Justinian

NOTES

Prologue

Ammianus Marcellinus

This Roman officer-turned-historian paints a marvellously colourful and detailed picture of the late Roman world in the second half of the fourth century, covering — besides a wealth of fascinating domestic issues such as witchcraft trials and snobbery among the nouveaux riches in Rome — campaigns in Germany, Gaul, Britain and Persia. He ends on a sombre note — the destruction of a huge Roman army by the Goths, at Adrianople in AD 378. Though he could not foresee it, this disaster would precipitate a chain of events that would culminate in the fall of the Western Empire a century later.

this year of the consul Paulus

Normally, two consuls — one from Constantinople, the other from Rome — were chosen each year, the year being named for them. This practice continued even after the fall of the West, Western consuls being nominated by the first two German kings of Italy — Odovacar, then Theoderic — in their capacity as vicegerents of the Eastern emperor, who held the power to ratify or ignore their choice. A less common way of dating events was from the Founding of the City (of Rome, in 753 BC) — Ab Urbe Condita, or A.U.C. Dating from the birth of Christ was only introduced in 527, at the instigation of one Dionysius Exiguus, but was not generally adopted before the age of Charlemagne and King Alfred. Dating for the interim period between the lapsing of consular dates (the office was abolished in 539) and the adoption of the Christian Era c. AD 800, was from the supposed Creation (according to one Julius Africanus) on 1 September, 5,508 years, three months, and twenty-five days before the birth of Christ. (See Gibbon’s note at the end of Chapter 40 of his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.)

elephants and cataphracts

Alexander encountered (Indian) elephants in his Persian and Indian campaigns, and elephants (African ones) were famously used by Hannibal against the Romans. For a limited period after the end of the Punic wars, elephants were even employed by late Hellenistic armies, before falling out of fashion. Persia, as Ammianus Marcellinus eloquently testifies, was still using war-elephants in the later fourth century, but seems to have abandoned them by the seventh, as they are nowhere mentioned during the East Roman emperor Heraclius’ war against Persia in AD 622.

Cataphracts, or cataphractarii — heavily armoured cavalry — appear to have been a Persian invention, but were extensively copied by the late Romans. Strictly, the term ‘cataphract’ should apply only when the rider, not his horse, was armoured; clibanarius — literally (and appropriately!) ‘oven man’ — is the correct term when both were armoured. ‘Cataphract’ however, was freely used to describe both types. Cataphracts, despite a superficial resemblance in appearance, were not the ancestors of the European mediaeval knight, although often referred to as such. Knighthood was a strictly feudal development, in which military service was an obligation incurred by a grant of land from a feudal superior.

Scipio’s tactics against Hannibal

Roderic and Victor were not the only ones to benefit (in their case, fictionally) from the great Roman campaigner’s ideas. General ‘Stormin’ Norman’ Schwarzkopf studied and applied Scipio’s tactics with great success in at least one battle in the first Gulf War.

standard regulation issue

From archaeological and representational evidence, we have a clear idea of the equipment of the typical East Roman soldier (both officer and other ranks) of the fifth and sixth centuries. The marvellous Osprey series about armies and campaigns (on whose illustrations in Twighlight of the Empire etc., I’ve based my descriptions) is invaluable for visualizing fighting men of the period. The gear of late Roman soldiers of the Eastern Empire tended to be very conservative. It often featured typically ‘Roman’ helmets (actually based on Greek ‘Attic’ helmets of Peloponnesian War vintage) that would not have looked out of place on Trajan’s Column.

an immensely long pike

The fearsome sarissa, or twenty-foot long pike, enabled Alexander to conquer much of Asia with the famous Macedonian phalanx — an invincible formation, provided iron discipline was maintained and enemy archers neutralized in advance. In various guises the pike-phalanx kept reappearing throughout history: as the schiltron in the Scottish Wars of Independence, and in the massed formations of Swiss mercenaries and Landsknechte of the Renaissance period and of the English Civil War, where battles could sometimes be decided by ‘push of pike’. The formation’s weakness of course was its vulnerability to archery, and later to musket fire. However, in combination with the firearm, the pike as an individual weapon lives on in the shape of the bayonet, proving its value in close combat fighting in campaigns stretching from Blenheim to Afghanistan.

a rigid code of loyalty and honour

Sharing something of the ideal values of Periclean Athens, Republican Rome, mediaeval chivalry, and the code of Bushido of Japanese samurai, the moral standards of Persian aristocracy were shaped by scrupulous observation of consideration and politeness (often taken to absurd extremes), truthfulness, fidelity and respect for superior rank.

N.B. Beyond telling us that he was a good and conscientious soldier, the records don’t explain how it was that ‘Roderic’ came to be awarded, in the words of Gibbon, ‘the dignity of senator, and the command of the guards’. So I felt I had to invent a situation which would allow Roderic to show himself, through action, as the kind of man we believe him to have been. Though fictional, the incidents in the Prologue are (very) loosely linked to real events. The Persians did invade Oriens during the reign of Anastasius, but on the initiative of Kavad* himself, not one of his generals; they eventually withdrew, not because of a decisive Roman victory but because the campaign became bogged down in a bloody stalemate; Kavad was under the influence of a powerful personality — not a general, however, but a religious impostor called Mazdak — who may or may not have encouraged him to embark on a military adventure against the East Roman Empire; the defeat of Tamshapur’s force is borrowed from an incident occurring in 622, when the East Roman emperor Heraclius routed the cataphracts and infantry of the ferocious Persian general Shahrvaraz, ‘the Wild Boar’, who actually did burn prisoners alive on crosses, and who was my model for Tamshapur. The scene of his defeat was suggested by the location of Petra (minus the rock-carved buildings) — a long, sandstone defile, exceedingly narrow in places.

Chapter 1

an Edict of Emperor Theodosius

Passed on 24 February 391, this draconian enactment — which was enforced with fanatical thoroughness by the minions of the emperor and his partner in zealotry Bishop Ambrose of Milan, banned all pagan practices within the Empire at a time when many Roman citizens still clung to pagan beliefs. Henceforth, all religious creeds, other than Orthodox Catholicism, were to be deemed illegal, including the Arian form of Christianity — the faith of almost all Germans. But this created a massive inconsistency. Owing to a severe shortage of Roman recruits, Theodosius took the dangerous step of enrolling into the army whole tribes of (Arian) Germans enlisting under their own chieftains. Clearly, there could be no question of trying to make these federates relinquish their Arian belief in order to conform to the Edict; in their case, a blind eye had perforce to be turned. However, this exception did not extend to isolated Gothic communities long settled in the Empire (sometimes referred to as ‘Moeso-Goths’, from the province of Moesia Secunda where many of them had made their homes) of which the Goths of Tauresium may have formed an example.

Born 31 August in the year. . 482

This is necessarily conjectural; we know that Uprauda was born in either 482 or 483, but not the exact date. In Roman times, dates within any given month were calculated by counting the number of days occurring before the next of the three fixed days dividing the Roman month: Kalends, the first day of the month, the Nones on the 5th or 7th, and the Ides on the 13th or 15th. (In March, May, July and October, the Nones fell on the 7th and the Ides on the 15th, in the remaining months on the 5th and 13th respectively.) Thus, the Ides of January happening on the 13th of that month, the next day would be termed by a Roman not the 14th, but the 19th before the Kalends of February, reckoning inclusively, i.e., taking in both 14 January and the 1 February; and so on to the last day of the month which was termed pridie Kalendas. In this particular entry, ‘in the year of’ is understood, ablative absolute construction being used to give, ‘Trocundus and Severinus being consuls’.

Legio Quinta Macedonica

Thanks to representational evidence (carvings of the fifth and sixth centuries), we have a very clear idea of the appearance of soldiers of this unit: oval shield decorated with ‘sunflower’ motif; scale armour or chain mail hauberk; ‘Attic’ helmet (sometimes shown with crest); spear and long sword (spatha) in the case of infantry; short recurved bow but no shield in the case of horse-archers. (See Twighlight of the Empire in the excellent Osprey series.)

Chapter 2

a vigorous bout of harpastum

Beyond the fact that it appears to have been some sort of competitive ball-game, I’ve been unable to discover any details about how harpastum may have been played, so have had to fall back on invention. Sidonius Apollinaris — Bishop of Clermont in the fifth century — refers to a game with teams of ball-players throwing and catching balls with swift turns and agile ducking. Could this have been harpastum?

that first sight of the city

Among the landmarks mentioned by Petrus, the Walls of Theodosius (at present being restored to something like their original glory), the Golden Gate, and the Aqueduct of Valens are still to be seen — all in a remarkable state of preservation.

the tall column that rose in the middle of the square

Commemorating a bloody pogrom of the Goths in Constantinople in AD 400, the Column of Arcadius was an ugly example of state-sponsored chauvinism. (Shades of the inscription on Sir Christopher Wren’s Monument in London, laying the blame for the Great Fire on the Catholics!) Although, apart from the base, the column was demolished in 1715, we know what it looked like from a drawing made earlier.

the Cistern of Nomus

Nomus was a real person (when Master of Offices during the wars with Attila, he bought time for the Eastern Empire by unobtrusively strengthening the defences of the northern frontier), but the cistern I’ve named for him is a composite invention. Readers may recognize parts of it from scenes in Istanbul: in the James Bond film, From Russia with Love, in the TV series, Francesco’s Mediterranean Voyage, by Francesco da Mosto, in the Basilica Cistern (Yerebatanserai), which still impresses visitors today.

the Department. . controlled by the city prefect

‘The principal departments [of the city prefect] were. . the care of [inter alia]. . the aqueducts [and] the common sewers. .’ (Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Chapter 17.) This passage refers to Rome, but Gibbon goes on to say, ‘a similar magistrate was created in that rising metropolis [Constantinople], for the same uses and with the same powers.’

