Gibbon's The Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire
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Chapter XIX: Constantius Sole Emperor. -- Part II.
After a long delay, the reluctant Cæsar set forwards on his journey to
the Imperial court. From Antioch to Hadrianople, he traversed the wide
extent of his dominions with a numerous and stately train; and as he
labored to conceal his apprehensions from the world, and perhaps from
himself, he entertained the people of Constantinople with an exhibition
of the games of the circus. The progress of the journey might, however,
have warned him of the impending danger. In all the principal cities he
was met by ministers of confidence, commissioned to seize the offices of
government, to observe his motions, and to prevent the hasty sallies of
his despair. The persons despatched to secure the provinces which he
left behind, passed him with cold salutations, or affected disdain; and
the troops, whose station lay along the public road, were studiously
removed on his approach, lest they might be tempted to offer their
swords for the service of a civil war. After Gallus had been permitted
to repose himself a few days at Hadrianople, he received a mandate,
expressed in the most haughty and absolute style, that his splendid
retinue should halt in that city, while the Cæsar himself, with only ten
post-carriages, should hasten to the Imperial residence at Milan. In
this rapid journey, the profound respect which was due to the brother
and colleague of Constantius, was insensibly changed into rude
familiarity; and Gallus, who discovered in the countenances of the
attendants that they already considered themselves as his guards, and
might soon be employed as his executioners, began to accuse his fatal
rashness, and to recollect, with terror and remorse, the conduct by
which he had provoked his fate. The dissimulation which had hitherto
been preserved, was laid aside at Petovio, * in Pannonia. He was
conducted to a palace in the suburbs, where the general Barbatio, with a
select band of soldiers, who could neither be moved by pity, nor
corrupted by rewards, expected the arrival of his illustrious victim. In
the close of the evening he was arrested, ignominiously stripped of the
ensigns of Cæsar, and hurried away to Pola, in Istria, a sequestered
prison, which had been so recently polluted with royal blood. The horror
which he felt was soon increased by the appearance of his implacable
enemy the eunuch Eusebius, who, with the assistance of a notary and a
tribune, proceeded to interrogate him concerning the administration of
the East. The Cæsar sank under the weight of shame and guilt, confessed
all the criminal actions and all the treasonable designs with which he
was charged; and by imputing them to the advice of his wife, exasperated
the indignation of Constantius, who reviewed with partial prejudice the
minutes of the examination. The emperor was easily convinced, that his
own safety was incompatible with the life of his cousin: the sentence of
death was signed, despatched, and executed; and the nephew of
Constantine, with his hands tied behind his back, was beheaded in prison
like the vilest malefactor. Those who are inclined to palliate the
cruelties of Constantius, assert that he soon relented, and endeavored
to recall the bloody mandate; but that the second messenger, intrusted
with the reprieve, was detained by the eunuchs, who dreaded the
unforgiving temper of Gallus, and were desirous of reuniting to their
empire the wealthy provinces of the East.
Besides the reigning emperor, Julian alone survived, of all the numerous
posterity of Constantius Chlorus. The misfortune of his royal birth
involved him in the disgrace of Gallus. From his retirement in the happy
country of Ionia, he was conveyed under a strong guard to the court of
Milan; where he languished above seven months, in the continual
apprehension of suffering the same ignominious death, which was daily
inflicted almost before his eyes, on the friends and adherents of his
persecuted family. His looks, his gestures, his silence, were
scrutinized with malignant curiosity, and he was perpetually assaulted
by enemies whom he had never offended, and by arts to which he was a
stranger. But in the school of adversity, Julian insensibly acquired the
virtues of firmness and discretion. He defended his honor, as well as
his life, against the insnaring subtleties of the eunuchs, who
endeavored to extort some declaration of his sentiments; and whilst he
cautiously suppressed his grief and resentment, he nobly disdained to
flatter the tyrant, by any seeming approbation of his brother's murder.
