The Historians of Late Antiquity

by David Rohrbacher

  After the trials, Julian purged the court of staff and attendants. Ammianus uses this purge as an opportunity for a digression on the corruptions of the palace staff, and the thirst for luxury and hatred for discipline that had accompanied the growth in personnel (cf. Libanius or. 18.130–41). Despite the corruption, Ammianus still criticizes the emperor’s actions, and complains that he ought to have kept a few attendants, “at least those known for good character and integrity” (22.4.2). Ammianus’ judgement reflects the general favor he felt toward the proper display of imperial dignity, which Julian sometimes lacked (Matthews 1989: 231–8).

  Ammianus is also critical of Julian’s occasional lack of decorum in his public behavior. At the inauguration of the new consuls for the year 362, Julian attended on foot, which “some criticized as affected and tasteless” (22.7.1). Julian frequently sat in the senate house at Constantinople to hear cases, but once, when he heard that his old teacher, the philosopher Maximus of Ephesus, had arrived, he leapt up and escorted him in with a kiss. Ammianus saw this “improper display” as evidence that Julian was “excessively seeking after empty glory” (22.7.3). Ammianus disliked and distrusted Maximus, one of the theurgists whom he portrays as responsible for encouraging Julian to ignore the omens and embark on the Persian campaign.

  Ammianus consistently describes Julian as a tax cutter. He inspired “joyful dancing” in Gaul when he lowered tax rates from twenty-five to seven gold pieces per person (16.5). He clashed with Constantius’ men in Gaul not only over military policy but also over fiscal policy, most notably when he refused the plan of Florentius to impose an additional tax on the Gauls, who were already suffering under barbarian invasion (17.3). When Julian was given a province of his own to administer, he forbade officials to pressure the inhabitants to pay, with the unlikely result, according to Ammianus, that taxes were paid in full and in advance (17.3). In general, Julian’s support of lower taxation is seen as a personal virtue, the result of his lack of greediness (25.4.15; Matthews 1989: 239–41).

  Ammianus is guardedly critical of some of Julian’s actions in his home town of Antioch. He feels that the emperor imposed price regulations during a food shortage simply to court popularity (22.14.1). These regulations were promulgated in the face of opposition from the powerful members of the council of Antioch. Ammianus does not support local authority, however, when it comes to granting additional power to councils to ensure that the wealthy and powerful serve. He objects vehemently no less than three times to Julian’s policy that removed exemptions from service from those who had special privileges, or had served in the army, or were not residents of the town in question (21.12.23, 22.9.12, 25.4.21). The frequent repetition suggests that Ammianus or those close to him were negatively affected by the policy.

  Little from Eunapius survives on Julian’s policies beyond nonspecific panegyric. An excerpt from the Suda, which may be Eunapian in origin, praises Julian as a good judge whom criminals feared (fr. 25.1). It contains the interesting detail that Julian was a particularly effective judge because his pleasant nature and his habit of appearing frequently in public allowed citizens free access to speak to him regularly. Zosimus’ account is confused and may not provide reliable insight into Eunapius’ work, but certain features are suggestive (3.11.3). Zosimus credits Julian with the building of a harbor, a colonnade, and a library, to which he donated his own books. His claim that Julian showed great favor to Constantinople by allowing many new people to serve on the curia may indicate another point of difference between Eunapius and Ammianus. The positive tone given to the description of this policy contrasts with Ammianus’ repeated denunciation of Julian’s removal of exemptions from potential members of the curia. Eunapius’ perspective is decidedly more local and urban than that of the imperial and cosmopolitan Ammianus.

  Eutropius is very favorable toward Julian, whom he deems “an outstanding man who would have governed the state nobly if the fates had allowed” (10.16.2). Eutropius cites his erudition in both Greek and Latin. Julian’s fiscal responsibility and tax reductions receive particular praise. Eutropius also describes him as generous toward his friends, but less discriminating than an emperor ought to be, for some friends damaged his reputation. This cryptic notice may remind the reader of the scene recorded by Ammianus of Julian’s embrace of Maximus, who was blamed by Ammianus for the failure of Julian’s Persian invasion. Alternatively, Eutropius may have in mind subordinates like the emperor’s uncle Julian, whom Sozomen and Theodoret blamed for violence toward Christians.

