King Wittich was greatly disheartened by this battle and by the messages that now reached him from some of his spies in the city. For my mistress had caught a ring of them just before she left, and Theodosius, who took over this work in her absence, forced them by threats of torture to send out letters containing misleading news. According to these letters, the vanguard of an enormous army – at least 60,000 men – was advancing from Naples. Wittich’s own forces had been reduced by battle and sickness to 50,000 men; two large convoys of grain that he needed urgently had been captured by the Tivoli garrison; desertions became frequent. He decided to sue for peace.
Accordingly, he sent three envoys to Rome. Belisarius admitted them as before, blindfolded, and had them speak their messages in the Senate House before him. Their spokesman, a Roman friendly to the Goths, stated King Wittich’s case ably and at some length. The whole question at issue, he said, was whether the Goths had a right in Italy or not. If they had a right, as he could prove, then Justinian was acting unjustly in sending an army against them, not having himself been injured by them in any way. The facts were as follows. Theoderich, their former king, who had patrician rank at Constantinople, had been commissioned by the then Emperor of the East to invade Italy and seize the government from the hands of certain barbarian generals who had deposed his colleague, the Emperor of the West. This commission Theoderich had successfully undertaken; and in all the long years of his reign had preserved the Italian Constitution in its entirety. He had made no new laws nor repealed any old ones, leaving the civil government entirely in the hands of Italians, and acting merely as commander-in-chief of the forces which protected the country against Franks, Gepids, Burgundians, and similar barbarians. Moreover, though Arians, Theoderich and his successors had behaved with noble tolerance towards the Orthodox Christians and shown veneration for their shrines; and it would therefore be ridiculous to pretend that the present inexcusable invasion was a war of religious liberation.
Belisarius replied: ‘Theoderich was sent to Italy to win back the country for the Emperor of the East, surely, not to seize it for himself? It would have been no advantage to the then Emperor that Italy should be governed by this barbarian usurper as opposed to that.’
The envoy said: ‘Let that pass. Sensible men do not argue about dim historical incidents. But I have come to tell you this: that if you consent to withdraw your army from Italy, my royal master will freely cede to your Emperor the whole fruitful island of three-cornered Sicily.’
Belisarius laughed and replied scornfully: ‘Fair is fair. And we will freely cede to you the whole fruitful island of three-cornered Britain, which is much larger than Sicily and used to be a source of great riches to us – before we lost it.’
‘Suppose that my Master agrees to let you keep Naples and the whole of Campania?’
‘My orders are to reconquer Italy for its rightful owner, and I propose to carry them out. I am not empowered to make any arrangements that would prejudice the Emperor’s claim to the entire peninsula and all its dependencies.’
‘Will you agree to a three months’ armistice while King Wittich sends proposals for peace to Constantinople?’
‘I shall never stand in the way of an enemy who genuinely desires to make peace with his Serene Highness, my Master.’
An armistice was agreed upon, therefore, and an exchange of hostages. But before it was ratified Belisarius heard of our arrival at Ostia by land and sea. He could not restrain himself, but rode out one night at dusk with a hundred men to welcome his Antonina. He passed safely through the Gothic lines and dined with us that night in our entrenched and barricaded camp. He promised that as we came up the road the next day with our wagons, he would, if necessary, sally out to our assistance. At midnight he rode back again, eluding the enemy outposts as before.
In our pleasure at seeing him and hearing his account of the fight outside the Flaminian Gate, we had omitted to tell him of our transport difficulties. I was present with my mistress at a council of war the next morning when these difficulties were discussed. The Ostia road was a neglected, muddy track, and the wagon oxen were so worn out by their long forced march from Calabria that they were still lying half-dead where they had halted the night before, unable even to eat the cut grass that their drivers had spread before them. Neither whip nor goad would persuade them to haul wagons that day.