Chapter 3

the capital’s prestigious Eleventh Region

This was one of the city’s most desirable districts: relatively open, elegant, containing the largest proportion of free-standing houses (domus) of all the regions, patronised by the aristocracy, and containing the fashionable church of the Holy Apostles — a bit like Edinburgh’s Morningside or Grange! The best regions were I and II around the Imperial Palace. Regions IV to VIII were the least salubrious, being the areas where labourers, artisans, and the unemployed lived — along the Mese, and around the fora and the harbours.

an overrated pastime

There is a considerable amount of evidence suggesting that some men of power or genius (intellectual, artistic, scientific, military, etc.) have shown little interest in sex — perhaps because their overriding drive/passion/obsession displaced or sublimated it. Examples are: Thomas Carlyle, Ruskin (who may have died a virgin), Isaac Newton, Erasmus, Michaelangelo. Henry VIII, despite his famously priapic reputation and his ill-starred passion for Anne Boleyn, would appear to have been less interested in sex per se than as a means of securing dynastic progeny; the same observation probably also applies to Napoleon. Hitler, despite lurid speculation of the ‘tabloid headline’ variety would appear to have been uninterested in sex, except perhaps on a semi-abstract, idealized plane.

Justinian comes over to me as very much a man of the above type — an intellectual and obsessive workaholic, to whom (as I’ve hinted in the story) sex would have been a time-wasting distraction, and may even have been physically distasteful. Which may seem a ludicrous conclusion in view of his marriage to the (allegedly) promiscuous and oversexed Theodora. That they genuinely loved one another seems certain; however, as I’ve suggested in later chapters, their love may have been more to do with a ‘meeting of minds’, than anything based on physical passion.

indicating their support for ‘the Blues’

Dominating popular entertainment in Constantinople was the sport of chariot-racing, held in the Hippodrome. Supporters of the two rival teams — known as ‘the Blues’ and ‘the Greens’ (from the colours worn by the opposing racing drivers) — extended their mutual rivalry far beyond the realm of sport. (Shades of Celtic v. Rangers fans in West Central Scotland!) In a pre-democratic age, these factions could be the voice of the people, and woe betide the emperor who failed to take notice of their complaints or demands, as voiced in the Hippodrome; Justinian very nearly lost his throne in the Circus faction Nika Riots of 532. The Blues tended to represent wealthy businessmen and landowners, while the Greens drew support from traders and artisans, many of Syrian origin. The Blues’ ‘Establishment’ credentials were further strengthened when they were backed by Justinian, whose patronage enabled them to terrorise the streets of the capital with impunity. Known as ‘Partisans’, their leaders, dressed in Hunnish fashion, were engaged in perpetual gang warfare with their rivals, the Greens: a situation with striking parallels to the urban gang culture in many cities today.

our ‘little father’ has been taken from us

The soubriquet has nothing to do with Anastasius’ stature, but was a popular endearment conferred on many Eastern emperors from Marcian on, whose generally benign regimes helped to create an image of the emperor as the loving Protector of his people. (In contrast to the policy of appeasement towards Attila of the feeble Theodosius II, his successor Marcian’s resolute stand against the Hun leader gave him popular hero status.)

Blinding or death

To forestall any possibility of his becoming a future focus for disaffection, a defeated rival for the purple was invariably either executed or — as a ‘humane’ alternative — mutilated by blinding or amputation of the nose. Disfigurement constituted an automatic bar to becoming emperor.

the most powerful post in the Empire

The powers of the Master of Offices were very great. He was in effect the head of the Empire’s central administration. In modern terms, his position would combine the roles of most senior cabinet ministers, excluding that of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

a damaging schism

At the Council of Chalcedon, near Constantinople, in 451, the belief, put forward by Pope Leo, that Christ had two natures — both human and divine — was established as orthodoxy for the Church in the Western and Eastern Roman Empires. Chalcedonism was violently opposed by the Monophysites (mainly in Syria and Egypt) who believed that Christ had only one, divine, nature. As the Monophysites were now officially heretical, the effect of Chalcedon was to create religious strains within the Empire, which could threaten to degenerate into schism unless handled with tact and diplomacy. Thus, in Egypt (the source of the Eastern Empire’s vital grain supply), a blind eye had perforce to be turned to Monophysitism. After the fall of the Western Empire in 476, relations between Italy (ultra-Chalcedonian, although her German rulers were Arian) and the Eastern Empire cooled (in what became known as the Acacian Schism), because of the pro-Monophysite sympathies of Emperors Zeno and Anastasius. However, the accession of the strongly Chalcedonian Justin ended the schism, and this paved the way for Italy to become reintegrated into the Empire under Justinian.

Chapter 4

stage menials rushed around the orchestra

In the Ancient Greek theatre, the stage (a long narrow platform upon which the actors performed) was fronted at a lower level by a semi-circular space called the orchestra, in which the chorus sang and danced. The Romans (often using the same theatres that the Greeks had constructed) reversed the functions of stage and orchestra.

Eratosthenes. . who had measured the earth’s circumference

By observing the difference between the angles of the sun at two places a measured distance apart (north-south), Eratosthenes was able to calculate the angle subtended by that distance. The number of times the angle would divide into 360 degrees multiplied by the distance, gave him the answer — which was amazingly close to our own measurement of 24,000 miles. Pure geometry, pure genius!

you can’t just send me away

Beyond the fact that he was appointed governor of the Pentapolis, and that Theodora accompanied him there as his mistress, we know nothing about Hecebolus or why he should have turned her out of his house, piling insults on her as he did so (thus causing me to resort to invention). Procopius, of course, exploits poor Theodora’s predicament with prurient relish. In the Secret History he writes, ‘she was at a loss for the necessities of life, which she proceeded to provide in her usual way, putting her body to work at its unlawful traffic.’

Chapter 5

The terminus of the cursus publicus

The imperial post was one of the glories of Roman administration, with staging-posts every eight miles on the main highways where horses or vehicles could be hired, operating on a relay system. In the West, it functioned (unevenly post c. 400) almost to the end. In the East, it was discontinued early in Justinian’s reign as a cost-cutting exercise — barring, for military reasons, the road from the capital to the Persian frontier. From the time of Constantine, clerical dignitaries were accorded special travel privileges on the post.

admitted to the bishop’s presence

I’ve had to invent scenarios introducing Theodora to Timothy and later to Severus, as we don’t know how they met. But meet them she did (which seems almost incredible considering her background, and which speaks volumes for her determination and power of personality). Not only that, she formed a deep and fruitful friendship with both men — two of the finest minds in the Roman world, from which she gained a grounding in rhetoric, a taste for intellectual conversation, and a lasting respect for the Monophysites. Altogether, her experiences in Alexandria amount to something like a Damascene conversion.

the Graeco-Roman mind

The passionate concern displayed by people of late antiquity about the nature of Christ may seem to us today to be both incomprehensible and pointless — mere sterile Christological hair-splitting. But less so perhaps, if we view this obsession as stemming from the Graeco-Roman cast of mind that sought to discover the truth via reason and logic, the two great fruits of which are (as I’ve had Timothy point out) Greek philosophy and Roman law. And lest we become too dismissive of such concerns, we should perhaps remind ourselves that our own times have witnessed preoccupations no less abstruse. Forests have died to produce endless tracts devoted to dialectical materialism, Marxist-Leninism, existentialism, etc.; while the quest to arrive at a satisfactory definition of the Trinity continues to exercise and baffle the minds of bishops at successive Lambeth Conferences. Impatience with ambiguity is what drove these late Roman theologians. The true heirs of Athanasius and Augustine may be Charles Darwin and Richard Dawkins (by way of Peter Abelard, Thomas Aquinas, John Locke and David Hume) rather than Cardinal Newman or Ronald Knox.

a kindness Theodora. . would repay a thousandfold

Once married to Justinian, Theodora — as a result of the kindness shown her in Alexandria by Timothy and Severus — persuaded her husband (who could deny her nothing) to call off the persecution of the Monophysites. Not only did this happen with immediate effect (making Theodora enormously popular with the sect) but the Monophysites actually became a favoured minority at the imperial court, with Severus himself being invited to a conference between the leaders of both the Orthodox party and the Monophysites, intended to settle their differences.

