Given the month, I am mindful of a February nearly 1,500 years ago when Belisarius, newly arrived in Rome after the withdrawal of the Gothic garrison, found his situation far from secure. The Roman citizens, who had welcomed his arrival with glad tidings, now began to suspect that their savior was not intent on pushing on to face the Goths in a decisive battle. Worse, the army of Belisarius that had liberated Rome was not some overwhelming force—far from it. An optimistic observer might have counted their number at 5,000.
Such an army could not be expected to inflict an open-field defeat upon the vast Gothic hosts of Vitiges, the self-styled King of the Goths and Italians. Worse, it was not even sufficient to guard the 12-mile long circuit walls of Rome in the event of Gothic attack.
With these facts clear to even the most obtuse citizen, the Senate of Rome, still largely intact despite over sixty years of Gothic rule, watched with trepidation as Belisarius and his men began repairing the crumbling fortifications of Rome. The great walls which surrounded the city had been constructed 250 years before by the emperor Aurelian. Though imposing, these fortifications were ruinous and vulnerable in many locations, and Belisarius assiduously set about restoring them. Some of his innovations—such as adding a merlon to each battlement to protect the backs of the defenders—left the Romans impressed. Yet they remained deeply troubled by what these preparations presaged. As Procopius relates:
The Romans applauded the forethought of the general and especially the experience displayed in the matter of the battlement; but they marveled greatly and were vexed that he should have thought it possible for him to enter Rome if he had any idea that he would be besieged, for [Rome] can not possibly be supplied with provisions since it is not on the sea, is enclosed by a wall of so large a circumference, and above all, lying as it does on a level plain, is naturally exceedingly easy of access for its assailants. [Procopius, History of the Wars, Book V, Chapter XIV]
Procopius goes on to say that Belisarius heard all the criticisms of his strategy but redoubled his efforts, even compelling the indignant Romans to bring in all their provisions from the countryside.
In his novel, Count Belisarius, Robert Graves puts the discontent of the Roman citizens over the strategy of Belisarius into the mouth of Pope Silverius. In this, he plants the seed of the conflict that would later emerge between the Pope and the household of Belisarius. Given Graves's rather negative view of the Catholic Church which is evident throughout Count Belisarius, I have always disliked this approach.
In my third book, Belisarius: Rome the Eternal, I have opted to expand this discontent into a scene in which the Roman senators and clergy confront Belisarius at the Lateran Palace, taking the opportunity to work in some history lessons. Rather than using the scene to create conflict between the spiritual and temporal powers in Rome, I have attempted to show how Belisarius turned the situation to his favor, enhancing the loyalty of the doubtful Roman senators who were pretty clearly having second-thoughts at this time immediately before the commencement of the siege.
Here is part of the scene. I have added a few notes in red, if for no other reason than to remind myself of why the individuals named are present. See what you think:
...“Forgive the interruption, O General,” Fidelius said, bowing slightly. “All are now present. And here is Honorius, prefect of the city. Allow me to present him first.”“At your service,” mumbled Honorius bowing.
“Ah, here is a man I am anxious to meet,” said Belisarius, raising the prefect up by his hand. “I am told you have a crew at your disposal whose purpose it is to repair public monuments and buildings. Is that correct?”
“Certainly. Three hundred men, no less,” Honorius bellowed in response. “Granted, some are slaves, but all have strong backs and are skilled in metalcraft and stonework. For the past months, they have been restoring the great bronze elephants along the Via Sacra, for this was our final order from Theodatus the tyrant.” [This is taken directly from the Variae of Cassiodorus, Book X, Letter 30]
“Laudable as that work may be, I must conscript all of your men starting tomorrow morning. Restoring the fortifications must take immediate precedence over all other construction work in the city,” Belisarius explained. “Let them know that they will be well paid for their labors.”