Julian most devoutly ascribes his miraculous deliverance to the
protection of the gods, who had exempted his innocence from the sentence
of destruction pronounced by their justice against the impious house of
Constantine. As the most effectual instrument of their providence, he
gratefully acknowledges the steady and generous friendship of the
empress Eusebia, a woman of beauty and merit, who, by the ascendant
which she had gained over the mind of her husband, counterbalanced, in
some measure, the powerful conspiracy of the eunuchs. By the
intercession of his patroness, Julian was admitted into the Imperial
presence: he pleaded his cause with a decent freedom, he was heard with
favor; and, notwithstanding the efforts of his enemies, who urged the
danger of sparing an avenger of the blood of Gallus, the milder
sentiment of Eusebia prevailed in the council. But the effects of a
second interview were dreaded by the eunuchs; and Julian was advised to
withdraw for a while into the neighborhood of Milan, till the emperor
thought proper to assign the city of Athens for the place of his
honorable exile. As he had discovered, from his earliest youth, a
propensity, or rather passion, for the language, the manners, the
learning, and the religion of the Greeks, he obeyed with pleasure an
order so agreeable to his wishes. Far from the tumult of arms, and the
treachery of courts, he spent six months under the groves of the
academy, in a free intercourse with the philosophers of the age, who
studied to cultivate the genius, to encourage the vanity, and to inflame
the devotion of their royal pupil. Their labors were not unsuccessful;
and Julian inviolably preserved for Athens that tender regard which
seldom fails to arise in a liberal mind, from the recollection of the
place where it has discovered and exercised its growing powers. The
gentleness and affability of manners, which his temper suggested and his
situation imposed, insensibly engaged the affections of the strangers,
as well as citizens, with whom he conversed. Some of his fellow-students
might perhaps examine his behavior with an eye of prejudice and
aversion; but Julian established, in the schools of Athens, a general
prepossession in favor of his virtues and talents, which was soon
diffused over the Roman world.
Whilst his hours were passed in studious retirement, the empress,
resolute to achieve the generous design which she had undertaken, was
not unmindful of the care of his fortune. The death of the late Cæsar
had left Constantius invested with the sole command, and oppressed by
the accumulated weight, of a mighty empire. Before the wounds of civil
discord could be healed, the provinces of Gaul were overwhelmed by a
deluge of Barbarians. The Sarmatians no longer respected the barrier of
the Danube. The impunity of rapine had increased the boldness and
numbers of the wild Isaurians: those robbers descended from their craggy
mountains to ravage the adjacent country, and had even presumed, though
without success, to besiege the important city of Seleucia, which was
defended by a garrison of three Roman legions. Above all, the Persian
monarch, elated by victory, again threatened the peace of Asia, and the
presence of the emperor was indispensably required, both in the West and
in the East. For the first time, Constantius sincerely acknowledged,
that his single strength was unequal to such an extent of care and of
dominion. Insensible to the voice of flattery, which assured him that
his all-powerful virtue, and celestial fortune, would still continue to
triumph over every obstacle, he listened with complacency to the advice
of Eusebia, which gratified his indolence, without offending his
suspicious pride. As she perceived that the remembrance of Gallus dwelt
on the emperor's mind, she artfully turned his attention to the opposite
characters of the two brothers, which from their infancy had been
compared to those of Domitian and of Titus. She accustomed her husband
to consider Julian as a youth of a mild, unambitious disposition, whose
allegiance and gratitude might be secured by the gift of the purple, and
who was qualified to fill with honor a subordinate station, without
aspiring to dispute the commands, or to shade the glories, of his
sovereign and benefactor. After an obstinate, though secret struggle,
the opposition of the favorite eunuchs submitted to the ascendency of
the empress; and it was resolved that Julian, after celebrating his
nuptials with Helena, sister of Constantius, should be appointed, with
the title of Cæsar, to reign over the countries beyond the Alps.
