Theodoric

THIRTY-ONE

Despite Theoderic’s rejection of wishful thinking contained in ancient maxims, the Wheel of Fortune spun a full half-circle, and his career, which in the course of his confrontation with the empire had seemed to reach a nadir, began to climb rapidly towards its zenith.

The Ostrogothic army that had failed to rescue Alaric found itself confronted by Clovis’s mighty host. In the ensuing battle, Count Ibba was victorious; the loss of thirty thousand of his finest warriors broke the power of Clovis. Mopping-up operations under Duke Mammo pushed the Franks back beyond the Liger and forced their Burgundian allies to withdraw from Provincia.* With their great persecutor defeated, the grateful remnant of the nation of the Visigoths was happy to be incorporated into the realm of its Ostrogothic cousins; thus, almost at a stroke, Theoderic saw his rule extended over southern Gaul and most of Spain.† The Vandals and Burgundians (conscious of their mistake in having roused a sleeping tiger) returned to their allegiance, while the Heruls, Rhaetians and Thuringians eagerly accepted his overtures and became his allies, forming a protective buffer zone to his kingdom, in the north. Finally, the ring of defences was closed to the eastward by an agreement sub rosa with Sabinianus, whereby Pannonia would quietly once more come under Ostrogothic rule — on the understanding that there would be no more incursions into imperial territory.

With the appointment of a Praetorian Prefect of Gaul (in reality, Gaul south of the Liger), and an ecclesiastical vicar for Spain and the whole of Gaul — the post was confirmed by Pope Symmachus, so had to be accepted, however reluctantly, by the Catholic Franks — Theoderic set the seal upon his triumph — a victory reinforced by the death of his great rival, Clovis.* A few short years had seen his fortunes change from a state of abject humiliation to one where he could, with justification, claim to have reconstituted much of the old Empire of the West. The time was ripe, he told himself, to begin the implementation of long-cherished plans — plans which would see his imperial dreams at last become reality: the official rebirth of the Western Empire, with himself crowned emperor.

‘“It is proper for us, most clement emperor, to seek peace”, blah, blah, blah. “Indeed, peace is something to be desired by every state”, blah, blah, blah. “And so, most pious of princes, it is in accordance with your power and an honour for us”, blah, blah, blah, “to seek concord with you.”’ Anastasius was in conclave, in his private tablinum in the Great Palace of Constantinople, with his two chief generals, Sabinian and Julianus, and Agapitus, the envoy of Theoderic. Anastasius looked up from the king’s letter, which he had been reading aloud. ‘Well, he sounds contrite enough,’ he murmured with a smile, handing the missive back to Agapitus. ‘You may tell your master, our vicegerent, that, provided he keeps to the agreement made with General Sabinianus here — never again to cross our frontier in arms — we accept his offer of peace.’

‘Hear, hear, Serenity,’ enthused Sabinianus. ‘I’d stake my reputation that Theoderic will honour such a mutual agreement. When I negotiated with him about the transfer of Pannonia, I felt that I was dealing with a straight and honest man, one whose word could be relied on. In these sorts of situations, I’ve learned to trust my instinct; I’ve seldom been proved wrong.’

‘Not good enough, Serenity!’ exclaimed Julianus. ‘Considering Theoderic’s outrageous conduct in invading Moesia, he should be made to pay handsomely for reparation, and to come in person to Constantinople and abase himself before your throne. Instead, we hand him back Pannonia, and are prepared, it seems, to treat him as a friend. Kow-towing to barbarians — it’s a disgrace!’

‘I think we can say that the harrying of Magna Graecia, to say nothing of the sacking of Sipontum and Tarentum, more than cancels out any debt of reparation,’ said Anastasius coldly. A compassionate man, he had been deeply troubled by rumours of gratuitous brutality connected with the naval expedition. As a result, Sabinianus had displaced Julian in favour as well as seniority. ‘As for Pannonia,’ the emperor went on, ‘he’s welcome to run it — to him it’s a useful buffer zone, to us a drain on our resources, any revenue from taxes far outweighed by the expenses of administration.’ He looked sternly at Julianus. ‘As Theoderic himself has said, the wars that turned out happily for him were those brought to completion with moderation. A lesson you have yet to learn, it would seem, General.’