“Yes, that is something that puzzles us, Magister, if I may,” senator Gennadius Orestes spoke up with a slight chuckle. “Perhaps it is my fatalistic nature getting the better of me, but it almost seems as if you are preparing Rome for a siege.” [Gennadius Orestes was a Roman Senator who was Consul in AD 530]
“But we know that cannot be,” the elderly senator Anicius Basilius added. “Anyone who has studied the history of Rome knows that the city cannot be defended effectively without a great army, several legions at least. The walls are too long, the supply lines impossible to protect, the civilian population too huge. And your men, regrettably, are too few.” [Anicius Basilius was a Roman senator who would later be named consul by Justinian in AD 541]
“That brings us to another question, Magister,” senator Cethegus boomed in his pompous oratorical voice. “Where is your army? Surely, the skeleton crew that marched into the city with you is but the advance guard. When should we expect to see the rest?” [Nicomachus Cethegus was consul in Rome under the Gothic king, Theodoric the Great, in AD 504. He would later flee to Constantinople and play a role in the discord between Justinian and Pope Vigilius.]
Belisarius scowled slightly and scanned the faces gathered about him. It was time to deliver some hard truths to these men, many of whom had grown used to security and prosperity under the long reign of Theodoric. He wasn’t sure how they’d stomach what he had to offer them—the gloomy trio of hardship, want, and a desperate struggle.
“Noble senators, the rest of my army is scattered throughout Sicily and southern Italy. Just as I have brought the core of my forces here to guard Rome, so the remainder secure Neapolis, Cumae, Beneventum, Rhegium, Syracuse, Panormus and a score of other cities. Yes, it is my intention to hold Rome in safety against all attacks by the Goths. If that means enduring a siege, then endure it we must.”
An outcry immediately erupted from the assembled politicians.
“Your men are five thousand at most!” tall Cethegus cried. “You cannot hold the city with so few. It is impossible!”
“Do you not realize, O Magister, that this Vitiges whom the Goths call king, can muster an army of myriads upon myriads?” Orestes shouted. “If you attempt to defend Rome against the full power of the Goths, you will bring upon us destruction that will make the sacks of Alaric and Gaiseric seem like the Saturnalia. Olympius could not defend Rome from the Visigoths despite his lofty name. Petronius Maximus failed utterly to thwart the Vandals despite the greatest blessings of holy Peter. What hope have you, then, to repulse such a force when these others have failed with more resources at their disposal?”
“Peace, senators, peace!” Pope Silverius commanded in a loud voice, but few took heed even among the clergy who had joined the tumult.
Belisarius said nothing, but let the assembled men grumble, rant and vent their frustration. Wearing on his face a look of stoic dispassion, he weathered their rage like some craggy rock in a howling tempest.
Minutes more of clamorous outrage passed during which the expression on the face of Belisarius softened not at all but grew only harder, and it suddenly dawned upon the senators that he would not engage in debate with them. Soon they grew quiet, looking upon him in astonishment, wondering whether their outburst would ultimately elicit a reaction of anger or capitulation from the Magister Militum of Roman Empire, the right hand of the emperor Justinian.
“What say you, O General?” Honorius the prefect ventured, now feeling empowered by the near unanimity of the nobles. “Will you not—ahem—reveal to us your plans for defending Rome and defeating—uh—our enemies?”
Leaping up onto a low platform surrounding a fountain in the middle of the courtyard so that he could better be seen and heard, Belisarius began:
“It is not for you to know my plans, O Senators, for what fool of a general announces his intentions to the wide world? But I will say this: if you compare me with Olympius or Petronius Maximus you do me a great wrong. As you well know, Olympius of ill fame, took the administration of Rome after plotting the disgraceful murder of Stilicho, the greatest warrior of his age, who fearlessly defended the Empire. [Stilicho was the Master of Soldiers and principal support of the Western Emperor Honorius, assassinated in AD 408. Rome would be sacked by Alaric two years later.]