Chapter 6

gazing adoringly at her lover’s face

History has many examples of strong-willed, intelligent women who, loving their own sex as well as, or in preference to, men, have had sufficient force of character to ignore the strictures of society and live according to their nature. Examples are: Sappho, Aphra Behn (that amazing polymath and early champion of women’s rights and racial equality), perhaps Queen Anne and Catherine the Great, Anne Lister — Regency landowner, diarist and proud lesbian, Colette, Radclyffe Hall, Virginia Woolf, Vita Sackville-West, Violet Keppel (Trefusis), Frida Kahlo and many individuals associated with the Women’s Liberation movement of the 1960s and 1970s. With her intellectual interests, sturdy independence of mind, and passionate proto-feminism,* Theodora comes over to me as being very much cast in the same sort of mould as the above women. Which is not to say of course that she necessarily shared their sexual proclivities. Still, when you can tick three out of four boxes indicating traits in common, there’s a temptation also to tick the fourth, even when the answer is ‘unknown’. There’s a tantalizingly vague phrase in Gibbon which may or may not shed some light on the matter: ‘Her secret apartments were occupied by the favourite women. . whose. . passions she indulged’. It’s hard to know what to make of this. Gibbon doesn’t name his source; it’s certainly not Procopius, who would have had a field day in his Secret History, exploiting any kind of lesbian activity on Theodora’s part, had he got wind of it. And none of his contemporaries, as far as I’ve been able to find out, mentions anything that Gibbon might have been referring to. So, for want of any hard evidence one way or the other, to the question of whether Theodora was bisexual or lesbian, probably the least unsatisfactory answer has to be that good old Scots Law verdict, ‘Not proven’. Which allows me, I think, sufficient artistic licence to portray Theodora and Macedonia as lovers.

addressed to a certain ‘Petrus Sabbatius. .’

Antony Bridge in his splendid Theodora states, ‘Before returning to Constantinople she went to Antioch for a time, where she made friends with a celebrated dancer named Macedonia’. He goes on to speculate, ‘that it may well have been through her [Macedonia’s] instrumentality that Theodora. . met the man who was destined so radically to change her fortunes’ [i.e. Justinian]. He confirms, as do other sources, including Gibbon, that on her return to the capital she earned a modest living spinning wool — an enterprise which I’ve had Macedonia take a hand in. The name ‘Petrus Sabbatius’ had now been changed officially to ‘Flavius Justinianus’, for as such he is listed in the consular Fasti for the year 521, the other consul being one Valerius. ‘Flavius’ indicates favoured status as part of the imperial family, perhaps a hint that he was already being groomed as Justin’s successor.

Chapter 7

John the Cappadocian

I have introduced him rather prematurely, as he seemed the ideal person to grasp the significance of ‘the Arabia Felix Question’, and to explain its complexities to others in a clear manner. In real life originally a clerk in the office of the local Cappadocian military commander, rather than in one of the imperial scrinia (as in the story), he was actually chosen by Justinian, not Justin. Coarse and offensively outspoken, he was also loyal, efficient and incorruptible. As praetorian prefect, he made himself indispensable to Justinian through his administrative reforms, cost-cutting exercises and tax-raising measures — the last two of which made him extremely unpopular with many citizens, and were largely the cause of the Nika Riots of 532 (of which more hereafter).

Dhu-Nuwas has invaded Arabia Felix

For convenience in plotting, I’ve had the invasion of Yemen start a little earlier than was actually the case, and telescoped the events of the subsequent counter-attack into a somewhat shorter time-span. Two historical facts enabled me conveniently to involve Justinian in the expedition. Firstly: as Robert Browning in his brilliant and most readable Justinian and Theodora suggests, Justinian may have personally contacted Ella Atsbeha (Elesboas) in response to his appeal. Secondly: we know that about this time Justin offered his nephew command of the Army of the East. Paucity of information concerning Justinian’s doings at this period therefore allowed me to speculate that he might have gone to Ethiopia in a military capacity. (We know that the Romans supplied a naval force to help the Ethiopians. Whether they also sent ground troops is uncertain, although considering the importance of ‘the Arabia Felix Question’, they must have been prepared to do so, if necessary — in which case, it would have fallen to the Army of the East to provide the required contingent.)

As for the expedition itself, beyond the fact that its outcome was successful, little is known about the actual campaigning — which allowed me to use my imagination to chart its progress. In hindsight, it seems a pity that the Romans neglected to exploit the Ethiopian victory over Dhu-Nuwas — a victory which surely offered them a golden opportunity to extend their influence in Arabia, Ethiopia, and the Horn of Africa, with perhaps in time the possibility of opening up a ‘Second Front’ in the struggle against Persia. Another, and most relevant consideration (one of those intriguing ‘what ifs’ of history) is this: had the Romans followed up the recapture of Yemen with an expansionist policy in the region, then Islam might never have come to pass.

Chapter 8

cut from a ‘living’ animal

James ‘the Abyssinian’ Bruce, Scottish ‘Renaissance Man’ and explorer (he discovered the source of the Blue Nile in 1770), published an account of his travels in Abyssinia (Ethiopia) in 1790. Many of his claims in this work — e.g. his reference to a steak being cut from a living cow, seemed so extraordinary that they were generally disbelieved, although subsequently vindicated in toto.

crowned by the ramparts of a mighty fortress

Magdala was taken and destroyed by a British expedition under Sir Robert Napier in 1868. The campaign was mounted in response to a public outcry, after several British subjects were imprisoned in Magdala by the mad Abyssinian emperor, Theodore.

The great machines. . were duly being assembled

Some idea of the fearsome power and destructive capability of Roman catapults can be gained from the following passage in Josephus’ The Jewish Wars. ‘One of the men. . had his head carried away by a stone [and] shot. . to a distance of three furlongsv. . More alarming even than the engines was their whirring drone, more frightful than the missiles was the crash.’

N.B. In Chapters 7 and 8, I’ve relied mainly on imagination and evidence from later periods in depicting Ethiopian warriors, as there is a dearth of contemporary material regarding their appearance. In arming them with spears and rawhide shields (standard equipment for as far back as records show) I imagine I’m on pretty safe ground. But having some with swords? Nilotic warriors have used European-looking swords well into modern times (e.g. as brandished by the Khalifa’s army in that splendid film of 1939, The Four Feathers). But how far back did the practice go? Some have suggested that it stemmed from acquisition/copying of Crusaders’ swords. If so, I can see no reason why the date should not be extended even further back — to the long, cutting spatha of late Roman times.

Chapter 9

a cruel surprise awaits the poor, duped girls

Sadly, a problem which — thanks to ‘people trafficking’ from Eastern Europe and Asia — the West is only too familiar with today.

Justinian was visibly impressed

In his Justinian and Theodora, Robert Browning states that, ‘she quoted the orator Isocrates [to Justinian] with electrifying effect’. I’ve used this incident to suggest that it marked a turning point in their relationship: the moment when he fell in love with her — for her mind.

a Seneca to my Nero

Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c. 4 BC-65 AD), philosopher, man of letters, and a noble, upright character, was entrusted with the education of the young Nero. For a time Seneca was able to exert a salutary effect on the boy; when Nero became emperor however, his essential viciousness of character came to the fore, and he degenerated into the monstrous tyrant he is remembered as today. Disillusioned, Seneca allowed himself to become involved in a plot to murder Nero. But, on the plot failing and his part in it being discovered, he committed suicide.

compensation for brothel-owners

The amount eventually settled on was five nomismata — about thirty pounds in present value.

I love you. . in the sense that Plato means

Despite Procopius’ attempt (in his Secret History) to portray Theodora as a raging nymphomaniac, I remain strongly of the opinion that the love between her and Justinian was — as I’ve suggested in the Notes for Chapter 3 — more about a meeting of minds than anything physical, while their wedded state remained strictly monogamous. Even Procopius can find no evidence that she was anything but faithful to Justinian after their marriage. There is some evidence that they may have produced a daughter, who died young. If so, she was their only offspring — although there doesn’t appear to have been any physical reason why they should not have had more children. All of which suggests that sex may well have been a low priority for both of them. Justinian comes over as an ascetic intellectual for whom sex may even have been mildly repugnant. (Again, see Notes for Chapter 3.) As for Theodora, occasional prostitution dictated by economic necessity, combined with her experience as the mistress of Hecebolus may well (as has been recorded concerning many women with similar experience*) have put her off sex — at least with men. (See Notes for Chapter 6.) Her total commitment to the causes she espoused on behalf of prostitutes, women in general, and the Monophysites, suggests that her sex drive may have been sublimated into, or replaced by, the energy she devoted to these all-consuming passions.

I’ll pay you back for that

Procopius of Caesarea (c. 500 to after 562), a lawyer by training, was military secretary to Justinian. As such, he was an eye-witness to many of the events which he describes, with commendable objectivity, in his The Wars of Justinian. However, in addition he wrote the Secret History, a vicious and scurrilous attack on Justinian and Theodora — particularly Theodora. Just why he should have taken against her so venomously is a mystery; I’m tempted to think that something like the incident I’ve described may have been the cause.

Chapter 10

an invitation from the Peacock Throne

For dramatic reasons I’ve slightly put back the date of Damascius’ and Simplicius’ acceptance. They (plus five other Athenian professors: Eulamius, Priscian, Hermeias, Diogenes and Isidore) set off for Ctesiphon after the new Great King — Chosroes (Khusro) — had invited them following his enthronement in 532.