Although the order which recalled him to court was probably accompanied
by some intimation of his approaching greatness, he appeals to the
people of Athens to witness his tears of undissembled sorrow, when he
was reluctantly torn away from his beloved retirement. He trembled for
his life, for his fame, and even for his virtue; and his sole confidence
was derived from the persuasion, that Minerva inspired all his actions,
and that he was protected by an invisible guard of angels, whom for that
purpose she had borrowed from the Sun and Moon. He approached, with
horror, the palace of Milan; nor could the ingenuous youth conceal his
indignation, when he found himself accosted with false and servile
respect by the assassins of his family. Eusebia, rejoicing in the
success of her benevolent schemes, embraced him with the tenderness of a
sister; and endeavored, by the most soothing caresses, to dispel his
terrors, and reconcile him to his fortune. But the ceremony of shaving
his beard, and his awkward demeanor, when he first exchanged the cloak
of a Greek philosopher for the military habit of a Roman prince, amused,
during a few days, the levity of the Imperial court.
The emperors of the age of Constantine no longer deigned to consult with
the senate in the choice of a colleague; but they were anxious that
their nomination should be ratified by the consent of the army. On this
solemn occasion, the guards, with the other troops whose stations were
in the neighborhood of Milan, appeared under arms; and Constantius
ascended his lofty tribunal, holding by the hand his cousin Julian, who
entered the same day into the twenty-fifth year of his age. In a studied
speech, conceived and delivered with dignity, the emperor represented
the various dangers which threatened the prosperity of the republic, the
necessity of naming a Cæsar for the administration of the West, and his
own intention, if it was agreeable to their wishes, of rewarding with
the honors of the purple the promising virtues of the nephew of
Constantine. The approbation of the soldiers was testified by a
respectful murmur; they gazed on the manly countenance of Julian, and
observed with pleasure, that the fire which sparkled in his eyes was
tempered by a modest blush, on being thus exposed, for the first time,
to the public view of mankind. As soon as the ceremony of his
investiture had been performed, Constantius addressed him with the tone
of authority which his superior age and station permitted him to assume;
and exhorting the new Cæsar to deserve, by heroic deeds, that sacred and
immortal name, the emperor gave his colleague the strongest assurances
of a friendship which should never be impaired by time, nor interrupted
by their separation into the most distant climes. As soon as the speech
was ended, the troops, as a token of applause, clashed their shields
against their knees; while the officers who surrounded the tribunal
expressed, with decent reserve, their sense of the merits of the
representative of Constantius.
The two princes returned to the palace in the same chariot; and during
the slow procession, Julian repeated to himself a verse of his favorite
Homer, which he might equally apply to his fortune and to his fears. The
four-and-twenty days which the Cæsar spent at Milan after his
investiture, and the first months of his Gallic reign, were devoted to a
splendid but severe captivity; nor could the acquisition of honor
compensate for the loss of freedom. His steps were watched, his
correspondence was intercepted; and he was obliged, by prudence, to
decline the visits of his most intimate friends. Of his former
domestics, four only were permitted to attend him; two pages, his
physician, and his librarian; the last of whom was employed in the care
of a valuable collection of books, the gift of the empress, who studied
the inclinations as well as the interest of her friend. In the room of
these faithful servants, a household was formed, such indeed as became
the dignity of a Cæsar; but it was filled with a crowd of slaves,
destitute, and perhaps incapable, of any attachment for their new
master, to whom, for the most part, they were either unknown or
suspected. His want of experience might require the assistance of a wise
council; but the minute instructions which regulated the service of his
table, and the distribution of his hours, were adapted to a youth still
under the discipline of his preceptors, rather than to the situation of
a prince intrusted with the conduct of an important war. If he aspired
to deserve the esteem of his subjects, he was checked by the fear of
displeasing his sovereign; and even the fruits of his marriage-bed were
blasted by the jealous artifices of Eusebia herself, who, on this
occasion alone, seems to have been unmindful of the tenderness of her
sex, and the generosity of her character. The memory of his father and
of his brothers reminded Julian of his own danger, and his apprehensions