It was my mistress Antonina who made the suggestion that we should load the corn on our smaller rowing-galleys, board them in against enemy arrow or javelin attack, and fit them with very wide sails. The wind was steady from the West and, with the help of oars at the bends of the river, it should not be impossible to make progress against the current as far as the city. The cavalry could follow along the bank and occasionally haul on ropes where sail and oars both failed to carry a boat upstream.
The plan was successful: after an all-day voyage the boats reached Rome safely at dusk. The Goths had offered no hindrance, not wishing to prejudice the signing of the armistice. The wind remained steady, and the boats returned to Ostia on the next day for a further cargo. Within a few days the whole of the stores had been conveyed into Rome, the famine was at an end, the fleet had returned to winter at Naples, and the armistice, which bound both sides to refrain from ‘all acts or threats of force whatsoever’, was signed and sealed. Wittich’s ambassadors then set out for Constantinople; but Belisarius sent a letter to Justinian urging him to pay no attention to their proposed terms unless these amounted to a capitulation.
Hildiger, my mistress’s son-in-law, arrived from Carthage on New Year’s Day with what was left of the Herulians and Thracian Goths – 600 vigorous, shame-faced men. Belisarius welcomed them without any taunting reference to their part in the mutiny. On the same day the Gothic garrison abandoned the Port of Rome, Wittich being unable to keep this place provisioned; the Isaurian force which we had posted at Ostia occupied it. The Tuscan city of Civita Vecchia was abandoned by its garrison for the same reason, and likewise occupied by us. Wittich protested that this was a violation of the armistice, but Belisarius ignored the protest; for neither arms nor threats had been used on his side. He now sent a large cavalry column under the command of Bloody John to winter near the Fucine Lake, about seventy miles eastward from Rome; John was to remain there quietly until further orders, exercising the troops in archery and rapid manoeuvre. If the Goths broke the armistice he would be in a position to do them a great deal of harm.
Wittich, whose army continued to occupy its original camps, treacherously made three attempts at capturing the city by surprise. The first method he tried was the one by which Belisarius had captured Naples: entry by an aqueduct. A party of Goths stole along the dry conduit of the Virgin Water until they came to the masonry block far inside the city, near the Baths of Agrippa, and began to chip it away. But this aqueduct passes over the Pincian Hill at ground level, and a sentry on duty at the Palace happened to see the light of their torches shining through two holes in the brick-work. Trajan, going the rounds of the sentries, asked him: ‘Have you anything unusual to report?’ The sentry replied: ‘Yes, sir, I saw a wolf’s eyes flashing red in the dark yonder.’
Trajan could not understand how a wolf could have entered Rome through the closely guarded gates. It occurred to him, too, that a wolf’s eyes only appear to flash red in the dark when a light catches them, whereas the sentry was standing in a particularly dark spot. But the man was positive that he had seen a something flashing from beside the aqueduct, and what could it be but a wolf’s eyes? Trajan happened to mention this trivial incident when he breakfasted with us at headquarters the next morning. My mistress Antonina, who was present, said to Belisarius: ‘If it had been a wolf, the wolf-hounds would have given tongue from the kennels. They can scent a wolf from a mile away. Trajan, see that the mystery is cleared up!’ Trajan made the sentry point out exactly where the wolf had been seen. There he discovered the two holes, where a long staple had once been hammered into the brickwork. A breach was at once
made in the aqueduct and the droppings of Gothic torches were found, with signs of demolition work at the masonry block. The breach was sealed up again, but when the Goths came next night to resume work they were confronted by a placard reading: ‘Road closed. By Order of Belisarius.’ They hurried back, fearing an ambush.
Wittich’s next attempt was a surprise cavalry raid against the Pincian Gate one day at noon. His men had scaling-ladders with them, and also numerous flasks containing a combustible mixture for use against the gate, which was made of wood. However, our look-out on the tower signalled an unusual activity in the enemy’s camp. Hildiger, who was on his way to luncheon with us at the Palace, happened to see the signal. He immediately alarmed a squadron of the Household Regiment, rode out with them against the Goths, and stifled the assault before it was well launched.