You can’t touch me — it’s against the law

Up to this time there had existed, as Robert Browning says in his Justinian and Theodora, ‘general immunity’ from corporal punishment for the upper classes. He then goes on to relate how John of Cappadocia’s subordinates ‘dared to imprison and flog men of high social position for non-payment of taxes’.

devastated by a terrible earthquake

In the interests of simplification, I have conflated the terrible earthquake of 526 (in which, according to Procopius, many public buildings were flattened, and 300,000 people killed) with the less severe one of 29 November 528.

to ferry her across the Bosphorus

To enable Theodora to reach her destination expeditiously, I have contracted the time the trip would have taken. By the shortest route, Hieron was above four miles from the nearest harbour in Constantinople.

a complete reform of Roman Law

This hugely ambitious and historic project (which still has relevance today) was achieved with incredible speed, with no sacrifice of scale or thoroughness — thanks to the energy, expertise, and organizing ability of Tribonian, the great jurist commissioned by Justinian to see it through. The Code of 529 was followed in 533 by the Digest, a carefully edited and condensed compilation of all the responses of jurisconsults (such as Gaius and Papimian) of the classical period — a mind-boggling task involving the reduction of three million lines of text to one hundred and fifty thousand! To enable lawyers easily to comprehend and utilize the great new legal corpus, a training-manual for law students — the Institutes (in use until the twentieth century) — was published in the same year as the Digest. Today, Tribonian’s great work forms the basis of the law of many European countries, especially that of Scotland and Holland.

free to love each other outwith marriage

A rather liberal interpretation on Macedonia’s part, of one aspect of certain secret rites exclusive to unmarried women in the classical Greek period, in which Sapphic practices took place. (In her fascinating television series about ancient Sparta, Bettany Hughes refers, in this context, to ‘girl on girl’ liaisons.)

the two hundred and third from the Founding of New Rome

Events in the Eastern Empire were now increasingly being dated from the founding of Constantinople — anno regiae urbis conditae, rather than by the consuls (whose office anyway was soon to be abolished) for a particular year. The system of dating from the founding of Constantinople (AD 330) can be seen in the Chronicle of Marcellinus Comes (not to be confused with the fourth century historian Ammianus Marcellinus) — an invaluable source of information for the early Justinianic period. The Chronicle ends in 534, but was continued in an Additamentum (covering the years 534 to 548) by an anonymous ‘Continuator’.

Chapter 11

appointed as quaesitor

The office was actually created by Justinian a few years later, in 535. But as its purpose was to deal with public order offences, it seemed appropriate to introduce it here.

Chapter 12

more civilized values than in Sulla’s time

Which made the executions of Sunday, 11 January all the more shocking, especially as the government was widely blamed for provoking the disturbance in the first place. In England, as recently as the early nineteenth century, there existed close on two hundred capital offences (mainly for crimes against property), some of them bizarrely harsh: ‘stealing anything whatsoever from a bleaching-field’, ‘cutting down young fruit-trees at night’ (my italics) etc. By comparison, Justinian’s Empire seems, in this context, a model of enlightened humanity — capital punishment, even for murder, being rarely carried out.

In Justinian’s tablinum. . were assembled

In addition to those persons mentioned in the text, Narses was also present. However, as his part in the ensuing events was peripheral, I have not included him. On the evidence available it seems unlikely that Procopius was actually present; Count Marcellinus, on the other hand, might well have been, especially as he is known to have been a loyal supporter of Justinian. The two agentes are conjectural. For the purposes of the plot, I have included Procopius at the meeting, portraying him as a sort of double agent — ‘an ear of Julianus planted in the Palace’. Artistic licence; but his private loathing of the royal couple (as clearly demonstrated in his Secret History) makes such a role entirely in character. The false rumour that Justinian had fled was actually started by one Thomas, an imperial secretary, due to a misunderstanding.

Chapter 13

based on the basilica

Notable examples of this type of church still standing are: S. Apollinare Nuovo, in Ravenna, Sta Sabina and S. Paolo fuori le Mura, in Rome, Constantine’s Church of the Holy Wisdom, in Bethlehem — to name but four.

marbles of every hue

A contemporary poet, Paul the Silentiary, describes in a poem, Descriptio Sanctae Sophiae, the various stones and marbles used to decorate the interior of the church: the Carystian — pale, with iron veins; the green marble of Laconia; the Carian — from Mount Iassis, with oblique veins, white and red; the Lydian — pale, with a red flower; etc.

Chapter 14

Some of us who love Rome

The tendency of people in modern times to see the citizens of the East Roman Empire as somehow not being ‘real’ Romans, was certainly not shared by those citizens themselves. As Antony Bridge in his brilliant book Theodora says of them, ‘They were. . intensely conscious of being an heir to the eternal world of Rome. . their pride in themselves as Romans became even greater than it had been before the barbarians began to encroach upon the Empire. . Their role as defenders of civilization often seemed a very lonely one’.

Emerging from the tunnel at the coast

In the seventh century, the Berber princess Al-Kahina was besieged in the amphitheatre by Muslim forces. A strong tradition has it that the building was connected by a tunnel to the coast, enabling Al-Kahina to taunt the besiegers by waving fresh fish from the topmost tier of seats. But could the tunnel story be just that — a story, perhaps deriving from the fact that an underground aqueduct leads to the amphitheatre? Whatever its origins, I felt that the legend was too good not to use.

Chapter 15

the long cavalry column

In the text, I have simplified the appearance of the units in the column, so as not to overload the reader with information. On the march, cataphracts would have stowed their armour in a case behind their saddles. In addition to spare horses, riders would have taken the following impedimenta: small tent or extra cloak (a heavy one) for bivouacking, 20–30 lbs. of hardtack, flour, or other provisions, water-bottle, cooking utensils, cloak, javelin cases, spare horseshoes or, if the horse was unshod, a hoof-cleaning tool. Strategikon — a sixth century military manual by one Mauricius — is a mine of information for such details.

stocky. . men with yellowish skins and flat Oriental faces

The Huns — who burst upon the scene in the late fourth century, forcing the Goths to take refuge in the Roman Empire (an event which set off a chain reaction resulting, a century later, in the Fall of the Western Empire) — were most likely of Mongol stock from Central Asia. Some scholars equate the Huns with the Hsiung-Nu who long terrorized China, and Gibbon, referring to Jordanes’ famous description of Attila, affirms that it corresponds in all details to that of ‘a modern Calmuck’. The Kalmucks, according to The New Penguin English Dictionary, are ‘a group of Mongolian peoples inhabiting a region stretching from W China to the Caspian Sea’.

Chapter 16

Theoderic. . had proved a model ruler

Given a Roman education in his youth as a hostage in Constantinople, Theoderic succeeded his father as king of the Ostrogoths, a Germanic tribe who had settled in the East Roman Empire. Emperor Zeno persuaded the Romanophile Theoderic to lead his people to Italy which he would take over as the emperor’s vicegerent (in reality to rid the Empire of a potentially dangerous threat). There was just one problem — Italy was already under the rule of another German monarch, Odovacar, who had seized control in AD 476 after sending the last Western emperor into exile. Nothing daunted however, Theoderic defeated Odovacar, to become for most of his long reign of thirty-three years (493–526) one of the best rulers Italy ever had, establishing a system of benevolent apartheid for Goths and Romans. Towards the end of his life he became justifiably suspicious that Italian senators were plotting with Justinian (eminence grise to his uncle, the emperor Justin) for Italy to be reintegrated into the Roman Empire. As a result, his final years were darkened by acts of savage retribution. (See John Moorhead’s excellent Theoderic in Italy.)

Goths should man the army. . Romans. . the administration

Despite some scholars (e.g. Ensslin, Theoderich) insisting otherwise, the rule was not set in concrete. A few Romans, such as a certain Cyprianus and Count Colosseus served in the army, while Wilia the Comes Patrimonii, Triwila the Praepositus Sacri Cubili and the senator Arigern were Goths. All the above were, however, exceptional.

Chapter 17

his markedly Teutonic features

Coins from Theodahad’s short reign (534–536), especially a bronze forty-nummi piece depicting the king in profile wearing a Spangenhelm, show an archetypally Germanic physiognomy — an image that surely would have gladdened the heart of Hitler. However, as an exemplar of some Aryan uber race, Theodahad would have proved a sad disappointment to der Fuhrer — timidity, vacillation, greed, and self-delusion being the Gothic monarch’s predominant character traits.

The ritual of bathing

I have based my description of a Roman bath-house on the reconstructed one at Wallsend, the remains of one at Chesters (both sites on Hadrian’s Wall), the famous complex at Bath, and (because Turkish baths are the direct descendants of Roman ones, with which they are virtually identical) the Turkish baths at Portobello, Edinburgh — where the old Roman terminology: caldarium, tepidarium, etc. is alive and well today! In a typical Roman bathing suite, a steam room (sudatorium) was not obligatory, but would have been an optional extra. (‘There were many variations on the sequence. . cold and hot, moist and dry. .’. Philip Wilkinson, What The Romans Did For Us.)

In the steam room at Portobello, the temperature of the steam is in the region of 50 °C. If heated to 100 °C, I was assured it would cause the blood to boil, death occurring after around twenty minutes to half an hour. (‘The steam rising from boiling water in an open vessel is of the same temperature as the water — viz. 212°F; but notwithstanding this, it contains a great deal more heat’. Chambers’ Encyclopaedia, 1888.)

Some sources say that Theodahad had Amalasuntha strangled, others that he had her murdered in her bath — which allowed me, I think, to despatch her in the way I have described.

Today, Bolsena (anciently Volsinii) is a favourite stopping-off point for tourists en route to Orvieto with its famous cathedral. The circular lake (a crater lake set in a basalt plateau ringed by mountains) is popular with swimmers, who can be joined by remarkably tame ducks, its waters being pleasantly cool thanks to an altitude of c. 1,000 feet. The area, noted for its association with the powerful Farnese family, is rich in Etruscan remains. On the triangular-shaped island of Martana, the remains of the castellum where Amalasuntha met her end, can still be seen. A tourist attraction with less grisly associations is the Capodimonte porcelain factory, situated near the lake.