were increased by the recent and unworthy fate of Sylvanus. In the
summer which preceded his own elevation, that general had been chosen to
deliver Gaul from the tyranny of the Barbarians; but Sylvanus soon
discovered that he had left his most dangerous enemies in the Imperial
court. A dexterous informer, countenanced by several of the principal
ministers, procured from him some recommendatory letters; and erasing
the whole of the contents, except the signature, filled up the vacant
parchment with matters of high and treasonable import. By the industry
and courage of his friends, the fraud was however detected, and in a
great council of the civil and military officers, held in the presence
of the emperor himself, the innocence of Sylvanus was publicly
acknowledged. But the discovery came too late; the report of the
calumny, and the hasty seizure of his estate, had already provoked the
indignant chief to the rebellion of which he was so unjustly accused. He
assumed the purple at his head-quarters of Cologne, and his active
powers appeared to menace Italy with an invasion, and Milan with a
siege. In this emergency, Ursicinus, a general of equal rank, regained,
by an act of treachery, the favor which he had lost by his eminent
services in the East. Exasperated, as he might speciously allege, by the
injuries of a similar nature, he hastened with a few followers to join
the standard, and to betray the confidence, of his too credulous friend.
After a reign of only twenty-eight days, Sylvanus was assassinated: the
soldiers who, without any criminal intention, had blindly followed the
example of their leader, immediately returned to their allegiance; and
the flatterers of Constantius celebrated the wisdom and felicity of the
monarch who had extinguished a civil war without the hazard of a battle.
The protection of the Rhætian frontier, and the persecution of the
Catholic church, detained Constantius in Italy above eighteen months
after the departure of Julian. Before the emperor returned into the
East, he indulged his pride and curiosity in a visit to the ancient
capital. He proceeded from Milan to Rome along the Æmilian and Flaminian
ways, and as soon as he approached within forty miles of the city, the
march of a prince who had never vanquished a foreign enemy, assumed the
appearance of a triumphal procession. His splendid train was composed of
all the ministers of luxury; but in a time of profound peace, he was
encompassed by the glittering arms of the numerous squadrons of his
guards and cuirassiers. Their streaming banners of silk, embossed with
gold, and shaped in the form of dragons, waved round the person of the
emperor. Constantius sat alone in a lofty car, resplendent with gold and
precious gems; and, except when he bowed his head to pass under the
gates of the cities, he affected a stately demeanor of inflexible, and,
as it might seem, of insensible gravity. The severe discipline of the
Persian youth had been introduced by the eunuchs into the Imperial
palace; and such were the habits of patience which they had inculcated,
that during a slow and sultry march, he was never seen to move his hand
towards his face, or to turn his eyes either to the right or to the
left. He was received by the magistrates and senate of Rome; and the
emperor surveyed, with attention, the civil honors of the republic, and
the consular images of the noble families. The streets were lined with
an innumerable multitude. Their repeated acclamations expressed their
joy at beholding, after an absence of thirty-two years, the sacred
person of their sovereign, and Constantius himself expressed, with some
pleasantry, he affected surprise that the human race should thus
suddenly be collected on the same spot. The son of Constantine was
lodged in the ancient palace of Augustus: he presided in the senate,
harangued the people from the tribunal which Cicero had so often
ascended, assisted with unusual courtesy at the games of the Circus, and
accepted the crowns of gold, as well as the Panegyrics which had been
prepared for the ceremony by the deputies of the principal cities. His
short visit of thirty days was employed in viewing the monuments of art
and power which were scattered over the seven hills and the interjacent
valleys. He admired the awful majesty of the Capitol, the vast extent of
the baths of Caracalla and Diocletian, the severe simplicity of the
Pantheon, the massy greatness of the amphitheatre of Titus, the elegant
architecture of the theatre of Pompey and the Temple of Peace, and,
above all, the stately structure of the Forum and column of Trajan;
acknowledging that the voice of fame, so prone to invent and to magnify,
had made an inadequate report of the metropolis of the world. The
traveller, who has contemplated the ruins of ancient Rome, may conceive
some imperfect idea of the sentiments which they must have inspired when
they reared their heads in the splendor of unsullied beauty.
