Count Belisarius

CHAPTER 13

CONSIDER the matter from the Gothic point of view. What danger could they reasonably fear from a mere 12,000 men, a large part of whom were infantry? Italy was theirs, and they had been living on the friendliest terms with the native population for two generations. They had plentiful supplies of food, and a fleet and money and military stores; they could easily put 100,000 horsemen into the field and 100,000 foot-archers; they possessed a number of very strong walled cities. Add to this that the Imperial troops who had landed in Sicily, though professedly champions of the Orthodox faith, were for the most part Christians only by courtesy, and could not even make themselves understood by the native Italians, who spoke Latin, not Greek; and you will understand that when the Goths heard of the African mutiny and of the death of Mundus they no longer considered the name of Belisarius to be a serious factor in the situation.

To tell of the mutiny. It broke out at Easter of the following year, the year of our Lord 536. A few days later Solomon landed at Syracuse from an open boat with a few exhausted companions, and stumbled up from the quay to Belisarius's headquarters in the Governor's Palace. It so happened, that afternoon, that I was in a small room with my mistress and Belisarius and Theodosius, where we had retired after luncheon, and something not unlike an argument was in progress. Theodosius had made a rather too pointed joke at the expense of some tenet of the Orthodox faith, to the amusement of my mistress Antonina.

Belisarius did not smile, but asked Theodosius in a puzzled way whether he had relapsed to Eunomianism.

'No,' replied Theodosius. 'Indeed, I never held that opinion seriously.'

'Well. But since you have become converted to true doctrine I do not understand why you should joke as you do.'

Antonina defended Theodosius: she said that to laugh at the things that one held dear was not inconsistent with loyalty to them. When Belisarius disagreed, she changed from defence to attack, and asked him why, if Orthodoxy meant so much to him, he allowed heretics of every variety to enlist in his Household Regiment.

Belisarius answered: 'That is another matter altogether. Every man has a right to what religious beliefs he pleases, and a duty to himself not to be persuaded from them by force; but he has no right to injure his neighbour's sensibilities by asserting such beliefs offensively. I was born in the Orthodox faith, and early pledged myself to it. It offends me to hear its doctrines idly abused, as I would not myself idly abuse the faith of any honest man.'

'And if you had been born an Arian?'

'Doubtless I should have remained an Arian."

'Then all religious views are true doctrine if sincerely held?' my mistress pressed him.

'I do not accept that. But I say that it is good to keep faith and good to respect the feelings of others.'

Theodosius made no apology for the joke that had offended his godfather. All that he would say was: 'I hold no brief for any heresy. I grant you that Orthodox doctrine can be logically defended against all heresies — especially given certain mystical premises, such as that the Pope at Rome holds the keys of Heaven in succession to St Peter.'

Belisarius replied, stiffly:' I do not sec that logic has any part in true religion.'

Theodosius laughed. 'A sceptical comment indeed, Godfather.'

Belisarius explained, his temper still unruffled:' Religion is faith, not philosophy. The Ionian Greeks invented philosophy to take the place of religion; and it made a cowardly and deceitful race of them.'

Then my mistress Antonina asked: 'But is not philosophy needed to steel one against possible injuries? Is it good to keep faith with those who may injure one?'

'It is good to keep faith and to forgive injuries. To break one's faith is to injure oneself.'

Theodosius remarked: 'But the weaker a man's faith, the less he will injure himself by breaking it.'

Belisarius replied gently: 'Do not let that concern us, Godson. We are all people of honour here.'

Here I intercepted a swift glance that passed between my mistress and Theodosius, as if to say: 'Ah, dear Belisarius, you flatter us. Perhaps our sense of honour is not so fanatical as yours.'