Chapter 18

Dear ‘Cato’. ‘Cato’, ‘Regulus’ et al.

in the spirit of Libertas, these noms de guerre are borrowed from celebrated Romans noted for their staunch championing of Republican values. (Shades of ‘Jacques One, Two, and Three’ in Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.)

events as they now stand

In the text, a detailed account of the dreary catalogue of marches, sorties, sieges, attacks and counter-attacks (including the mutinies in Africa and Sicily), which make up the initial phases of the Gothic War, would, I suspect, have tested the patience of most readers. To avoid this, I resorted to that well-worn (but handy) device of summarizing the key points by means of an interchange of letters.

the Tomb of Cecilia Metella

This huge brick-built drum from the Augustan period, situated outside Rome on a well-preserved section of the Appian Way (built by the censor Appius Claudius from 312 BC), was converted into a castle in the fourteenth century.

I’m assured he’ll be released ere long

Some hope! — his imprisonment lasted altogether four years. After his release, Peter continued a long and distinguished career, becoming Master of Offices, and carrying out important diplomatic missions into the 560s.

Chapter 19

the two women. . concocted a plot

When it comes to ruthless scheming and the ability to manipulate members of the male sex, especially husbands, Antonina and Theodora make the likes of Lucretia Borgia and Cleopatra look like amateurs. (Their ‘framing’ of John of Cappadocia to bring about his downfall is a classic revenge plot worthy of the Mafia.) Although Theodora could be devious and unscrupulous in striving to achieve her goals (witness her likely connection with Amalasuntha’s murder), she was driven by motives in themselves commendable — ferocious loyalty towards her husband and her friends, unselfish concern for the welfare of her proteges.

Antonina’s character, on the other hand, is not redeemed, as far as can be ascertained, by any trace of altruism. Self-gratification seems to have been her chief motivation, and she showed no shame or scruple in her attempts to satisfy it. One example will suffice to illustrate this. With breathtaking brazenness, she seduced her and Belisarius’ adopted son, Theodosius (a youth half her age), and carried on the affair right under her husband’s nose while accompanying him on campaign in Africa, Sicily and Italy. Even when discovered in flagrante delicto, she managed to pull the wool over the eyes of the doting Belisarius. On one occasion, she was denounced to Belisarius, with clear evidence of guilt, by servants; on another by her own son Photius (from a liaison preceding her marriage to Belisarius). In each case, the whistleblowers were rewarded for their pains by execution and imprisonment, respectively. When eventually (the presumably exhausted) Theodosius fled to a monastery to escape the demands of his insatiable lover, Antonina — with the assistance of her devoted friend, Theodora — tracked him down and had him re-installed in the bosom of the family. (Soon afterwards, according to Gibbon, ‘Theodosius expired in the first fatigues of an amorous interview’!)

Regarding the plot to have Silverius replaced by Vigilius, I have telescoped some of the events, and taken one or two liberties with the (probably true) account of his death by starvation on an island west of Naples. But the facts as I have presented them in the story are substantially those that history records. None of the four main protagonists emerge from the affair with any credit. The worst that can be said of Justinian and Belisarius however, is that they were weak — meekly going along with their wives’ demands, against the dictates of their consciences.

The stories behind the Silverius/Vigilius plot, Antonina’s affair with Theodosius, and the fall of John of Cappadocia are recounted in graphic and fascinating detail by Antony Bridge in his Theodora. Ironically, after being shoehorned into the Vatican, Vigilius proved a sad let-down to Theodora. Unwilling to offend the staunchly Orthodox clergy and people of Italy (and thus weaken his position as Pope), he procrastinated endlessly about implementing her wishes. The impasse was eventually overtaken by events of a catastrophic nature — as will be seen in later chapters.

a dark, triangular fin slicing through the water

While sharks that are dangerous to man are mostly encountered in tropical waters, they are, or were until recently, not uncommon in the Mediterranean — including the fearsome Great White Shark (which actually prefers temperate seas to warm ones). This species tends to cruise in shallow water near the coast, which of course would have put Silverius in danger as he approached the shore. Shark attacks in the Mediterranean on humans have been recorded from Ancient Greek times onwards.

Chapter 20

dropping anchor beside Trajan’s Mole

This enormous structure — 2,000 feet in length — can still be seen, as can a triumphal arch erected for the same emperor.

he’s still in Ariminum

In fact, John refused to evacuate Rimini when ordered to do so by Belisarius. This flagrant act of disobedience received the backing of Narses, who proceeded to tell Belisarius to relieve the town — thus adding insult to injury!

when the old man became a god

Prior to Constantine under whom Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, emperors, on dying, were deemed to become gods, acquiring thereby the title ‘Divus’. This was a piece of state propaganda that probably few people, especially among the upper classes, took very seriously — witness the remark of one expiring emperor: ‘I believe I am turning into a god!’ Shades of the god-emperors of Japan, a status surviving into modern times.

the spat developing between their two commanders

The clash between the two generals (arising from the extraordinary rider to his commission which enabled Narses to outrank Belisarius whenever he felt it appropriate to do so) created a poisonous atmosphere of acrimony and dissent, which at times virtually paralyzed the progress of the war, and was directly responsible for the failure to relieve Milan.

B.’s capture of Ravenna in a bloodless coup

Displaying a failure of nerve that was not untypical, Justinian ordered Belisarius to abandon the siege of Ravenna (which the emperor had been led to believe was virtually impregnable) and make the best terms he could with the Goths — in case troops had to be diverted to the east in the event of Persian aggression. Italy would then be divided between the Romans, who would retain the land south of the Po, and the Goths, who would keep the rest — mainly consisting of their heartland, the Plain of Lombardy. Belisarius however, was made of sterner stuff than his emperor. Ignoring the order, he pretended to agree with a secret proposal of the Goths that he become Western emperor in return for a power-sharing deal with them. He was then allowed to enter Ravenna with his army, whereupon the Goths surrendered — only to discover that they had been tricked. Belisarius, who had no intention of honouring the deal, informed the Gothic leaders that he was occupying Ravenna in Justinian’s name and that the Ostrogothic kingdom was no more. (Gibbon suggests that Ravenna was captured late in 539, rather than 540 — the year most sources give.)

half a million put to the sword and the city razed

The population of Milan — then as now Italy’s second city — has been estimated to number c. 500,000 at the time. Displaying his usual common sense, Gibbon (in contrast to most historians) is highly sceptical about the notion of total genocide and destruction being visited on a conurbation of this magnitude. He suggests that dividing the reported number slain (300,000 males alone) by ten, and assuming that the city’s walls rather than its buildings were levelled, would give a more credible picture. Though inclined to agree with Gibbon, for dramatic reasons I have, in the story, stuck with the generally accepted version of the fate of Milan.

the Year of the Consul Basilius

After a lapse of several years, a consul, Basilius, was elected for the year 540. His diptych shows him in his consular robes, beside him — hand on his shoulder — an allegorical figure of Rome. Basilius wears a most apprehensive expression — caused by worry about the colossal expense of throwing his consular Games, or concern regarding the imminent demise of the office he represents? He was in fact to be the very last consul. (The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Justinian suggests a date of 541 for Basilius. As, however, Gibbon gives 539 as the final consular year, I decided to split the difference and settle for 540.)

as once You did to Constantine

Justinian is referring to the famous incident — one of the most important single events in the history of Christianity, when Constantine, about to do battle with his rival Maxentius for mastery of the Roman Empire, beheld in the sky a cross (cloud formation?) — the emblem of the hitherto persecuted Christian sect. Interpreting the vision as a sign from God, he instructed his soldiers to paint the symbol on their shields. In the ensuing battle at the Milvian Bridge (still in use) outside Rome in 312, Constantine was victorious and the rest, as they say, is history. .

Khusro was contemplating ending the treaty

For dramatic reasons, I have deferred Khusro’s invasion of Syria until Chapter 21, so as not to spoil Justinian’s moment of triumph on hearing the news of the capture of Ravenna — which must have seemed to bring the Gothic War to a glorious conclusion. In fact, according to most sources, the news arriving in Constantinople of Khusro’s ‘putsch’ preceded — just — the tidings that Ravenna had fallen (March and May 540 respectively). If, however, we accept Gibbon’s argument that Ravenna in fact fell in late 539 rather than in early 540, then the order of events as I’ve presented them can stand. (See Gibbon’s footnote on the capture of Ravenna in Chapter 41 of his Decline and Fall.)

Elsewhere in Chapter 20, in order to present a reasonably coherent picture from the shifting pattern of sieges, blockades, reliefs, reductions and ‘pushes’ which constitute the main strategic events in Italy for the years 538–540 (a crucially important period in the first phase of the Gothic War), I have gone in for some pruning and telescoping without, I trust, distorting the essential facts.

