ROME BELEAGUERED
A few days later the guards at the Tiburtine Gate of Rome were hailed,
before dawn, by a number of Greek soldiers in the disarray of flight.
It was a portion of the garrison of Tibur: the town had been betrayed
at sunset, by certain of its inhabitants who watched at one of the
gates. The soldiers fought their way through and most of them escaped,
and had fled hither through the darkness. Before the end of the day
came news more terrible. A peasant from a neighbouring farm declared
that all the people of Tibur, men, women, and children, had perished
under the Gothic sword, not even ministers of religion having found
mercy. And very soon this report, at first doubted, was fully
confirmed. The event excited no less astonishment than horror,
contrasting as it did with Totila's humanity throughout the war. Some
offered as explanation the fact that many Goths lived at Tibur, whose
indifference or hostility had angered the king; others surmised that
this was Totila's warning after the failure of his proclamation to the
Romans. Whatever the meaning of such unwonted severity, its effect upon
the Romans was unfavourable to the Gothic cause. Just about this time
there happened to arrive two captains, sent by Belisarius with a small
troop for the reinforcement of Bessas. The addition to the strength of
the garrison was inconsiderable, but it served to put the city in heart
once more. The Patricius himself would not be long in coming, and when
did the name of Belisarius sound anything but victory?
This confidence increased when Totila, instead of marching upon Rome,
as all had expected, turned in the opposite direction, and led his
forces across the Apennines. The gates were thrown open; the citizens
resumed their ordinary life, saying to each other that all fear of a
siege was at an end; and when certain ships from Sicily, having by good
luck escaped the Gothic galleys, landed a good supply of corn, there
was great exultation. True, only a scanty measure of this food reached
the populace, and that chiefly by the good offices of the archdeacon
Pelagius, now become as dear to the people as Pope Vigilius was
hateful; the granaries were held by Bessas, who first of all fed his
soldiers, and then sold at a great price. As winter went on, the Romans
suffered much. And with the spring came disquieting news of Totila's
successes northwards: the towns of Picenum had yielded to him; he was
moving once more in this direction; he captured Spoletium, Assisium,
and still came on.
Belisarius, meanwhile, had crossed to Italy, and was encamped at
Ravenna. Why, asked the Romans, impatiently, anxiously, did he not
march to meet the Gothic king? But the better informed knew that his
army was miserably insufficient; they heard of his ceaseless appeals to
Byzantium, of his all but despair in finding himself without money,
without men, in the land which but a few years ago had seen his glory.
Would the Emperor take no thought for Italy, for Rome? Bessas, with
granaries well stored, and his palace heaped with Roman riches,
shrugged when the nobles spoke disrespectfully of Justinian; his only
loyalty was to himself.
At high summertide, the Gothic camp was pitched before Rome, and the
siege anticipated for so many months had at length begun. For whatever
reason, Totila had never attempted to possess himself of Portus, which
guarded the mouth of the river Tiber on the north bank and alone made
possible the provisioning of the city. Fearing that this stronghold
would now be attacked, Bessas despatched a body of soldiers to
strengthen its garrison; but they fell into a Gothic ambush, and were
cut to pieces. Opposite Portus, and separated from it by a desert
island, on either side of which Tiber flowed to the sea, lay the
ancient town of Ostia, once the port of the world's traffic, now
ruinous and scarce inhabited. Here Totila established an outpost; but
he did not otherwise threaten the harbour on the other side. His
purpose evidently was to avoid all conflict which would risk a
reduction of the Gothic army, and by patient blockade to starve the
Romans into surrender.
He could not surround the city, with its circuit of twelve miles; he
could not keep ceaseless watch upon the sixteen gates and the numerous
posterns. King Vitiges, in his attempt to do so, had suffered terrible
losses. It was inevitable that folk should pass in and out of Rome. But
from inland no supplies could be expected by the besieged, and any ship
sailing up to Portus would have little chance of landing its cargo
safely. Before long, indeed, this was put to proof. The Pope, whose
indecision still kept him lingering in Sicily, nearly a twelvemonth
after his departure from Rome for Constantinople, freighted a vessel
with corn for the relief of the city, and its voyage was uninterrupted
as far as the Tiber's mouth. There it became an object of interest, not
only to the Greeks on the walls of Portus, but to the Gothic soldiers
at. Ostia, who forthwith crossed in little boats, and lay awaiting the
ship at the entrance to the haven. Observant of this stratagem, the
garrison, by all manner of signalling, tried to warn the sailors of the
danger awaiting them; but their signals were misunderstood, being taken
for gestures of eager welcome; and the ship came on. With that lack of
courage which characterised them, the Greeks did nothing more than wave
arms and shout: under their very eyes, the corn-ship was boarded by the
Goths, and taken into Ostia.
Of courage, indeed, as of all other soldierly virtues, little enough
was exhibited, at this stage of the war, on either side. The Imperial
troops scattered about Italy, ill-paid, and often starving mercenaries
from a score of Oriental countries, saw no one ready to lead them to
battle, and the one Byzantine general capable of commanding called
vainly for an army. Wearied by marchings and counter-marchings, the
Gothic warriors were more disposed to rest awhile after their easy
conquests than to make a vigorous effort for the capture of Rome.