I have never forgotten that conversation, and that glance, in the light of my mistress's subsequent relations with Theodosius. This at least is sure: that Theodosius had allowed himself to be baptized only as an aid to personal advancement, and was no more a Christian than I or my mistress. He once confessed to her: 'The only writer on Christianity that I have ever read with satisfaction was Cclsus.' This Celsus is anathema. Me lived in pagan times, and wrote about the early Christians with witty severity. He even went to Palestine to investigate the parentage of Jesus, and claimed to have found Him recorded in the military records as the son of one Pantherus, a Greek soldier of Samaria. 'And it is noteworthy,' Theodosius said, 'that, according to the Evangelist John, Jesus did not deny His Samaritan origin when the priests chargcd him with it.'

Everyone is entitled to his own faith or opinions, as Belisarius maintained. But Theodosius concealed his thoughts from everyone but my mistress Antonina — if indeed he revealed them to her. Although I did not believe the stupid servants' gossip about my mistress and Theodosius — such as that they had once been observed kissing behind a screen and, on another occasion, emerging together from a dark cellar -1 nevertheless felt a strong presentiment that one day passion would seize hold of my mistress and the young man and bring ill luck both on Belisarius and on themselves. For being an atheist, or at least a sceptic, what moral scruples had Theodosius? As for my mistress, she had lived a very loose life in the old days, and had not by any means been faithful to her husband the merchant, looking upon her body as her own possession to dispose of as it best pleased her. Her love for Belisarius was undeniable; but whether it would restrain her from indulging any passion that she might feel for Theodosius I could not foresee.

When Belisarius said: 'We are all people of honour here,' I was sad. I loved him as a noble hero, and my loyalty to him was only second to the loyalty that I felt for my mistress, in gratitude for the great consideration with which she had always treated mc.

It was at this moment that Solomon was announced. He came panting into the room, hardly able to speak. My mistress sent mc for a nip of wine to revive him, which he presently drank. My discretion being beyond question, I was permitted to remain and hear the story that he told us.

The Vandal women were at the bottom of the trouble, Solomon said. They had persuaded their new husbands that the Emperor had defrauded them of their marriage-dowries — of the houses and lands that belonged to them in their own right. These same women had also stirred up indignation against Justinian's oppressive religious edicts: all Arians being strictly debarred from the Sacraments and even forbidden a little holy water with which to sprinkle their children for baptismal purposes. There was now a whole crop of newly born Arian children who, if they happened to the without baptism, would be damned everlastingly; and this caused their fathers, Thracian Goths and Herulian Huns, great concern. The mutiny had been agreed upon for Easter Sunday, which fell that year on the twenty-third day of March. The conspirators decided to assassinate Solomon as he was attending a ceremony in honour of the Resurrection of Christ, in the Cathedral of St Cyprian. Solomon did not have the least suspicion of his danger, because the secret had been extraordinarily well kept. Yet half the soldiers of his own bodyguard were in the plot, being married to Vandal wives and wishing to share in the distribution of land and houses.

The moment chosen for the assassination was that of the solemn elevation of the Host before the high altar (an action which is held to endow it with miraculous properties); for the whole congregation would then be prostrated in reverence, and a sudden, murderous blow could easily be struck. But when the Arian soldiers entered with their hands on the hilts of their daggers, encouraging one another with nods and nudges, they were overcome by a sudden sense of awe. The vastness and richness of the Cathedral, the soft, solemn chanting of the choir, the candles and the incense, the banners and the garlands of spring flowers, the venerable priests in their embroidered robes, the unarmed congregation at prayer in festival dress — all this created a profound impression on the Arians. They could commit murder but not sacrilege. As they halted, irresolute, the silent-footed sacristans and dog-beadles came gliding up to them, plucking at their sleeves imperiously, motioning for them to prostrate themselves with the rest. One by one they obeyed, and took part in the remaining ceremonies just as if they had been of the Orthodox faith. But when they were outside again, each of them accused his neighbour of cowardice and softness and swore that he himself would have dared the deed if only a single other man had stood by him.

They made these quarrelsome declarations in the public marketplace, and Solomon soon came to hear of the matter; but when he ordered their arrest the men of his bodyguard showed no readiness to obey him. Then the conspirators, joined by a number of other dissatisfied soldiers, left Carthage and began plundering in the suburbs.