Chapter 21

the age-old contest between Persia and Rome

If we broaden the term ‘Rome’ to ‘the Greeks and Romans’, and ‘Persia’ to include successively: the empire begun by Cyrus in 537 BC, the Parthian state which lasted from 246 BC to AD 218, and its successor the Sassanian Empire, then, by the reign of Justinian, the Graeco-Roman world had been at war with Persia for over a thousand years — allowing for an interregnum (329–246 BC) when the country had come under the sway of Alexander and his successors. For a time — in the 610s and 20s — it looked as if Persia might overrun the East Roman state, but in 628 the tables were turned decisively in Rome’s favour when the emperor Heraclius utterly crushed Khusro II. Then, just when it seemed that Rome had emerged the final victor. . (For the ‘Final Solution’ to the millenium-long struggle, see Afterword.)

as once we served Valerian

In AD 260, the Roman emperor Valerian, along with his 70,000-strong army was captured by the Persians, who for many years displayed his skin as a grisly trophy of war.

a legitimate claim to Justinian’s throne

This astonishing assertion was not without an element of justification. Near the end of Justin’s reign, when Khusro (the third and favourite son of the Great King, Kavad) was a young boy, plans (part of a diplomatic entente between Persia and Rome) were drawn up whereby young Khusro would be adopted by the childless Justin. The boy had actually started on the journey to Constantinople when — on the advice of hardliners, particularly the quaestor Proclus — the scheme was cancelled. Had it not been. . (It is fascinating to speculate what might have been the implications for the succession on Justin’s death, if the plan had been implemented.)

their proud Seleucid ancestors

One of the most splendid cities of the ancient world, Antioch was founded c. 300 BC by Seleucus Nicator (in honour of his father Antiochus), one of Alexander’s generals. He began the Seleucid dynasty, whose territory included most of the eastern portion of Alexander’s empire.

Antioch will rise again

‘After his [Khusro’s] return he founded, at the distance of one day’s journey from the palace of Ctesiphon, a new city, which perpetuated the joint names of Chosroes and of Antioch. The Syrian captives recognised the form and situation of their new abodes; baths and a stately circus were constructed for their use, and. . a liberal allowance was assigned to these fortunate exiles. .’ (Gibbon.) A quixotic (but staggeringly generous!) gesture by one of history’s most enigmatic and intriguing personalities. In contrast to Justinian, Khusro was motivated by pragmatism rather than idealism, and possessed both a streak of cruelty and a sense of humour — traits not shared by his great rival.

Chapter 22

thanks to the network of irrigation channels

These, once ubiquitous throughout Mesopotamia, have long fallen into disuse. As a result, most of what is now Iraq has largely reverted to desert.

protection against lions

Ammianus Marcellinus, the fourth-century soldier-turned-historian, mentions (in his The Histories) seeing lions in this area.

a. . silent world of pools, lagoons, and reeds

I trust I may be forgiven for having transposed the world of the marsh Arabs (whose way of life is said to go back to the time of the Sumerians) a few hundred miles north-west from the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates. This is not as capricious as it may sound. Ammianus mentions marshy terrain beside the Euphrates, in the area west of the Naarmalcha Canal (i.e. south of present-day Baghdad) — something that is still the case, as John Keegan in his masterly The Iraq War confirms: ‘Manoeuvre along this stretch of the Euphrates [near Karbala, south of Baghdad] was difficult. The river banks were high, the surrounding ground marshy’. So, my depiction of the topography of this area is more, perhaps, a case of judicious borrowing and augmentation rather than unalloyed invention.

The marsh Arabs had, in the course of many centuries, succeeded in creating an environment in which human activity and nature achieved a perfect balance — a unique, unchanging, and arrestingly beautiful world, which aroused the admiration of many environmentalists, as well as explorers such as Wilfred Thesiger. (See his The Marsh Arabs.) To a monster like Saddam Hussein, such an ideal scenario was of course intolerable, and he set about destroying it (by drainage on a massive scale) with brutal efficiency. Since the fall of his regime however, the area is beginning to recover, and there is hope that the way of life of a unique community may yet be saved.

the poisonous miasma supposedly arising from the marsh

The true cause of malaria was unsuspected at that period, and remained so until the beginning of the twentieth century, when (based on work by Laveran, Sir Ronald Ross, Bignami et al.) breakthrough research showed that the disease resulted not from ‘bad air’, but from the bite of the anopheles mosquito.

a huge bull-like creature

Originating in the East Indies, water-buffalo were domesticated in India thence introduced into the Middle East, Egypt, eastern Europe, and, by the sixth century, Italy. Adapted for marshy situations, buffalo are used as beasts of burden mainly in areas where water is a major feature of the terrain — such as paddy-fields, or the homeland of the marsh Arabs. The most notable difference between the Asiatic and the African buffalo is in the horns. In the Asiatic buffalo, the massive horns are long, curved, and lie back towards the shoulders. In the African buffalo, the horns — equally massive — nearly meet on the forehead in a huge boss, and are markedly recurved with upward-turning points. Though less aggressive than its African cousin, in a wild state (or if returned to the wild from domestication) the Asiatic buffalo is savage and dangerous, capable of unprovoked attack. Even in a domesticated state it is apt to resent injury — an attitude extremely characteristic of the African buffalo (which has never been domesticated).

Chapter 23

a pretty, heart-shaped face

This does indeed describe the countenance of the figure immediately to Theodora’s left in the famous San Vitale mosaic panel. But she almost certainly does not represent Macedonia, of whose fate we remain ignorant. So, a piece of, hopefully permissible, artistic licence on my part. (There has been considerable speculation that the figure, in fact, represents Antonina, wife of Belisarius.) Like the other mosaic portraits in the panel, that of Theodora is thought to be a good likeness, its ‘fragility and air of physical delicacy [suggesting] that perhaps the disease that was eventually to kill her may have been already at work in her’. (Antony Bridge, Theodora.) For the purposes of the story, I have commissioned the mosaics a few years earlier than was actually the case.

Chapter 24

impatient of discipline

A fatal weakness. Despite their great size and strength, plus ferocious courage, Germans were invariably defeated by Roman troops (provided these were properly led), thanks to Roman discipline and superior equipment. The only exceptions to this were when Germans attacked in overwhelming numbers — as on the last day of 406 when a vast confederation of barbarian tribes crossed the frozen Rhine, or when a leader of exceptional quality, capable of imposing discipline and teamwork, took charge. Examples of such Germans are extremely rare: Hermann/Arminius who led a confederation which wiped out three legions in the Teutoburger Forest in AD 9; Fritigern, under whom the Goths destroyed a huge Roman army at Adrianople in 378; perhaps Alaric; and of course Totila. Otherwise. .? (Although he was undoubtedly a great military leader, Theoderic can’t be included, as his victories were against barbarians, not Romans.)

a band of brothers

Besides Totila, some other charismatic leaders capable of inspiring huge personal loyalty are: Alexander, Caesar, Alfred the Great, Robert the Bruce, Henry V, Joan of Arc, Napoleon and (unfortunately) Hitler.

staffing it [the administration]. . with humble Romans

Theoderic’s system in Italy whereby the Goths manned the army, and the Romans the administration, had worked well. Native Romans had by this time lost their taste for fighting, whereas every Gothic male was a warrior. Romans, on the other hand, alone possessed the know-how to manage the complexities of the civil service. The only change here that Totila made was to staff the administration with Romans from a lower social stratum than heretofore.

this second Petronius Arbiter

Petronius, ‘Arbiter Elegentiae’ (memorably played by Leo Genn in the film Quo Vadis?), was a sort of intellectual and cultural guru at the court of Nero. His brilliant satire, Trimalchio’s Feast (the centrepiece of a fragmentary work, The Satyricon), gleefully trashes the pretensions of Roman nouveaux riches. You wonder how he might have responded to today’s celebrity culture — perhaps with a satire entitled, Party at Beckingham Palace?

Chapter 25

the causes of the pestilence

Ignorance as to what caused the bubonic plague of the 540s (the same disease as the Black Death of 1348-49 and the Great Plague of 1665) prevailed, as with malaria, until the early twentieth century. It was then established that the disease is caused in humans by the bacterium pasteurella pestis entering the bloodstream via the bite of a flea — Xenopsylla Cheopsis — whose favourite mode of transport was the warm fur of black rats. It is thought that the rats — moving down the Nile valley from plague-ridden Ethiopia — reached the Egyptian port of Pelusium, whence, spread by ships, the plague became a pandemic, spreading west as far as Wales and east perhaps as far as China. The crowded conditions of most East Roman towns and cities — especially Constantinople — together with rotting piles of refuse outside city walls, provided ideal breeding grounds for rats, which helps to account for the terrifying speed with which the plague spread. (Infection was caused not by contagion but by transfer of fleas, which in crowded conditions virtually amounted to the same thing.) Procopius’ description of the plague’s symptoms and effects is both detailed and commendably accurate.

Competition with brown rats eventually caused a severe decline in the population of the black rat, and thus of the plague itself.

some association with rats

I plead guilty to selective omission here, as John of Ephesus, commenting on the plague, mentions other animals besides rats. However, the fact that he mentions rats at all gives food for intriguing speculation. If physicians of the time had come to associate the plague with rats specifically, then a connection of the disease with rat-borne fleas might eventually have been made, enabling measures of control and avoidance to be taken.

headless figures sitting in bronze boats

John of Ephesus reports people experiencing such visions in areas affected by the plague. Could he have been implying that these were hallucinations?

one of a new breed of appointees

Rather as political and professional advancement in Soviet Russia depended on your being a card-carrying Communist, professing adherence to Marxist-Leninist dogma, so in Justinian’s Empire, subscription to Chalcedonian Orthodoxy was a prerequisite to obtaining a teaching post. A sign (of which the closing of the Schools of Athens was another) that the classical world, with its traditions of intellectual freedom and rational enquiry, was coming to an end.

