infant, the boy, and the man, had prepared, and almost

insured, this memorable sacrifice; and each Spartan would approve,

rather than admire, an act of duty, of which himself and eight thousand

of his fellow-citizens were equally capable. The great Pompey might

inscribe on his trophies, that he had defeated in battle two millions of

enemies, and reduced fifteen hundred cities from the Lake MÊotis to the

Red Sea: but the fortune of Rome flew before his eagles; the nations

were oppressed by their own fears, and the invincible legions which he

commanded, had been formed by the habits of conquest and the discipline

of ages. In this view, the character of Belisarius may be deservedly

placed above the heroes of the ancient republics. His imperfections

flowed from the contagion of the times; his virtues were his own, the

free gift of nature or reflection; he raised himself without a master or

a rival; and so inadequate were the arms committed to his hand, that

his sole advantage was derived from the pride and presumption of his

adversaries. Under his command, the subjects of Justinian often deserved

to be called Romans: but the unwarlike appellation of Greeks was imposed

as a term of reproach by the haughty Goths; who affected to blush,

that they must dispute the kingdom of Italy with a nation of tragedians

pantomimes, and pirates. The climate of Asia has indeed been found

less congenial than that of Europe to military spirit: those populous

countries were enervated by luxury, despotism, and superstition; and

the monks were more expensive and more numerous than the soldiers of the

East. The regular force of the empire had once amounted to six hundred

and forty-five thousand men: it was reduced, in the time of Justinian,

to one hundred and fifty thousand; and this number, large as it may

seem, was thinly scattered over the sea and land; in Spain and Italy, in

Africa and Egypt, on the banks of the Danube, the coast of the Euxine,

and the frontiers of Persia. The citizen was exhausted, yet the soldier

was unpaid; his poverty was mischievously soothed by the privilege

of rapine and indolence; and the tardy payments were detained and

intercepted by the fraud of those agents who usurp, without courage or

danger, the emoluments of war. Public and private distress recruited the

armies of the state; but in the field, and still more in the presence

of the enemy, their numbers were always defective. The want of national

spirit was supplied by the precarious faith and disorderly service of

Barbarian mercenaries. Even military honor, which has often survived the

loss of virtue and freedom, was almost totally extinct. The generals,

who were multiplied beyond the example of former times, labored only to

prevent the success, or to sully the reputation of their colleagues; and

they had been taught by experience, that if merit sometimes provoked

the jealousy, error, or even guilt, would obtain the indulgence, of

a gracious emperor. In such an age, the triumphs of Belisarius, and

afterwards of Narses, shine with incomparable lustre; but they are

encompassed with the darkest shades of disgrace and calamity. While the

lieutenant of Justinian subdued the kingdoms of the Goths and Vandals,

the emperor, timid, though ambitious, balanced the forces of the

Barbarians, fomented their divisions by flattery and falsehood, and

invited by his patience and liberality the repetition of injuries. The

keys of Carthage, Rome, and Ravenna, were presented to their conqueror,

while Antioch was destroyed by the Persians, and Justinian trembled for

the safety of Constantinople.

Even the Gothic victories of Belisarius were prejudicial to the state,

since they abolished the important barrier of the Upper Danube, which

had been so faithfully guarded by Theodoric and his daughter. For the

defence of Italy, the Goths evacuated Pannonia and Noricum, which

they left in a peaceful and flourishing condition: the sovereignty

was claimed by the emperor of the Romans; the actual possession was

abandoned to the boldness of the first invader. On the opposite banks of

the Danube, the plains of Upper Hungary and the Transylvanian hills were

possessed, since the death of Attila, by the tribes of the GepidÊ, who

respected the Gothic arms, and despised, not indeed the gold of the

Romans, but the secret motive of their annual subsidies. The vacant

fortifications of the river were instantly occupied by these Barbarians;

their standards were planted on the walls of Sirmium and Belgrade; and

the ironical tone of their apology aggravated this insult on the majesty

of the empire. "So extensive, O CÊsar, are your dominions, so numerous

are your cities, that you are continually seeking for nations to whom,

either in peace or in war, you may relinquish these useless possessions.