Wittich’s third and last attempt was against the part of the walls which is washed by the Tiber and has no protecting towers – the very spot where Constantine had repelled an attack during the fight at the mausoleum. It was to be a night attack in force. Wittich had bribed two Roman sacristans from the Cathedral of St Peter to prepare the way for him. They were to cultivate the friendship of the guards on this lonely stretch of wall; then, on the appointed night, visit them with a skin of wine, make them drunk, and doctor their wine-cups with an opiate which he provided. When the sacristans signalled with a torch that the coast was clear, the Goths would cross the river in skiffs, plant their ladders on the mud-flat and seize the city. It was a plan that might well have succeeded, had not one of the sacristans betrayed the other, who confessed as soon as the phial of opiate was discovered in his house. Belisarius punished the traitor in the traditional way, by cutting off his nose and ears and mounting him backwards on an ass. But instead of being exposed to the insults of the mob in the streets – the usual sequel – he was sent along the road into Wittich’s camp.
After these flagrant breaches of the armistice had been committed, Belisarius wrote to Bloody John: ‘Overrun the Gothic lands in Picenum; carry off all the valuables that you find; capture the Gothic women and children, but do no violence to them. This booty is to be shared among the whole army; keep it intact. On no account forfeit the goodwill of the native Italians. Seize what fortresses you can, and either garrison them or dismantle their fortifications, but leave none still held by the enemy behind you as you advance.’
Bloody John found his task an easy one, since almost every Goth capable of bearing arms was away at the siege of Rome, and there were only small garrisons left in the fortified towns. His booty was enormous. Not content with raiding Picenum, he pushed up the eastern coast for 200 miles. He thereby disregarded Belisarius’s orders; for he left in his rear the fortified towns of Urbino and Osimo. But a subordinate has a right to disobey orders if he thoroughly understands them and becomes aware of circumstances that make them out of date; and here was a case in point. For when the Gothic garrison of Rimini heard of John’s approach they had fled to Ravenna, which is only a day’s march away, and the City Fathers of Rimini had invited John to enter. Bloody John judged that as soon as Wittich heard that the Romans held Rimini he would raise the siege of Rome and march back, for fear of losing Ravenna too; and he was correct in this forecast. Also, Wittich’s wife Matasontha, who was at Ravenna and had never ceased to resent the marriage to which she had been forced, had opened a secret correspondence with Bloody John, offering him every assistance that would contribute to her husband’s defeat and death. So he did right in pushing on to Rimini. Once Wittich acknowledged failure by a retreat from Rome, the end of his reign was near.
Now, Constantine was angry that Bloody John had been preferred to him in the command of this raiding expedition. Constantine had fought bravely and energetically enough throughout the siege, but nourished an ever-growing jealousy of Belisarius, whose victories he ascribed entirely to luck. Three years before, it will be recalled, he had been one of the signatories to the secret letter in which Belisarius was absurdly accused to Justinian of aiming at the sovereignty of North Africa. Belisarius had never told Constantine that the letter had been intercepted, but my mistress Antonina had recently hinted that she knew that a copy of it had reached the Emperor. Constantine was persuaded that, in revenge for the letter, Belisarius had, ever since the landing in Sicily, given him the most difficult, most inglorious, and most unprofitable tasks to perform. He therefore wrote to Justinian again, accusing Belisarius of having forged the evidence by means of which the Pope had been deposed, and – more absurd still – of having taken bribes from King Wittich to sign an armistice on better terms than the Goths had any right to expect.