Chapter 26

this firebrand priest

Despite Theodora’s passionate championing of their cause, by 540 ferocious persecution (directed principally by Menas, Patriarch of Constantinople, backed by Justinian) had reduced the Monophysites outside Egypt to a state of cowed powerlessness. Then, in 543, everything changed. In that year, one Jacob ‘Baradaeus’ (meaning ‘ragged’ from his favourite disguise as a beggar) was permitted to be consecrated Monophysite bishop of Edessa. (Delicate political considerations involving the Monophysite king of an Arab buffer-state dictated that the concession go ahead.) For the Chalcedonian establishment, this proved to be a fatal mistake; they soon found they had unleashed a whirlwind. Imagine a personality imbued with all the toughness, resilience, charisma and sheer power of leadership of a combined Robin Hood-Zorro-Che Guevara-Mahatma Ghandi figure, and you have Jacob Baradaeus. Travelling incognito throughout the eastern provinces, ordaining priests and bishops and running rings around the imperial agents assigned to catch him, he succeeded, almost single-handedly, in re-kindling the dying fires of the persecuted creed. By the time Justinian issued his famous Edict of late 543 or early 544, the Monophysites were once again ascendant in the east.

Both Palace and Gate still extant

Re the Lateran Palace, mediaeval fabric has mostly replaced Roman; the Baptistery however is entirely fifth-century work. The Asinarian Gate — perhaps the finest in the whole circuit of the Aurelian Walls — survives in all its original glory.

a condemnation of certain century-old writings

In the text, I have done my best to outline (as simply as possible, in order to spare the reader) the basic issues involved in the apocalyptic row known as the Three Chapters controversy. The Three Chapters: it sounds innocuous enough. But once I started to scratch beneath the surface and are confronted with: ‘. . while the Divinity of the Logos is to be distinguished from the temple of the flesh, yet there remained but one person in the God-man. .’, or, ‘. . while granting the true Divinity and humanity of Christ, he [Nestorius] denied their union in a single hypostasis. .’, I began to suspect that I had tangled with something in which I could soon find myself out of my depth. Hoping for illumination, I turned from primary sources to more modern ones. As a true son of the Enlightenment, Gibbon treats the subject with magnificent disdain, dismissing it in three contemptuous lines: ‘. . the East was distracted by the Nestorian. . controversy, which attempted to explain the mystery of the incarnation, and hastened the ruin of Christianity in her native land. .’ So, not much help there, then. Antony Bridge (in his Theodora), Robert Browning (in his Justinian and Theodora), and Claire Sotinel (in her article ‘Emperors and Popes in the Sixth Century’ — Chapter 11 of The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Justinian), all struggle valiantly to explain the theological metaphysics of Nestorius, Theodore, Theoderet and Ibas. To them I owe a debt of gratitude for whatever (limited) understanding I’ve been able to glean concerning the Three Chapters.

For the sake of clarity and pace, I’ve somewhat telescoped the main events of the controversy, and emphasized the roles played by the apocrisiarius Stephen (whose denunciation of Justinian’s Edict I have, for dramatic reasons, relocated from Constantinople to Rome), and Facundus, bishop of Hermiane. (Vigilius’ self-serving vacillation needed no underscoring on my part!) This approach is justified, I think, for the following reason. Without some selective highlighting and streamlining in its presentation, the whole Three Chapters topic (which is important for our understanding both of Justinian and of his times) could appear to the average reader as an impenetrable thicket of Christological subtleties.

Chapter 27

Theoctistus — formerly the army’s most brilliant surgeon

Procopius (in his The Wars of Justinian) describes in graphic detail an incident that took place during the siege of Rome, in which Theoctistus successfully treated a soldier horrendously wounded by an arrow between the nose and the right eye, ‘the point of the arrow penetrating as far as the neck behind’, whom other physicians were reluctant to operate on, in case they caused the patient’s death. Roman medical practice, especially in the army, was highly sophisticated and efficient — of a standard unrivalled until modern times. The tool-kit of a Roman medicus, with its array of needles, probes, catheters, lancets, forceps, scissors, etc., would be instantly recognizable to a surgeon of today. Though often brilliant in their ability to cope with ‘accident and emergency’ type injuries, the Romans’ competence in the field of invasive surgery was limited, being primarily confined to lithotomy, the removal of fistulae and the excision of some cancers, provided they were not too deep. Though of course knowing nothing of infection caused by germs, Roman doctors were aware from experience that cleanliness could aid recovery. Roman hospitals, especially army ones, were probably a good deal more hygienic than any operating at, say, the time of Waterloo.

Chapter 28

become in turn the Western emperor

Thus reviving Diocletian’s neat but somewhat arid constitutional device known as the Tetrarchy: two ‘Augusti’ (one for the East, one for the West), with two ‘Caesars’ — emperors-in-waiting, who would replace the Augusti in due course. That was the theory; in practice it could break down, when power-hungry usurpers ignored the formula.

leaving his son to become the Western emperor

Germanus’ son (by Matasuntha) was in fact born posthumously.

I’ll be blunt, Serenity

In an age of subservience and protocol, Narses was noted for speaking his mind to Justinian — and being listened to (probably because his advice was invariably sound, and Justinian, unlike many Roman emperors, was, at bottom, a reasonable and fair-minded man).

pushing up the Via Flaminia from Rome

Losing count of the number of times Rome changed hands during the long Gothic War, I often found myself referring to a useful list compiled by Gibbon giving the various dates on which it was captured: ‘In. . 536 by Belisarius, in 546 by Totila, in 547 by Belisarius, in 549 by Totila, in 552 by Narses’. Determined to break the cycle of siege and capture, Totila was about to demolish the walls when he was dissuaded by Belisarius, who pointed out that such an act would make the Gothic king ‘abhorred by all civilized men’. Such generous restraint on Totila’s part (for which the modern tourist, who today is able to walk around the circuit of the walls in all their splendour, can be grateful) shows that civilized attitudes between enemies could still prevail — before the long campaign descended into ‘total war’, that is.

the nation of the Ostrogoths had ceased forever to exist

There is a terrible Wagnerian grandeur about the fate of the Ostrogoths — a heroic people who first emerge into the light of history, fighting (on the ‘wrong’ side) for Attila in the Battle of the Catalaunian Fields in 451, and vanish from it following the disaster of Busta Gallorum/Tadinae in 552. The ‘Ostrogothic century’ encompasses: first, Volkerwanderung on an epic scale — a search for a homeland throughout the Eastern Empire, followed by mass migration to Italy under their hero-king Theoderic (vice-gerent of the Eastern emperor); then a long and bloody war against Odovacar, king of another Germanic people, the Sciri, to secure their Italian homeland; finally — following a long period of harmonious ‘apartheid’ with the Romans, under Theoderic’s enlightened reign — their extinction as a people, resulting from Justinian’s obsession with reconstructing the Western Empire. (See my Theoderic.)

Theoderic and Totila surely represent all that is best in the Teutonic character — courage and determination in the face of adversity, magnanimity, honour. Confronted by the overwhelming might of Narses’ Roman army at Busta Gallorum, Totila must have known this was the end. Hence, I believe, his amazing war-dance before the battle; at least he and his warriors would go out in a blaze of glory. Surely this scene (which reflects a Teutonic strain of heroic resignation and defiance in the face of certain death) has echoes down the centuries: in Beowulf, in the great Anglo-Saxon war-poem The Battle of Maldon (‘Heart shall be bolder, harder be purpose, more proud the spirit as our power lessens!’), in the last stand of King Harold’s huscarls at Hastings, in the defence of the Alamo.

Chapter 29

the year that witnessed the destruction of the Ostrogoths

Some sources date the introduction of sericulture into the Roman Empire as 552, others as 554. A convenient discrepancy, as it enabled me to have the monks complete the round trip in two years (the usual time), after obtaining the commission from Justinian.

a description. . of our Church of the Holy Wisdom

Paul the Silentiary’s long and detailed work, which elaborates on the coloured marbles, precious stones and gold and silver objects in the building, was indeed recited to the emperor — not in fact in 552 as I’ve suggested, but in 562 at the second dedication of the church.

I would not have that on my conscience

Thus echoing (fictitiously) a sentiment of Vespasian. When it was suggested to that emperor that a special new machine (pulley-system? crane?) be used to convey heavy loads in the construction of the Colosseum, Vespasian declined, saying that its adoption would deprive many poor labourers of their living (which seems to confound the popular notion that the Flavian Amphitheatre was constructed mainly by slave labour).

Gibbon laments a lost opportunity in the failure of the monks to introduce printing to the West, nearly a millennium before Gutenberg: ‘I reflect with some pain that if the importers of silk had introduced the art of printing, already practised by the Chinese, the comedies of Menander and the entire decads of Livy would have been perpetuated in the editions of the sixth century’.

the imposing gateway at the end of China’s Great Wall

Jiayuguan today (a rebuilding of the Ming dynasty) is an imposing spectacle, carefully restored to something like its original splendour. In Justinian’s time, it marked China’s western limit. Since then, a vast new province, Xinjiang, has extended China’s border many hundreds of miles further to the west, taking in the lands of the Uighurs and the Kazaks. These are Turkic people — very different from the Han Chinese in ethnicity, culture, and religion (many being Muslim). Chinese occupation has resulted in considerable friction with the indigenous population, leading to political protest, which the Chinese authorities (displaying their usual horror and intolerance of dissent) invariably put down with harsh severity.