The GepidÊ are your brave and faithful allies; and if they have

anticipated your gifts, they have shown a just confidence in your

bounty." Their presumption was excused by the mode of revenge which

Justinian embraced. Instead of asserting the rights of a sovereign for

the protection of his subjects, the emperor invited a strange people to

invade and possess the Roman provinces between the Danube and the Alps

and the ambition of the GepidÊ was checked by the rising power and

fame of the Lombards. This corrupt appellation has been diffused in the

thirteenth century by the merchants and bankers, the Italian posterity

of these savage warriors: but the original name of _Langobards_ is

expressive only of the peculiar length and fashion of their beards. I am

not disposed either to question or to justify their Scandinavian origin;

nor to pursue the migrations of the Lombards through unknown regions and

marvellous adventures. About the time of Augustus and Trajan, a ray of

historic light breaks on the darkness of their antiquities, and they are

discovered, for the first time, between the Elbe and the Oder. Fierce,

beyond the example of the Germans, they delighted to propagate the

tremendous belief, that their heads were formed like the heads of dogs,

and that they drank the blood of their enemies, whom they vanquished in

battle. The smallness of their numbers was recruited by the adoption of

their bravest slaves; and alone, amidst their powerful neighbors, they

defended by arms their high-spirited independence. In the tempests of

the north, which overwhelmed so many names and nations, this little bark

of the Lombards still floated on the surface: they gradually descended

towards the south and the Danube, and, at the end of four hundred years,

they again appear with their ancient valor and renown. Their manners

were not less ferocious. The assassination of a royal guest was executed

in the presence, and by the command, of the king's daughter, who

had been provoked by some words of insult, and disappointed by his

diminutive stature; and a tribute, the price of blood, was imposed on

the Lombards, by his brother the king of the Heruli. Adversity revived

a sense of moderation and justice, and the insolence of conquest was

chastised by the signal defeat and irreparable dispersion of the Heruli,

who were seated in the southern provinces of Poland. The victories of

the Lombards recommended them to the friendship of the emperors; and

at the solicitations of Justinian, they passed the Danube, to reduce,

according to their treaty, the cities of Noricum and the fortresses of

Pannonia. But the spirit of rapine soon tempted them beyond these

ample limits; they wandered along the coast of the Hadriatic as far as

Dyrrachium, and presumed, with familiar rudeness to enter the towns and

houses of their Roman allies, and to seize the captives who had escaped

from their audacious hands. These acts of hostility, the sallies, as

it might be pretended, of some loose adventurers, were disowned by the

nation, and excused by the emperor; but the arms of the Lombards

were more seriously engaged by a contest of thirty years, which was

terminated only by the extirpation of the GepidÊ. The hostile nations

often pleaded their cause before the throne of Constantinople; and the

crafty Justinian, to whom the Barbarians were almost equally odious,

pronounced a partial and ambiguous sentence, and dexterously protracted

the war by slow and ineffectual succors. Their strength was formidable,

since the Lombards, who sent into the field several _myriads_ of

soldiers, still claimed, as the weaker side, the protection of the

Romans. Their spirit was intrepid; yet such is the uncertainty of

courage, that the two armies were suddenly struck with a panic; they

fled from each other, and the rival kings remained with their guards

in the midst of an empty plain. A short truce was obtained; but their

mutual resentment again kindled; and the remembrance of their shame

rendered the next encounter more desperate and bloody Forty thousand of

the Barbarians perished in the decisive battle, which broke the power

of the GepidÊ, transferred the fears and wishes of Justinian, and first

displayed the character of Alboin, the youthful prince of the Lombards,

and the future conqueror of Italy.

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