[See The Pantheon: The severe simplicity of the Pantheon]
The satisfaction which Constantius had received from this journey
excited him to the generous emulation of bestowing on the Romans some
memorial of his own gratitude and munificence. His first idea was to
imitate the equestrian and colossal statue which he had seen in the
Forum of Trajan; but when he had maturely weighed the difficulties of
the execution, he chose rather to embellish the capital by the gift of
an Egyptian obelisk. In a remote but polished age, which seems to have
preceded the invention of alphabetical writing, a great number of these
obelisks had been erected, in the cities of Thebes and Heliopolis, by
the ancient sovereigns of Egypt, in a just confidence that the
simplicity of their form, and the hardness of their substance, would
resist the injuries of time and violence. Several of these extraordinary
columns had been transported to Rome by Augustus and his successors, as
the most durable monuments of their power and victory; but there
remained one obelisk, which, from its size or sanctity, escaped for a
long time the rapacious vanity of the conquerors. It was designed by
Constantine to adorn his new city; and, after being removed by his order
from the pedestal where it stood before the Temple of the Sun at
Heliopolis, was floated down the Nile to Alexandria. The death of
Constantine suspended the execution of his purpose, and this obelisk was
destined by his son to the ancient capital of the empire. A vessel of
uncommon strength and capaciousness was provided to convey this enormous
weight of granite, at least a hundred and fifteen feet in length, from
the banks of the Nile to those of the Tyber. The obelisk of Constantius
was landed about three miles from the city, and elevated, by the efforts
of art and labor, in the great Circus of Rome.
The departure of Constantius from Rome was hastened by the alarming
intelligence of the distress and danger of the Illyrian provinces. The
distractions of civil war, and the irreparable loss which the Roman
legions had sustained in the battle of Mursa, exposed those countries,
almost without defence, to the light cavalry of the Barbarians; and
particularly to the inroads of the Quadi, a fierce and powerful nation,
who seem to have exchanged the institutions of Germany for the arms and
military arts of their Sarmatian allies. The garrisons of the frontiers
were insufficient to check their progress; and the indolent monarch was
at length compelled to assemble, from the extremities of his dominions,
the flower of the Palatine troops, to take the field in person, and to
employ a whole campaign, with the preceding autumn and the ensuing
spring, in the serious prosecution of the war. The emperor passed the
Danube on a bridge of boats, cut in pieces all that encountered his
march, penetrated into the heart of the country of the Quadi, and
severely retaliated the calamities which they had inflicted on the Roman
province. The dismayed Barbarians were soon reduced to sue for peace:
they offered the restitution of his captive subjects as an atonement for
the past, and the noblest hostages as a pledge of their future conduct.