Solomon found himself powerless against these malcontents: his own troops refused to march against them. On the fifth day he called a general assembly in the Hippodrome, where he addressed the assembled soldiers and sailors and police-officers, attempting to win a renewed oath of loyalty from them. But they howled him down and threw stones, and presently began beating and killing their own officers. They cut the throat of Solomon's Chief of Staff; and then Pharas the Herulian, who resolutely proclaimed himself loyal to his blood-brother Belisarius, was mortally wounded by the arrows of his own men. These Herulians had been brewing kavasse again, for the bee had been restored to them.

Soon the mutiny became general, the whole army began to plunder the shopping district in the centre of Carthage and the warehouses by the harbour. Then, but for their not burning any houses down or wearing Green or Blue favours, it might have been Constantinople in the Victory Riots with no Belisarius at hand to restore order. For the time being Solomon took sanctuary in the Lady Chapel of Geilimer's Palace, but escaped as soon as he was able and made for the dorks. There he commandeered a boat and, after ten days' rowing, here at last he was.

When Belisarius had asked Solomon a few questions he announced to Antonina: 'I am going to Carthage immediately. It is what the Emperor would expect of mc. Do you stay here and act as my Deputy.'

' What troops will you take with you?' 'A hundred cuirassiers.' 'You will be killed, madman.' 'I shall be safely back here before the month is out.' 'I must come with you, Belisarius.' 'I can trust only you with my affairs here.' 'I cannot trust myself. Let me come with you. I will not be denied.' 'Antonina, in this you must obey me. I order you in the Emperor's name'

Thus it was that my mistress, though against her will, remained behind at Syracuse with Theodosius; and she did not expect to see Belisarius again. If it is true that she ever broke her marriage-vows sworn to Belisarius, this was the occasion. But she always denied that she had done so, and none could contradict her, for she had always been a very discreet woman. It is my task as a historian to tell the truth, but it is also my duty as a faithful domestic not to traduce my mistress. Fortunately this task and that duty do not conflict. I know nothing for certain: so much I can swear.

In Carthage the mutineers, having plundered the city to their hearts' content and taken formal possession of what houses and lands they fancied, marched out to join forces with another group of mutineers of the column to which Solomon had entrusted the wearisome siege of Mount Aures. Their combined squadrons soon amounted to 7,000 men, and in addition there were a thousand Vandals. Four hundred of these were escaped captives. They had lately been on their way to the Persian frontier from Constantinople; but off the Island of Lesbos they had overpowered the crews of their transports and sailed not to Antioch but back to North Africa, where they disembarked in a lonely spot near Mount Pappua and marched to Mount Aures. They had intended to ally themselves with the rebel Moors, but instead joined the Imperial mutineers, who welcomed them warmly. The remaining Vandals were refugees who had been hiding in obscure places ever since the capture of Carthage and now dared to come into the open at last. Horses were found for them at the posting-houses.

The mutineers chose as their commander a private soldier, an energetic and capable Thracian named Stotzas, and then marched back to Carthage, proclaiming the whole Diocese a Soldiers' Republic. No opposition at all was expected from the citizens. They arrived outside the walls at dusk on the seventh day of April and bivouacked there, planning to march in on the following morning. But that very evening Belisarius arrived by sea with his 100 chosen cuirassiers and immediately began to search through plundered Carthage for a few loyal troops; and before morning had gathered together 2,000. Of these, 600 were Roman African recruits of the cavalry police-force, and 500 were Vandals, men beyond middle age, whom Belisarius had allowed to live unmolested in their homes, and who in gratitude now volunteered to help him. There was also a number of friendly Moors. Of soldiers who had not mutinied there were no more than 500. But it was a saying that Belisarius's name was worth 50,000 men. When the mutineers heard of his sudden arrival, they considered themselves outnumbered by 52,000 to 8.000, and immediately broke camp and fled back to the interior. They were heading for Mount Aures, where they intended to make common cause with the Moors. Belisarius pursued and overtook them fifty miles out of the city, at Mcmbresa, an un-walled town by the River Bagrades. Here was a new sort of battle for him to fight: against his own soldiers.