"In the same way, Petronius Maximus proved himself only the greatest of traitors, seeking ascendancy for himself by the assassination of Aetius, a general of such excellence that even the hordes of Attila quailed before him. [Aetius was the Master of Soldiers under the Western Emperor Valentinian III. He defeated Attila at the Battle of the Catalaunian Plains in Gaul in AD 451, but was assassinated following a court intrigue three years later. Soon after, Rome would be sacked again by Gaiseric.]
"Both Aetius and Stilicho feared not death and indeed preferred it to surrender to the enemies of the Empire. Both were ultimately undone not by lack of military prowess, but by short-sighted politicians bent on amassing power and fortune.
“Let us recall these events of a century ago with shame, for we have five-score years of gloomy hindsight to remind us where they led—defeat and fear, sack and slaughter, domination and ruin. But now this will change. I come before you not as a politician or as a bureaucrat, but as a soldier and servant of Justinian Augustus, most happy and victorious emperor of the Romans. I hereby pledge my life to your safety. If during the coming storm you suffer, know that I will suffer before you. If you are injured, know that the enemy will have to knock me down to get at you. If you are in peril of death, know that I will share that peril every day until the peril is gone. As Stilicho and Aetius, I do not fear my own destruction, but I will put everything I have on the line to protect Rome from our enemies.”
In stunned silence, the assembled nobles and clergy listened, amazed that this man whom they considered an unlettered Thracian was more knowledgeable in their own history than most of them. A smile brightened the wrinkled face of Anicius Basilius, and Orestes’s cynical scowl turned to a look of delighted stupefaction.
“You see that my army is small,” Belisarius continued, “but what you do not see is that it is filled with men of the greatest courage. I have, furthermore, requested reinforcements from the thrice-blessed Justinian Augustus, and these he will supply after no little time. But, noble senators and holy fathers, no strategy designed by a man can succeed without trust and ultimately obedience. I have no concerns in this regard when it comes to my soldiers. I know that they are loyal and will, when called upon, sacrifice their lives for the safety of Rome. Thus, the success or failure of this enterprise depends ultimately on the Will of God and on you, the inhabitants of this city. If you will support my efforts, trust my decisions, and obey my commands, there is no question in my mind that we will attain victory.
"If, however, you doubt, despair, demur and disobey, there can be only one result: death for me, defeat for the cause, and destruction for Rome.
“Friends, one year ago, no one believed that Justinian Augustus could liberate Rome. And yet, here I stand before you having accomplished the deed. Will you support me now in preserving the victory? Will you trust me?”
“Magister, please,” Basilius said quietly. “Please step down.” Belisarius stepped from the platform onto the flagstones of the courtyard. Now at eye-level, Basilius grasped Belisarius’s hand and fell to one knee, his aged frame tottering slightly. “You have my trust.”
“I will trust you as well, O Magister,” Orestes said solemnly, repeating the gesture of the older man.
“And I,” Cethegus said humbly.
“As for me, my life already belongs to Justinian Augustus,” Fidelius said with a smile.
The rest of the nobles crowded around to show similar obeisance. Belisarius accepted it, knowing well the sacrifices he would soon demand of these men.
“Command us,” Honorius the prefect said. “Whatever you would have us do, it will be done.”
“I shall confer with my commanders,” Belisarius replied. “Come to the Pincian at first light tomorrow morning.”
“And what of the clergy, Magister?” Pope Silverius asked. “How would you have us serve the people of Rome to aid this endeavor?”
“Far be it from me to advise your Holiness on how best to provide for your flock,” Belisarius replied. “Only do not disrupt the normal cycle of liturgies, feasts and processions in the city. And keep me informed as to the wants of the poor. I will do my utmost to ameliorate their travails.”
Rome the Eternal is deep in the edits, so feel free to hit me with criticisms of this scene if you feel the urge. My expectation is that edits and some incidental interior art will complete in March, and this book will finally make it into print after over a decade of work.