  While Rufinus is uninterested in Julian as a secular leader, Socrates presents several evaluations of his policies outside the religious sphere (3.1.48–60). As part of Julian’s courting of favor early in his reign, Socrates says, he had Eusebius, the chief eunuch, executed, and property that had been stolen by eunuchs was returned to the people. This event is separated from any account of the trials at Chalcedon, where it belongs, but instead is linked to Julian’s dismissal of eunuchs, cooks, and barbers from the palace. Socrates comments, as had Ammianus, that many criticized these dismissals as insufficiently respectful of the need for imperial pomp and dignity. The historian further remarks upon Julian’s archaic manner of governing, claiming that the emperor remained up all night writing speeches which he personally delivered in the senate, the first ruler since Julius Caesar to behave in this fashion. Socrates also mentions Julian’s reformation of the imperial courier service, which Ammianus had criticized as overburdened by church personnel shuttling between synods (21.16.18). In general Socrates finds this behavior affected and pretentious. He recapitulates the complaint of Ammianus and Eutropius that the emperor too often consorted with unworthy companions. For Socrates these are the professional philosophers, “many of whom were more to be identified by their worn out cloaks than by their learnedness,” who replaced the functionaries who were dismissed by Julian (3.1.56). Throughout this passage Socrates presents a running commentary on the relationship between philosophy and Julian’s behavior, arguing both that Julian’s behavior was not truly philosophical and that true philosophy and imperial rule cannot coexist. Rather than praising the emperor for reducing taxes, as other historians had done, Socrates several times criticizes him both for special levies directed against the church and for turning a blind eye toward overzealous tax collection when the subjects of the taxman were Christian (3.13.8–10, 3.14.7–8). Socrates is also critical of Julian’s price edict in Antioch, the flaws of which he explains in fairly sophisticated terms (3.17.1–3).

  Sozomen, in sharp contrast with Socrates, has completely removed any reference to Julian’s secular policies and accomplishments and focuses entirely on his religious policies and beliefs. One must speculate that Sozomen thought that the inclusion of such material in an ecclesiastical history was either inappropriate to the genre or was too favorable toward the Apostate. Theodoret too avoids any mention of Julian’s non-religious policies, although it is less surprising in his decidedly non-secular history.

  Persian invasion and death

  Julian planned an invasion of Persia from early in his reign (Blockley 1992: 24–30; Matthews 1989: 130–83; Marcone 1979; Bowersock 1978: 106–19; Ridley 1973). His military successes in Gaul and his victory over Constantius left him and his contemporaries with a high estimation of his skill and good fortune. The ultimate goals of an invasion of Persia have been debated (Seager 1997; Blockley 1992; Lane Fox 1997). At the very least, Julian hoped to demonstrate his superiority to Constantius, strengthen his position at home, and retaliate against the Persians for their recent successes. Julian may have had more expansive goals, including the overthrow of the Persian emperor Shapur or even the annexation of the entire Persian empire.

  Historians report opposition, both human and divine, to the expedition. In March 363 Julian crossed the Euphrates with his army and then marched south, sending a portion of the army east as a diversion. In early April the army moved through Persian territory, receiving the surrender of several fortified tow
ns. Julian and his army then approached Ctesiphon and halted on the west bank of the Tigris. Because the reinforcements had not yet arrived and the army of Shapur was near, Julian abandoned the idea of besieging Ctesiphon. As his army began to retreat, he ordered the entire fleet of ships to be destroyed by fire. Ancient historians as well as modern scholars have provided various explanations for this action.

  The Roman army retreated by land, pursued by Shapur, pressed by guerrilla warfare, and threatened by hunger due to the scorched-earth tactics of the Persians. On 26 June in a minor skirmish Julian was fatally struck by a spear. Some attributed the blow to a Persian, but others blamed a disgruntled Roman or Christians in the Roman ranks. Julian is said to have ended his life in emulation of Socrates, calmly discussing philosophy with friends as he died. The army quickly named as emperor Jovian, who salvaged the situation as best he could by suing for peace on difficult terms with Shapur to ensure the safety of the Roman army (Lenski 2000; Heather 1999a; Matthews 1989: 183–8; Scheda 1966; Conduché 1965).

  Ammianus is surprisingly vague about the purpose of Julian’s invasion. He attributes to Julian love of war, a desire for revenge, and hope of receiving the title “Parthicus” (22.12.1–2). The broader strategic goals, like Ammianus’ narration of the campaign itself, remain hazy and filtered through a mythical lens. Ammianus was an eyewitness to the expedition, and his historical, tactical, and geographical details have been generally judged favorably by modern historians. Nevertheless, Ammianus created a narrative which impresses the reader more for its emotional power than for its detailed accuracy.

  The importance of Julian’s Persian war to Ammianus, and the strangeness and difficulty of Ammianus’ narrative of the events, are the subject of a powerful article by Rowland Smith (1999; cf. also Matthews 1989: 130–79; Meulder 1991; Austin 1979: 92–101). Ammianus had warned the reader that his account of Julian will approach panegyric, and the emperor’s heroic longing for war against Persia moved the narrative into epic territory. Along the way, Ammianus underlines the magnitude of the task ahead and the audacity of Julian by reference to great heroes of the Roman past. The emperor died like a Homeric hero, and passed his last evening conversing as if in a Platonic dialogue. The epic nature of the story is magnified by the heavy foreshadowing of failure. Even while Julian was still in Antioch, numerous portents and omens made it clear that the expedition should not be undertaken. As the army moved south, further unfavorable signs occurred, and Ammianus tells us that the philosophers advising Julian were misunderstanding and misinterpreting these negative omens. Julian is absolved of blame for ordinary mistakes in strategy or tactics, and instead Ammianus portrays him as a doomed but glorious leader, whose faults are the heroic ones of aiming “beyond mortal aspirations” (22.9.1).