The honour of the victory is now popularly given to St Cyprian — whom legend also credits with having made a personal appearance in his cathedral on that Easter morning (disguised as a dog-beadle, but his halo plainly showing) to disarm the assassins and force them upon their faces. For at Membresa St Cyprian's wind sprang up suddenly, out of season again, and blew hard in the faces of the mutineers just as the two armies were about to engage. Stotzas realized that the arrows of his men would lose velocity because of the wind, and therefore ordered one-half of his cavalry to wheel over to a sheltered position on the right flank and use their bows from there. The manoeuvre was executed slowly and with some disorder. Belisarius, at the head of his cavalry, immediately charged against the point of greatest confusion, which was the Vandal squadron. For the Vandals, not being archers, were uncertain whether they were intended to move or stay. The sudden charge broke them, and the mutineers' army was cut into two parts; both of which gave way when Belisarius's column divided and swung round at full gallop against the rear of each.

Thus it happened that many of the Vandal women changed husbands a second time. They were left behind in the camp when the mutineers scattered into the desert, every man for himself; and were captured by Belisarius's men with the rest of the plunder. Most of the dead were Vandals; because as soon as victory seemed certain, Belisarius had ordered his men to refrain from attacking the mutineers, who might presently return to their allegiance; and indeed a thousand of the fugitives surrendered gladly and were granted a free pardon.

Belisarius would have continued the pursuit and summoned the still loyal garrison of Hippo, and the troops stationed in Morocco, to help him in stamping out the mutiny. But having only a single body, and that not divine, he could not be both in Sicily and Africa at the same time; and a messenger had just arrived from my mistress Antonina, reporting the outbreak of another mutiny at Syracuse. There was nothing for it but to leave Hildiger, his future son-in-law, in temporary command of the army in Africa. He returned with his 100 men to Carthage, and so by sea to Syracuse.

Nevertheless, there was no soldiers' mutiny in Sicily, as it proved, but only a refusal of an infantry general named Constantine to take orders from my mistress Antonina as Belisarius's lieutenant. He declared that it was no part of his duty to obey any woman, unless it were the Empress in certain civil matters of which the Emperor had delegated the control to her: according to immemorial Roman custom women could not be appointed military commanders. My mistress had placed Constantine under close arrest; and his fellow-generals, sympathizing with him, ceased to send in their daily reports to my mistress, referring everything instead to the senior officer among them, who was Bloody John. On his return Belisarius released Constantine from arrest, but spoke very severely to him and to the other generals, and told them that he regarded their action as both ignorant and insulting to himself. It had long ago been proved that a woman of sense and courage could not only command troops with resolution (as his wife the Illustrious Lady Antonina had done during the march to Carthage) but lead them to victory. Had not Zenobia of Palmyra, riding mail-clad at the head of her troops, preserved the Eastern Empire from the invasion of Persian Sapor? The Lady Antonina was, moreover, his declared representative and held his seal. By this untimely insubordination they had forced his recall from Africa, and prevented him from completing his action against the mutineers. The soldier Stotzas was still at large and likely to cause more trouble.

They said little in answer, but Constantine hinted obscurely that Belisarius did not know both sides of the story. He had had no intention of insulting Belisarius, but rather of honouring him in giving no obedience to a wife who did not consult his true interests. Constantine would say no more, and left Belisarius puzzled.