And so began a Golden Age for Italy. With peace established, Theoderic’s firm and equitable rule ensured prosperity at home, while abroad his status as a father-figure to all Germanic peoples was unchallenged. A series of dynastic marriages with women of Theoderic’s immediate family helped to create a stability hitherto unknown among the barbarian monarchies of Europe. Under the Pax Theoderica, trade, agriculture and industry flourished to a degree not seen since that happiest of epochs, the near-century from the reign of Nerva to that of Marcus Aurelius. Relations with the East thawed, to the extent that Theoderic’s consular nominees, including the once-spurned Venantius, were confirmed in office by the emperor. Supervised by presidents assisted by ‘correctors’, the administration of Italy’s fifteen regions was run efficiently, and a Gothic tendency to violence and an Italian towards corruption were, if not stamped out, at least severely curbed, by the strict enforcement of the law. Public buildings, which had gradually been permitted to fall into decay, were protected and refurbished under a preservation scheme with its own specially appointed architect.

Content to be guided as to policy by his three Roman chief advisers, Cassiodorus, Symmachus and Boethius, and with leisure to cultivate his orchard in Ravenna and take up again his interest in the arts and literature, the king entered on the happiest period of his life. The only touch of sadness was in the loss of his friendship with Timothy, who was under (not uncomfortable) house arrest. Although that friendship was broken, never to be repaired, the king’s original anger and feeling of betrayal had faded over time to dull regret. He could afford to make a generous gesture: he would arrange a secret test of loyalty; if Timothy passed, his liberty would be restored, along, perhaps, with a small pension, so that the old Isaurian could see out his days without the fear of penury.

And so, in a glow of serenity and peace, the afternoon of Theoderic’s life drew quietly towards its evening. But, unnoticed by him, a cloud had appeared on the horizon, a cloud ‘no bigger than a man’s hand’, which would grow and grow until it filled the sky.

‘My friend from Constantinopolis, and your fellow Anular, Lucius Vettius Priscianus,’ announced Cethegus, introducing his companion (whose dark skin and tightly curled black hair denoted an African origin) to Cassiodorus, Boethius and Symmachus, ensconced in the tablinum of Symmachus’ house in Ravenna. ‘But I was forgetting, Quintus’ — he nodded at his host — ‘you two already know each other.’

‘Indeed we do,’ said Priscianus warmly. ‘When we first met in Constantinople, I had to congratulate him on his command of Greek — better than most native speakers’.’

‘And showed his appreciation by dedicating three treatises to me,’ the senator responded with a smile. He clapped his hands and a slave entered, bearing a tray on which were five goblets and a silver flagon. ‘Let’s toast this reunion in Falernian.’

‘Perhaps later, Quintus,’ Cethegus suggested. ‘Best we keep our heads as clear as possible while I explain the reasons why I’ve called this meeting — which must be strictly sub rosa, by the way.’ Smiling cheerfully, in a significant gesture he drew a finger across his throat.

‘Anastasius is dead at last,’* Cethegus announced, when all were seated, listening, in a silence tinged with apprehension. ‘Expect to hear officially in a day or two; my sources usually provide me with intelligence before the government couriers arrive with news.’

‘And his death means. .?’ prompted Boethius.

‘That the Acacian Schism, too, is dead. Or, if not yet defunct, shortly to become so.’

‘Forgive me, Rufius,’ said Cassiodorus, looking mildly puzzled, ‘but I’ll have to ask you to enlighten me.’

‘Without elaborating on religious niceties,’ Priscian put in, ‘it means that peace, theologically speaking, has broken out between Rome and Constantinople. Our new ruler, Justin — another geriatric emperor — is a tough old soldier from a peasant background. The real power behind the throne is his nephew Justinianus — well educated, and highly intelligent, to boot, by all accounts.’

‘The point is,’ Cethegus observed, picking up on Priscian, ‘that they’re both fervent Chalcedonians — id est, adherents of the doctrine, established by the Council of Chalcedon way back in the reign of Marcian, that Christ has two natures, human and divine. Which, as I’m sure you hardly need reminding, puts them very much in tune with Rome, whose new Pope, Hormisdas, is also strongly Chalcedonian. The Acacian creed, which panders to Monophytism — the belief that Christ has only one, divine, nature, and which, under Zeno and Anastasius, gained ground in Eastern sees — is now almost certainly about to be declared anathema.’

‘Your drift, if I’ve followed you aright,’ said Boethius, ‘is that, with channels of communication soon to be unblocked between East and West, Romans in both Italy and the empire will shortly be exchanging ideas. Am I right?’