He applied for leave to go hunting near the Port of Rome – not to return to his post at the Aelian Gate until the following morning. At the Port of Rome he gave the letter to the commander of a packet-ship that was to sail for Constantinople that day, telling him that it was a private letter for the Emperor from Belisarius. But the next day as soon as he returned he was handed a subpoena to attend Belisarius’s military court at the Pincian Palace. Constantine naturally concluded that some spy had followed him and that the letter was now in Belisarius’s hands; but he swaggered off defiantly to the Palace, ready to justify his action, if necessary. For he had a secret commission, signed by Justinian himself, to report at once upon any action on Belisarius’s part that showed the least taint of disloyalty. This commission had been sent to him at Carthage two years previously, in answer to his original report. It was still valid.
As it happened, the case which he had been summoned to attend merely concerned two daggers with amethyst-mounted hilts and a golden double-scabbard belonging to an Italian resident of Ravenna named Praesidius. Praesidius, who had fled to Rome at the outbreak of hostilities, prized these daggers as heirlooms, but had been robbed of them by one of Constantine’s personal attendants; Constantine himself now wore them openly. During the siege Praesidius had made several appeals for their return, but was given only insults in reply. He had not brought a civil charge against Constantine, hardly expecting that in such times a mere civilian refugee would be given any satisfaction against a distinguished cavalry commander. But when the armistice was signed Praesidius at last made an application at the Palace for permission to swear a warrant against Constantine for theft. Theodosius, who as Belisarius’s legal secretary was charged to settle as many cases as possible out of court, dissuaded him from proceeding. Constantine was nevertheless sent a note by Theodosius in Belisarius’s name, asking him to restore the daggers – if they were indeed stolen property. Constantine disregarded this note, confident that the charge would not be pressed. In reply to a second note, signed by my mistress and written in a more peremptory style, he wrote a smooth denial of all knowledge of the matter. Praesidius, upon being shown this letter by Theodosius, grew very angry. It was St Anthony’s Day (the same day that Constantine went hunting at the Port of Rome) and he waited in the Market Place until Belisarius came riding through on the way to attend divine service in St Anthony’s Church. Then, darting forward from among the crowd, Praesidius caught hold of Balan’s bridle and called out in a loud voice: ‘Do the laws of his Sacred Majesty Justinian permit an Italian refugee to be robbed of his family heirlooms by Greek soldiers?’
Belisarius’s attendants threatened Praesidius and told him to be off; but he shouted and screamed, and would not release his hold on the bridle until Belisarius had undertaken to inquire personally into the matter on the very next day. Constantine, knowing nothing of all this, arrived at the Palace wearing in his belt the very daggers that were in dispute and of which he had disclaimed knowledge.
The charge was read out. Belisarius first examined the documents in the case, including Constantine’s letter of denial. Then he heard Praesidius’s own evidence, and then the evidence of his friends. It appeared that the daggers had been forcibly taken from Praesidius’s person by Constantine’s servant Maxentiolus; that Constantine then wore them himself and persistently refused to return them,
alleging that he had bought them from Maxentiolus, who had found them on a Gothic corpse.
‘Is it true that you made this statement, noble Constantine?’
‘Yes, my lord Belisarius, and I hold to it. This impudent fellow Praesidius is quite mistaken in thinking them his.’
‘Praesidius, do you see anyone in this court now wearing your daggers?’
Praesidius replied: ‘Those are they, Illustrious Belisarius, that the general is as usual wearing.’
‘Can you prove that they are yours?’
‘I can. My father’s name, Marcus Praesidius, is damascened in gold on the blade of each.’
‘Noble Constantine, do any such names appear on the daggers you are wearing?’ Belisarius asked.
Constantine flew into a rage. ‘What if they do? The daggers are mine by purchase. I would rather throw them into the Tiber than give them to a man who has publicly insulted me as a thief.’
‘I desire you to hand me the daggers for examination, my Lord.’
‘I refuse.’
Belisarius clapped his hands. In marched ten troopers of the bodyguard, lining up beside the door. Out of respect for Constantine’s rank nobody had hitherto been admitted to the court-room (besides the two witnesses) but Hildiger, Bessas, and three other generals of equal rank with him.