But on that same evening one of my fellow-domestics, a girl named Macedonia, came privately to Belisarius and warned him that my mistress Antonina and Theodosius were lovers, and that this had become a common scandal. She said that it was no doubt because of this that Constantine and the generals had been so unwilling to obey our mistress. Macedonia made the disclosure out of revenge, for my mistress had tied her to a bed-post two days before and whipped her for misbehaviour. The misbehaviour was an ignoble love-affair with the seventeen-year-old Photius, who had come with us to Sicily. Macedonia thought it unjust that our mistress, who was a married woman, should commit adultery and yet unmercifully whip her for mere fornication. But she had no proof of our mistress's guilt and was therefore obliged to invent evidence. She persuaded two little pages, Moorish royal hostages, to support her story. They wanted revenge on our mistress because as hostages they had expected to be treated as princes; but when their parents revolted our mistress gave them menial work to do and also whipped them when they pilfered or behaved in an unseemly way. They were such accomplished liars, or Macedonia had schooled them so well, that Belisarius could not but believe their story, which was most circumstantial; and it was to him as if he were on a vessel whose anchor-cable had snapped in a sudden storm. But Macedonia had bound him by an oath not to reveal to his wife from whom the accusation had come, or to call herself and the pages in witness to any charge of adultery. Belisarius's hands were thus tied. I had no notion myself of what was on foot, but I could sec that he was suddenly most miserable and also angry beyond measure. However, he contrived to hide his feelings from his wife, pleading a sick stomach and anxieties about affairs at Carthage and about the insubordination of his generals.

What thoughts were passing through his mind I cannot tell, but I can make a fair guess. In the first place, I think, he wished to kill Theodosius for his ingratitude and treachery, and a natural jealousy was not absent from his heart either. Next, he wished to kill my mistress Antonina for her faithlessness to him, especially as he had trusted her absolutely and lived a chaste life. Next, he wished to kill himself, for very shame: Theodosius was his adopted son, and the crime was therefore incest. On the other hand, it was his duty as a Christian to forgive his enemies. My mistress had hitherto been the best of wives to him, and he still loved her passionately; and he remembered that lately she had pleaded to be allowed to accompany him to Carthage, though it might be to her death. She had, moreover, told him plainly that she did not trust herself alone in Syracuse; so it seemed to Belisarius that Theodosius had seduced her by some evil art or other, against her inclinations.

I shall not wrong Belisarius by suggesting that there was another consideration that weighed with him, though it would have been foremost in the mind of any other man in his position: that my mistress would be supported by Theodora, who would not hesitate to punish him 'for putting on airs' if he took any revenge for her adultery. To be tossed in a blanket was the least punishment that he could expect in such a case. Fear of Theodora would not have swerved him from any course that he regarded as the honest one; but it is possible that even in his anguish of mind he remembered his loyalty to Justinian, who had ordered him to prosecute this war against the Goths. Any hasty or violent action that he might take in the matter would provoke the enmity of Theodora; and, if he were recalled, North Africa and Sicily would soon be lost again to the Empire. As he was aware, none of his subordinates, though many of them were brave men, had any grasp of the strategical situation, or any capacity for leadership.

He sent for me that same evening and spoke to me alone and said: 'Eugenius, you have been more than a servant, you have been a good friend to your mistress and myself. Can I trust you with a secret mission? Unless it is swiftly accomplished by some discreet person I think that I shall go mad.'

I said: 'Yes, my lord. If it concerns either your welfare or that of my mistress.'

He charged me with fearful threats not to reveal the mission to a soul; and presently told me what I was to do. I was to go to Theodosius and tell him:' Here is a monk's robe, and here are scissors with which to clip your hair in monkish fashion, and here is a purse of money and at the docks there is a vessel sailing for Ephesus tomorrow at dawn. The master's name is So-and-So. If you do not go aboard her at once, you will be a dead man. At Ephesus you must enter a monastery and take vows of perpetual chastity.' But I was not to mention the name of Belisarius on any account.

I grew afraid. I had never seen the equable Belisarius so excited in all my experience of him, not even on that early morning in the captured camp at Tricamaron. Yet I also feared my mistress. If Theodosius were to tell her from whom this warning message came, she would suspect me of plotting against her, and perhaps kill me. It was dangerous to give Theodosius such a message without reporting it first to her, yet I could not refuse the mission; and, besides, I considered it to my mistress's advantage that Theodosius should be removed from the scene without further scandal. I went trembling to Theodosius and gave him the message, telling him how unwilling a messenger I was. Knowing my character, he believed me and recognized that the warning was a serious one.