Some sources have the monks smuggling out the silkworm eggs from China itself, others from ‘Chinese-controlled Sogdiana’. Surely the first theory is the more likely. For such an important and jealously guarded state secret as sericulture, would the Chinese have permitted it to be carried on elsewhere than within the Celestial Kingdom itself? Somehow, I doubt it. Moreover, I remain to be convinced that Sogdiana/Bactria was actually ‘controlled’ by China in any meaningful sense; that it came within the Chinese sphere of influence is perhaps the most that can be argued.

a. . species of enormous bear

This is Ursus Torquatus, larger even than the fearsome Kodiak. The sheep mentioned is the species now known as the Marco Polo Sheep.

Chapter 30

this latest theological dogma

‘His [Justinian’s] edict on the incorruptibility of Christ’s body. . is difficult to understand’. (Lucas Van Rompay, Chapter 10, The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Justinian.) The above quotation has to be the understatement to beat all understatements! Aphthartodocetism, in the words of Van Rompay, argued that ‘Christ’s body transcended human corruptibility and was aphthartos [incorruptible], even though Christ of his free will — not out of necessity — submitted himself to corruption and suffering’. Just how Justinian imagined that this impenetrable doctrine (which seems if anything to lean towards Monophysitism) was going to resolve the split between the Chalcedonians and the Monophysites, is hard to see. Robert Browning in his Justinian and Theodora affirms that Justinian ‘had again and again said exactly the opposite in the past’, and goes on to admit that ‘The matter is a mystery and will probably always remain one’. The decree containing the Aphthartodocetist dogma has not survived, but was probably promulgated in 565, a few months before the emperor’s death. It seemed appropriate to introduce the doctrine into the story somewhat earlier than this, as Justinian must have thought about the matter long and hard, before issuing his decree.

bronze equestrian statue of the emperor

This occupied a prominent place in the Augusteum. Although melted down for cannon by the Turks after 1453, we know what it looked like from a drawing made before its disappearance. It is thought to have represented Achilles rather than the Roman general I’ve portrayed in the text.

yet another. . tribe of steppe-nomads

Like the Huns before them and the followers of Genghis Khan after them, another fearsome Mongol horde — the Avars — swept across Europe in the sixth century, establishing a vast empire stretching from France to the Black Sea, while maintaining an uneasy alliance with the Romans. This precarious peace ended in the following century, when the Avars crossed the Danube, overran the Balkans, and nearly captured Constantinople. They introduced the use of stirrups into Europe, thus facilitating the eventual emergence of the heavily armoured mediaeval knight.

His victory against the Kotrigurs

While keeping essentially to the known facts of this bizarre and fascinating interlude, I have, for dramatic reasons, combined its two separate strands into a single event: Belisarius’ tricking Zabergan into thinking his force many times larger than it really was, followed by his luring the Kotrigurs into an ambush and killing four hundred of them; Justinian’s deal with Zabergan, which actually took place a little later, and his subsequent return in triumph to the capital. For a man of sedentary habits in his late seventies to become actively involved in such a Boys’ Own adventure, is truly astonishing.

Chapter 31

a fresh conspiracy

Apart from invented embellishments concerning the roles of Procopius and the fictitious ‘Horatius’, my description of the plot to assassinate Justinian, and its consequences for Belisarius, closely follows Gibbon’s account. (Chapter 43, Decline and Fall.)

Although the banquet took place in the autumn of 562, and the re-dedication of Hagia Sophia in December of the same year, it seemed appropriate, for dramatic reasons, to have these happen in the story on the same day.

We don’t know if Procopius himself was directly responsible for unmasking the plot to assassinate Justinian; as prefect of the city it would certainly have been within his remit. So it would be surprising had he not been involved in some capacity, especially as we know that he interrogated the conspirators.

Chapter 32

this astonishing outpouring of hate and malice

It is doubtful if Justinian ever read Secret History (Historia Arcana or Anekdota), but if he had, he may well have reacted in the way that I’ve described in the text. It is extraordinary how the author of The Wars of Justinian and On Buildings, in which he gives an objective (and generally favourable) assessment of Justinian’s character, should also be capable of penning a vicious diatribe which, in portraying Justinian as a despicable moral degenerate, and Theodora as a shameless nymphomaniac with perverted tastes, reveals his bitter hatred of the imperial pair. (Belisarius too, comes in for some harsh denigration.) Written towards the end of Procopius’ life, Secret History was probably intended for private circulation among friends, rather than for general publication.

our own Desert Fathers — Antony, Jerome et al.

Born c. 250 in Egypt to rich and pious parents, Antony (‘the father of monachism’) as a young man withdrew into the desert to practise a life of prayer, contemplation, and self-imposed austerities — which attracted the admiration of the many anchorites persuaded to follow his example. In 305 he founded a monastery in Egypt, returning to his desert cell (today inhabited by a venerable priest!) in 311, where he lived — a celebrated hermit — until his death, at over a hundred, in 356.

Jerome was born c. 340 probably in what is now Croatia. Educated in Rome, he travelled to the East where, in 374, he retired to the desert. Here, he spent four years in penitential exercises and study. Ordained priest at Antioch in 379, he became secretary to Pope Damasus, then went on to achieve fame as a polemicist and spiritual director to many pious persons. Best known for his translation of the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate), he also wrote many letters, treatises, and commentaries on Holy Scripture. He died in 420 at Bethlehem.

a pilgrimage. . To the Church of Saint Michael, at Germia’

As he approached the end of his life, two important things happened to Justinian. He undertook a pilgrimage to the remote Church of Saint Michael at Germia in Galatia, a remarkable undertaking for a man of eighty-one with sedentary habits. And he developed a profound interest in a strange doctrine known as Aphthartodocetism (the belief that Christ’s body was incorruptible) to the extent of trying to impose it as dogma on the Roman Empire in a decree of 565 — the year of his death. Intended to resolve the rift between the Monophysites and the Chalcedonians, it became a dead letter following Justinian’s death.

In his Justinian and Theodora, Robert Browning suggests that the emperor was impelled to embark on the pilgrimage to Germia by some dream or vision, or through the suggestion of some of the monks or theologians whose opinions he was increasingly consulting in an attempt to resolve the anxieties which clouded his final years. I have tried to bring these various strands together in my account of the pilgrimage (of necessity resorting to imagination to supplement the paucity of evidence), which I have also linked to Justinian’s obsession with Apthartodocetism.

Which raises the question: could a man as profoundly religious as Justinian have interpreted the abovementioned doctrine in terms of a materialist philosophy such as Lucretius’ Atomic Theory? That would certainly have called for a conversion of Damascene proportions. Still, stranger things have happened. Paul himself, on the road to Damascus, changed from being the arch-persecutor of Christians, to becoming probably Christianity’s most successful proselytizer. Constantine, as a result of a compelling vision, virtually overnight altered the status of Christianity from that of a persecuted minority sect, to the official creed of the Roman Empire. Darwinism, once equated with atheism, is today comfortably accepted by most leading churchmen, including the Archbishop of Canterbury; indeed the Church of England was among the first to embrace the theories of Darwin. Two of anthropology’s leading researchers were priests — Pere Teilhard de Chardin and the Abbe Breuil. Darwin himself, before embarking on a scientific career, seriously considered the priesthood as a vocation! And it was a Catholic priest, Georges Lemaitre, who first proposed the Big Bang theory of the origin of the universe.* Stephen Hawking, one of the greatest scientific thinkers of our time, has spoken of ‘the mind of God’; even the mighty Richard Dawkins, the high priest of atheism, has conceded the possible existence of superhuman intelligence within the universe. Perhaps, in support of my suggestion, the following could be argued. Viewed in a certain light, Lucretius could be seen to provide the sort of intellectual reinforcement for Aphthartodocetism that Justinian — desperate to find a formula to stave off schism in the Church — may not have found unwelcome.

Read De Rerum Natura”’

This great poem in six books, by Titus Carus Lucretius — a contemporary of Cicero and Julius Caesar — is astonishingly modern in feeling. In proposing that the universe and everything in it is composed of an infinite number of atoms, he is popularizing earlier theories of Democritus, Epicurus, and Leucippus — theories very much in accord with current physics. For Lucretius, life, mind and soul are simply functions of man’s corporeal body, the atoms of which disperse at death. Thus anything like individual survival in an afterlife becomes impossible. He explains contagious diseases by the flying about in the air of minute particles — thus anticipating our knowledge of infection spread by germs. His account of the various types of animal life as they successively appeared on earth strikingly suggests ‘the survival of the fittest’, with parallels to Darwin’s theory of evolution. And all this — developed through the sheer power of intellectual reasoning, rather than by scientific experiment!

* Variously given as Cabades, Cobad, Kavadh.

* She got Justinian to enact edicts freeing prostitutes from virtual slavery to brothel-owners, and enhancing women’s legal rights; she championed women’s rights (often over those of men) at every opportunity, and converted a palace into a hostel for the prostitutes she had liberated, where they were helped to begin new lives.

* An extreme example would be that of Aileen Wuornos, a prostitute (with a young female lover) who embarked on a killing spree of her male clients, whom she clearly despised.

* In Dan Brown’s cerebral thriller, The Lost Symbol, mind (according to Noetic Science), not only can affect mattter, it can actually create it. By extension, this could suggest that Mind (i.e. God) preceded and originated the laws of physics plus the Big Bang — which is consistent with the Catholic Aquinian argument for a Prime Mover.