The generous courtesy which was shown to the first among their
chieftains who implored the clemency of Constantius, encouraged the more
timid, or the more obstinate, to imitate their example; and the Imperial
camp was crowded with the princes and ambassadors of the most distant
tribes, who occupied the plains of the Lesser Poland, and who might have
deemed themselves secure behind the lofty ridge of the Carpathian
Mountains. While Constantius gave laws to the Barbarians beyond the
Danube, he distinguished, with specious compassion, the Sarmatian
exiles, who had been expelled from their native country by the rebellion
of their slaves, and who formed a very considerable accession to the
power of the Quadi. The emperor, embracing a generous but artful system
of policy, released the Sarmatians from the bands of this humiliating
dependence, and restored them, by a separate treaty, to the dignity of a
nation united under the government of a king, the friend and ally of the
republic. He declared his resolution of asserting the justice of their
cause, and of securing the peace of the provinces by the extirpation, or
at least the banishment, of the Limigantes, whose manners were still
infected with the vices of their servile origin. The execution of this
design was attended with more difficulty than glory. The territory of
the Limigantes was protected against the Romans by the Danube, against
the hostile Barbarians by the Teyss. The marshy lands which lay between
those rivers, and were often covered by their inundations, formed an
intricate wilderness, pervious only to the inhabitants, who were
acquainted with its secret paths and inaccessible fortresses. On the
approach of Constantius, the Limigantes tried the efficacy of prayers,
of fraud, and of arms; but he sternly rejected their supplications,
defeated their rude stratagems, and repelled with skill and firmness the
efforts of their irregular valor. One of their most warlike tribes,
established in a small island towards the conflux of the Teyss and the
Danube, consented to pass the river with the intention of surprising the
emperor during the security of an amicable conference. They soon became
the victims of the perfidy which they meditated. Encompassed on every
side, trampled down by the cavalry, slaughtered by the swords of the
legions, they disdained to ask for mercy; and with an undaunted
countenance, still grasped their weapons in the agonies of death. After
this victory, a considerable body of Romans was landed on the opposite
banks of the Danube; the Taifalæ, a Gothic tribe engaged in the service
of the empire, invaded the Limigantes on the side of the Teyss; and
their former masters, the free Sarmatians, animated by hope and revenge,
penetrated through the hilly country, into the heart of their ancient
possessions. A general conflagration revealed the huts of the
Barbarians, which were seated in the depth of the wilderness; and the
soldier fought with confidence on marshy ground, which it was dangerous
for him to tread. In this extremity, the bravest of the Limigantes were
resolved to die in arms, rather than to yield: but the milder sentiment,
enforced by the authority of their elders, at length prevailed; and the
suppliant crowd, followed by their wives and children, repaired to the
Imperial camp, to learn their fate from the mouth of the conqueror.
After celebrating his own clemency, which was still inclined to pardon
their repeated crimes, and to spare the remnant of a guilty nation,
Constantius assigned for the place of their exile a remote country,
where they might enjoy a safe and honorable repose. The Limigantes
obeyed with reluctance; but before they could reach, at least before
they could occupy, their destined habitations, they returned to the
banks of the Danube, exaggerating the hardships of their situation, and
requesting, with fervent professions of fidelity, that the emperor would
grant them an undisturbed settlement within the limits of the Roman
provinces. Instead of consulting his own experience of their incurable
perfidy, Constantius listened to his flatterers, who were ready to
represent the honor and advantage of accepting a colony of soldiers, at
a time when it was much easier to obtain the pecuniary contributions
than the military service of the subjects of the empire. The Limigantes
were permitted to pass the Danube; and the emperor gave audience to the
multitude in a large plain near the modern city of Buda. They surrounded
the tribunal, and seemed to hear with respect an oration full of
mildness and dignity when one of the Barbarians, casting his shoe into
the air, exclaimed with a loud voice, Marha! Marha! * a word of
defiance, which was received as a signal of the tumult. They rushed with
fury to seize the person of the emperor; his royal throne and golden
couch were pillaged by these rude hands; but the faithful defence of his
guards, who died at his feet, allowed him a moment to mount a fleet
horse, and to escape from the confusion. The disgrace which had been
incurred by a treacherous surprise was soon retrieved by the numbers and
discipline of the Romans; and the combat was only terminated by the
extinction of the name and nation of the Limigantes. The free Sarmatians
were reinstated in the possession of their ancient seats; and although
Constantius distrusted the levity of their character, he entertained
some hopes that a sense of gratitude might influence their future
conduct. He had remarked the lofty stature and obsequious demeanor of
Zizais, one of the noblest of their chiefs. He conferred on him the
title of King; and Zizais proved that he was not unworthy to reign, by a
sincere and lasting attachment to the interests of his benefactor, who,
after this splendid success, received the name of Sarmaticus from the
acclamations of his victorious army.
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