He guessed from whom it had come, and said: 'Tell my godfather that truly I do not know why he is angry with me, unless I have been unjustly slandered. I have a clean conscience but many enemies.'

When I begged him not to tell my mistress Antonina that the message had come through me, he swore that he would not. He kept the oath honourably, I must allow. He took the robe and the scissors and the money and went straight to the docks, without sending any message to Antonina. Then I went back and reported Theodosius's words to Belisarius.

You may imagine how frantic with alarm my mistress was when her dear Theodosius disappeared without a word: she naturally feared that he had been murdered, perhaps by Constantine, and was inconsolable. Not suspecting Belisarius, she called on him to institute an immediate search for Theodosius, which he consented to do. I myself was commissioned to find out when and where he was last seen. It was not difficult for me to set my mistress's mind at rest, knowing where to look. I soon found a couple of soldiers at the docks who could swear to having seen Theodosius; for it seems that he had not adopted the monk's habit until he was aboard. Thus she knew at least that he had gone voluntarily. But she was resolved to get to the bottom of the matter. Some new air of triumph in the demeanour of Photius, whom she knew to be jealous of Theodosius, aroused her suspicions; it was easy to deduce that Macedonia was concerned with Theodosius's disappearance. In the end she frightened a full confession out of the two pages.

Meanwhile, Photius had injudiciously confided the secret to Constantine; and Constantine, still smarting from my mistress Antonina's treatment of him, was only too pleased to have the laugh of her and Belisarius. On the morning of the second day after Theodosius's disappearance, meeting Belisarius in the principal square, he saluted him and said, grinning:' You were right to chase away that Thracian Paris, great Menelaus; but the fault lay rather with Queen Helen.'

Belisarius did not trust himself to make any reply, and therefore turned his back on Constantine. Many soldiers saw him do so, who had not heard the original remark, and it caused a bad impression.

My mistress Antonina now spoke openly to Belisarius. What passed between them I do not know. But she convinced him that Macedonia had been lying, and it was clear that he felt both exceedingly relieved and exceedingly ashamed of himself. He sent a fast vessel to recall Theodosius; and Macedonia was whipped, branded, and confined to a nunnery for the rest of her life. The page-boys were also whipped and branded, and sent to work in the silver-mines. That my mistress with my help pulled out Macedonia's tongue, cut her in pieces, and threw the pieces into the sea is a lie told many years later by the secretary Procopius to discredit her. I do not say that Macedonia was undeserving of this punishment, or that my mistress did not threaten it in her anger.

Soon all was well again between my mistress and her husband. But Theodosius had not yet returned to us, the ship that was sent after him having failed to overtake him. However, Belisarius wrote to him at Ephesus, urging him to return, and also made a public confession of his own mistake, on the day of Macedonia's trial. All talkative tongues were silenced for fear.

Belisarius now awaited Justinian's order for the invasion of Italy; but it was long in coming, because Justinian had been disconcerted by the news of Mundus's death. He was instructed to do nothing as yet, but to hold himself in readiness until he should hear of the recapture of Spalato; and then march against Rome. Spalato was re-occupied in September by the reinforced Illyrian army, and in October Belisarius heard news of this and was able to begin his march. He had been greatly assisted in his plans by my mistress, who during his absence in Africa had been carrying on secret negotiations with King Theudahad's son-in-law, who commanded the Gothic forces in Southern Italy. She had persuaded this fellow, with whom she had contrived to become acquainted, to promise to desert his army on the day that our invasion of his territory began. Therefore, when Belisarius, leaving garrisons behind at Palermo and Syracuse, the defences of which he had greatly improved, crossed the Straits of Messina and marched against the town of Reggio (where the gold-mines are), this Vandal coward deserted to us with a few of his companions, and left his men leaderless. He went to Constantinople, where, renouncing his Arian faith, he was made a patrician and given great estates. King Theudahad, hearing the news, envied him.