‘You are indeed, Anicius Manlius. As I mentioned at our last meeting, there’s a growing feeling on both sides of the Adriatic that Italy should be reunited with the empire. That feeling is articulated and given focus by leading Romans: the senators of Rome itself — Laurentians almost to a man — writers, politicians, intellectuals, and more especially by Anulus, the group to which the present company belongs and which, from this moment, will be called upon to help to sway men’s minds throughout the Roman world. Justinian himself is thought to be strongly in favour of bringing Italy back into the imperial fold. Not only that, but he’s said to harbour ambitions to reconstitute the whole Western Empire.’

‘But that would mean. . the expulsion of the Vandals, the Burgundians and Franks, and the Ostrogoths and Visigoths,’ said Symmachus slowly, his fine patrician features set in an expression of concern. ‘A momentous step. Could it be done? Should it, in fact, be done?’

‘The task would certainly be challenging,’ replied Cethegus. ‘But yes, I believe it could be done. Bear in mind that the barbarians are a tiny fraction — perhaps no more than a hundredth — of the Roman population of the occupied territories. Many are no longer the ferocious warriors they once were. The Vandals have grown soft through the debilitating effects of luxury and a hot climate. The Visigoths and Franks lost many of their finest fighting men in the recent wars. The imperial armies, on the other hand, are strong, well led and well equipped. In a straight fight, Roman troops will always win — thanks largely to barbarian indiscipline and lack of armour. All in all, the odds on us expelling the barbarians are in our favour, I would say. Also, by bringing much of the West’s former territory into the Ostrogothic realm, Theoderic may have done us a favour. Reconstituting the Western Empire could be made that much easier. As to your second point, Quintus, I believe it is the patriotic duty of all Romans to rid ourselves of the barbarians — who, let us not forget, are uninvited guests. Look at the tyrannical regime the Vandals have inflicted on the Romans of Africa. And the record of the Franks and the Burgundians hasn’t been much better.’

‘But under Ostrogothic rule, Italy has prospered,’ objected Cassiodorus. ‘You can’t deny it, Rufius.’

‘Theoderic, I grant you, has ruled well — largely through the guidance of you three.’ Cethegus nodded at the trio of Roman Councillors. ‘But Theoderic’s getting on; who knows how much longer his reign will last? I would remind you that on the previous occasion I was here, I warned of the dire consequences of a Gothic dynasty.’

‘Obviously Theoderic’s successors will be Goths,’ Boethius said. ‘But. . a dynasty? Can that be likely? The king has no male heirs, and at his age the chances can’t be good that he’ll produce any.’

‘Ah, but he does have an heir. His daughter Amalasuntha has been married to a Visigoth called Eutharic, for whom an impressive Amal pedigree has naturally had to be concocted. You may well look surprised; the marriage has been kept under wraps, probably because Theoderic suspects that Roman reaction would be less than ecstatic, especially should the couple have a son. But why does all this matter, I hear you ask? Well, the reason is that dynasties are hard to overthrow. Once established, the population tends to tolerate them, even when they’re brutal or incompetent, like the Severans or later Theodosians. Smooth transfer of power from one monarch to the next, you see. Lessens the risk of usurpation and civil war, which has always been the curse of Rome. Now, I have it on good authority that scheduled for next year are three events which, taken in conjunction, will reinforce Theoderic’s dynastic position immeasurably.’

‘Thus making it that much harder to unseat his successors, when the Day of Liberation comes,’ added Priscian.

‘And these events are?’ queried Cassiodorus.

‘First,’ Cethegus went on, ‘Theoderic has nominated Eutharic for a consulship. If it’s confirmed by Justin, as it almost certainly will be, the prestige accruing to the house of the Amal will be immense, helping to make Eutharic acceptable as Theoderic’s heir. Second, Senator Caecina Mavortius Basilius Decius, who — surprise, surprise — is hoping for a consulship, will, six months after Eutharic takes office, unveil an inscription at Terracina on the Via Appia. Exactly what its wording is, my agents have so far been unable to discover, but I strongly suspect that it’s something designed to lend support to item number three.’ Pausing for dramatic effect, he looked round at the others.

‘Well?’ demanded Cassiodorus, at last breaking the tension-building silence.

‘A week after Decius unveils his mystery inscription,’ Cethegus continued, ‘Theoderic intends to present himself in the Basilica of St Peter outside Rome, before Pope Hormisdas — who will then proceed to crown him emperor.’

* Provence, where they had been besieging Arelate (Arles).

† Barring its north-west corner, which was Suevic territory, the Hispanic peninsula had been added to the Visigothic realm of Aquitania, under Euric.

* In 511.

* He died on 9 July 518, aged eighty-eight.