In the year 544, Totila, king of the Goths, and master of part of
Italy, formed the blockade of Rome, and kept the passages so well, that
no provisions could be got in, either by land or sea. He stopped the
entrance by the Tiber at a place where its bed was narrowest, by means
of extraordinarily long beams of timber, laid from one bank to the
other, upon which he raised, at the two extremities, towers of wood,
which were filled with soldiers. The famine soon became so horrible,
that wheat was sold at seven pieces of gold per bushel, which is nearly
ninety shillings of our money, and bran at about a quarter of the sum;
an ox, taken in a sortie, was sold at an unheard-of price. Fortunate
was the man who could fall in with a dead horse, and take undisputed
possession of it! Dogs, rats, and the most impure animals, soon
became exquisite and eagerly-purchased dainties. Most of the citizens
supported themselves upon nettles and wild herbs, which they tore from
the foot of the walls and ruined buildings. Rome seemed to be only
inhabited by pale, fleshless, livid phantoms, who either fell dead in
the streets or killed themselves.
A father of five children, who demanded bread of him with piercing
cries, told them to follow him, and for a moment concealing his grief
in the depths of his heart, without shedding a tear, without breathing
a sigh, he led them on to one of the bridges of the city; there, after
enveloping his head in his cloak, he precipitated himself into the
Tiber in their presence.
That which was most frightful in this extremity of misery, was the
fact that the leaders themselves were the cause of the public want:
they devoured the citizens by their sordid avarice. The immense
masses of wheat, which they had been a long time collecting, were
only distributed at their weight in gold; and very shortly most of
the wealth of Rome was concentrated amongst monsters, worthy of the
severest punishment.
Belisarius, whose generous spirit mourned over the misfortunes of
Rome, attempted all sorts of means to succour the unfortunate capital.
He caused a large number of barks to be constructed, furnished with
boarding all round, to protect the soldiers from the arrows of the
enemy. These boards were pierced at certain distances, to afford
facility for launching their own bolts and arrows. He caused these
barks to be laden with great quantities of provisions, placed himself
at the head of them, and, leading with some fire-boats, he ascended the
Tiber, and set fire to one of the enemy’s towers. But his enterprise
not being seconded, he could not succeed in throwing provisions into
the city; grief at his failure produced a sickness which brought him
to the brink of the grave. Some Isaurian soldiers, who guarded the
gate Asinaria, having slipped along the ramparts in the night by means
of a cord, came and offered Totila to give up the city to him. The
king having assured himself of their fidelity, and of the possibility
of the enterprise, sent with them four of the bravest and strongest
Goths, who, having got into the city, opened a gate and admitted the
besiegers. Bessus, who commanded in the place, fled away with his
troops at the first alarm. In the house of this governor were found
heaps of gold and silver, the fruits of his cruel monopolies.
At daybreak the king of the Goths repaired to the church of St.
Peter, to return thanks to God for his success. The deacon Pelagius,
who awaited him at the entrance of the holy temple, prostrated
himself humbly before him, and implored him to save the lives of the
inhabitants. Totila, who knew how to pardon as well as to conquer,
granted the sacred minister what he asked, and forbade his soldiers,
under the strongest penalties, to shed the blood of any one. When this
order was given, the Goths had already slain twenty soldiers and sixty
citizens. These were the only victims of the brutality of the victors;
but if he spared the lives of the inhabitants, he deprived them of
all means to support them. Rome was abandoned to pillage for several
days, and nothing was left to the citizens but the bare walls of their
houses. Senators, formerly opulent and proud, were seen covered with
miserable rags, reduced to beg their bread from door to door, and live
upon the alms they received from the barbarians.
Totila was preparing to demolish Rome; he had already levelled a third
of the walls, and was about to set fire to the most superb edifices of
the city, when he received a letter from Belisarius, which diverted him
from his design. “To found cities,” said this great man, “to maintain
flourishing cities, is to serve society and immortalize ourselves; to
overthrow and destroy them, is to declare ourselves the enemies of
mankind, and dishonour ourselves for ever. By the agreement of all
peoples, the city into which you have entered, in consequence of your
victory, is the greatest and most magnificent under heaven. It is not
the work of a single man, or a single army. During more than thirteen
centuries, a long line of kings, consuls, and emperors have disputed
the glory of embellishing it, and the superb edifices it presents to
your eyes are so many monuments which consecrate their memories; to
destroy them is to outrage the past centuries, of which they eternize
the remembrance, and to deprive future ages of a magnificent spectacle.
My lord, reflect that fortune must declare itself in favour of you or
my master. If you remain the conqueror, how you will regret having
destroyed your most splendid conquest! If you should succumb, the
treatment you have inflicted upon Rome will serve as a rule by which
Justinian will treat you. The eyes of the universe are upon you;
it awaits the part you are about to take, to accord you the title
which will be for ever attached to the name of Totila.” Persuaded by
this eloquent appeal, the king of the Goths contented himself with
depopulating the city of Rome, in which he did not leave a single
inhabitant.
Forty days after the retreat of Totila, Belisarius transported himself
to Rome, with the design of repeopling that famous city, and repairing
its ruins. He soon put it in a state to sustain a new siege. Upon
learning this, the king of the Goths quickly returned, and during three
days made several attacks upon the city; but Belisarius repulsed them
all, and forced him to retire with great loss.