The invasion of Southern Italy was thus not a running battle but a progress, the Goths scattering in all directions. We encountered not the least opposition as we marched up the coast accompanied by the fleet, until early in November when we came to Naples. This noble city was strongly fortified, and held by a garrison of Goths which was said nearly to equal our own army in numbers.

There are four ways of dealing with a reputedly impregnable fortress. The first is to leave it alone and attack the enemy in some weaker place. The second is to starve it out. The third is to force its capitulation by bribe, threat, or deceit. The fourth is to take it by Surprise, after discovering that it has, after all, some weak spot which the enemy in his confidence has overlooked. Belisarius could not leave Naples alone; if he did, it would serve as a rallying point for all the scattered Gothic forces within a hundred miles. From the shelter of those massive walls, columns could be detached for the re-conquest of Southern Italy — the small garrisons that he had left behind in its principal cities would be overwhelmed. Nor could he starve Naples out, since it was plentifully supplied with grain, the principal granaries of the African corn-trade being situated within the walls; besides, delay at Naples would give the Goths time to assemble a huge army against him in the North. But it was not impossible that the city might be persuaded to capitulate by an impressive threat.

First he anchored his fleet in the harbour out of range of the siege-engines on the city-walls and camped in the suburbs, where in an attack at dawn he easily captured an outwork of the fortifications by escalade. Then he sent a letter to the Neapolitan City Fathers, informing them briefly that he expected them to surrender the city to him without further delay.

The Italian mayor came to him, under a flag of truce, but with two Goths as witnesses; he was not at all obliging, and as good as told Belisarius that he was trying to create a false impression of overwhelming military strength when his forces were extremely meagre. 'I regard it as a most unfriendly action,' the Mayor said, 'to put on us native Italians the burden of replying to your message. The soldiers of the garrison are Goths, and we dare not oppose them, since we are unarmed. Nor will they surrender to bribes and threats, because King Theudahad sent them here only the other day with orders to hold out to the last man — first taking their wives and children away from them as hostages, threatening to kill them if the city were lost. My suggestion is that you do not waste time here, but push on to Rome. For if you take Rome, Naples will certainly surrender also, and if you fail to take Rome, Naples will not be of much service to you.'

Belisarius answered curtly: 'I do not ask you for any lessons in strategy. But I will tell you this. I have soldiered for many years now, and I have seen many cruel sights in the sack of places which have not surrendered when called upon. I heartily wish to avoid such experiences at Naples. If you persuade the Gothic garrison to surrender, all your ancient privileges shall be confirmed and increased, and the garrison shall be at liberty cither to join the Imperial forces or to march out of the city under safe conduct. But' — here he turned to the Gothic witnesses — 'I warn you Goths that, if you choose to fight, your fate will be that of King Geilimer and his Vandals.'

A Goth answered:' Is it not true that Carthage, which lived happily under the Vandals and surrendered at discretion to your army, has recently been plundered by the Emperor's soldiers?'

Belisarius replied: 'Not by the Emperor's soldiers, but by those of the Devil.'

The Goth said: 'That is all one to us.'

Then the conference broke up; but the Mayor secretly assured Belisarius that he would do his best to persuade his fellow-citizens to open the gates in defiance of the Goths, who in reality numbered only 1,500 men. However, 300 good men would have sufficed to hold so strong a city against 30,000, and Belisarius had no more than 10,000 troops with him, having been obliged to detach 2,000 men for garrison duty hi Sicily and Southern Italy.

Naples would yield neither for famine nor thirst. The Jewish merchants who controlled the corn-trade put their granaries at the public disposal, and offered the services of a number of Jewish marines and watchmen in their employment, who were trained to arms. If Belisarius cut the city aqueduct — as he was soon to do — there were sufficient wells inside the city to supply water for all household purposes. The City Fathers sent a message to Theudahad, assuring him of their loyalty but asking him to send an army to their relief.

The only hope now left of taking Naples lay in the method of surprise. But where was the vulnerable spot in the defences to be found?