Totila himself, heroic redeemer of his nation, turned anxious glances
towards Ravenna, hoping, rather than resolving, to hold his state upon
the Palatine before Belisarius could advance against him. He felt the
fatigue of those about him, and it was doubtless under the stress of
such a situation, bearing himself the whole burden of the war, that he
had ordered, or permitted, barbarous revenge upon the city of Tibur.
For this reason he would not, even now, centre all his attention upon
the great siege; he knew what a long, dispiriting business it was
likely to be, and feared to fall into that comparative idleness. Soon
after the incident of the Sicilian corn-ship, he was once more
commanding in the north, where a few cities yet held out against him.
Dreadful stories were told concerning the siege of Placentia, whose
inhabitants were said to have eaten the bodies of their dead ere they
yielded to the Goth. So stern a spirit of resistance was found only in
places where religious zeal and national sentiment both existed in
their utmost vigour, and Totila well knew that, of these two forces
ever threatening to make his conquests vain, it was from religion that
he had most to fear. In vain was the history of Gothic tolerance known
throughout Italy; it created no corresponding virtue in the bosom of
Catholicism; the barbaric origin of the Goths might be forgotten or
forgiven, their heresy--never.
Totila, whose qualities of heart and mind would have made him, could he
but have ruled in peace, a worthy successor of the great Theodoric, had
reflected much on this question of the hostile creeds; he had talked of
it with ministers of his own faith and with those of the orthodox
church; and it was on this account that he had sought an interview with
the far-famed monk of Casinum. Understanding the futility of any hope
that the Italians might be won to Arianism, and having sufficient
largeness of intellect to perceive how idle was a debate concerning the
'substance' of the Father and of the Son, Totila must at times have
felt willing enough to renounce the heretical name, and so win favour
of the Italians, the greater part of whom would assuredly have
preferred his rule to that of the Emperor Justinian. But he knew the
religious obstinacy of his own people; to imagine their following him
in a conversion to Catholicism was but to dream. Pondering thus, he
naturally regarded with indulgence the beautiful and gentle Gothic
maiden delivered into his power by a scheming Roman ecclesiastic. After
his conversations with Veranilda, he had a pensive air; and certain
persons who observed him remarked on it to each other, whence arose the
rumour that Totila purposed taking to wife this last descendant of the
Amals. Whatever his temptations, he quickly overcame them. If ever he
thought of marriage, policy and ambition turned his mind towards the
royal Franks; but the time for that had not yet come. Meanwhile, having
spoken with the young Roman whom Veranilda loved, he saw in Basil a
useful instrument, and resolved, if his loyalty to the Goths bore every
test, to reward him with Veranilda's hand. The marriage would be of
good example, and might, if the Gothic arms remained triumphant, lead
to other such.
After the meeting at Hadrian's villa which he granted to the lovers,
Totila summoned Basil to his presence. Regarding him with a
good-natured smile, he said pleasantly:
'Your face has a less doleful cast than when I first saw it.'
'That,' answered Basil, 'is due in no small degree to the gracious
favour of my king.'
'Continue to merit my esteem, lord Basil, and proof of my good-will
shall not be wanting. But the time for repose and solace is not yet.
To-morrow you will go with Venantius to Capua, and thence, it may be,
into Apulia.'
Basil bowed in silence. He had hoped that the siege of Rome was now to
be undertaken, and that this would ensure his remaining near to
Veranilda. But the loyalty he professed to Totila was no less in his
heart than on his lips, and after a moment's struggle he looked up with
calm countenance.
'Have you aught to ask of me?' added Totila, after observing his face.
'This only, O king: that if occasion offer, I may send written news of
myself to her I love.'
'That is a little thing,' was the answer, 'and I grant it willingly.'
Totila paused a moment; then, his blue eyes shining with a vehement
thought, added gravely:
'When we speak together within the walls of Rome, ask more, and it
shall not be refused.'
So Basil rode southward, and happily was far away when Tibur opened its
gates to the Goth. For more than half a year he and Venantius were busy
in maintaining the Gothic rule throughout Lucania and Apulia, where
certain Roman nobles endeavoured to raise an army of the peasantry in
aid of the Greek invasion constantly expected upon the Adriatic shore.
When at length he was recalled, the siege of Rome had begun. The Gothic
ladies now resided at Tibur, where a garrison was established; there
Basil and Veranilda again met, and again only for an hour. But their
hopes were high, and scarce could they repine at the necessity of
parting so soon. Already in a letter, Basil had spoken of the king's
promise; he now repeated it, whilst Veranilda flushed with happiness.
'And you remain before Rome?' she asked.
'Alas, no! I am sent to Ravenna, to spy out the strength of Belisarius.'
But Rome was besieged, and so hateful had Bessas made himself to the
Roman people that it could not be long ere some plot among them
delivered the city.
'Then,' cried Basil exultantly, 'I shall ask my reward.'