  At Antioch, Ammianus claims, Julian first became excessive in his ambitions (22.9.1). It was a bad omen that the emperor entered the city during the celebration of the Adoneia, when the population was sunk in ritual wailing and mourning (22.9.15).The failure of the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem also boded poorly for the future of the expedition (23.1.3). The twenty-third book is littered with evil signs: the death of fifty men in a hay accident (23.2.6), the death of a lion, the royal animal (23.5.8), the death of a soldier named Jovian by a lightning strike (23.5.12–14). While traditional interpreters of signs told Julian that this lightning strike portended evil for the campaign, the philosophers who advised Julian claimed that lightning was nothing but an atmospheric phenomenon, and that the death was therefore without significance.

  As the army neared Ctesiphon, Ammianus downplayed the ill omens, and praised the heroic exploits of emperor and his men as they besieged and sacked several cities. But before the walls of Ctesiphon, a sacrifice of bulls to Mars was unsuccessful, and Julian’s angry promise that he would never sacrifice to Mars again proved prophetic (24.6.17). The army could not successfully lay siege to Ctesiphon, but the discussion which followed this decision is missing from our manuscripts. When the narrative picks up, Julian has given the order to march toward the interior and to burn the ships (24.7). Ammianus says that the ships were burned to deny their use to the enemy and to free up the men who were responsible for transporting the ships for combat. In retrospect, however, he says that it was as if the goddess of battle frenzy herself had lit the deadly fire (24.7.4).

  The army was forced to retreat, pursued by Persian troops, and the omens became hopelessly bad (24.8.4). At night, Ammianus tells us, Julian watched his guardian spirit depart sadly from his tent (25.2.4). The next day, hastening without a breastplate to support the rear of the army against a Persian attack, Julian was pierced in the liver by a spear. Dying in his tent, Julian reassured his companions that he believed that the soul outlives the body, and that he found death in battle to be the most honorable way to die. After further philosophical talk, Julian died (25.3). Ammianus follows this affecting scene immediately with an obituary of the emperor. The historian is unstinting in his praise of Julian’s virtues, but does not refrain from criticism. Ammianus remarks that some critics would claim that Julian had provoked war with Persia to the detriment of the Roman state, but that, in fact, it was not Julian but Constantine who was to blame for hostilities between the two parties (25.4.23; Warmington 1981). After Jovian was chosen to succeed Julian, Ammianus unfairly blames him for the mess which Julian left behind (25.5–7; Heather 1999a).

  We know Eunapius’ version of the war largely through the outline of Zosimus. Eunapius tells us that he had at his disposal the memoirs of Oribasius, the doctor who had been a close advisor to Julian during the campaign (fr. 15). For these events, then, we would expect Eunapius to have been more accurate than usual, and in general Zosimus’ account is quite similar to that of Ammianus (3.12–30). Zosimus’ account of the fighting before Ctesiphon is, however, hopelessly confused (3.26), and it is impossible to tell how Eunapius had explained Julian’s burning of the ships and withdrawal. It seems clear that Eunapius did not cast blame on the emperor, since in one fragment the historian criticizes the carping soldiers who did not recognize the brilliance of Julian’s plan to march back to Roman territory (fr. 27.6). In another fragment he expresses concern that the soldiers might be corrupted by the great abundance of booty around Ctesiphon, so perhaps Eunapius portrayed Julian’s decisions as necessary because of the greed of the soldiers (fr. 27.5).

  Zosimus says that Julian was wounded by a sword and remained alive until midnight, which suggests that Eunapius preserved the deathbed philosophizing found in Ammianus (3.29.4). Most likely Eunapius did not offer any conclusions as to the identity of Julian’s killer (fr. 28.1). It is likely that Eunapius portrayed the Persian invasion as a success, since Zosimus claims that at the time of his death, Julian had almost completely destroyed the Persian empire (3.29.4). The harsh treatment of Jovian by Zosimus and by the author of a Suda entry perhaps drawn from Eunapius suggests that he, like Ammianus, blamed Jovian for squandering the “victory” which Julian had won.

  Eutropius, like Ammianus, was present on the expedition, and he, too, favors Julian and condemns Jovian (10.16–17). He writes that Julian captured several towns and forts, “laid waste to Assyria, and for a while set up camp before Ctesiphon. Returning home as victor … he was killed by an enemy’s hand” (10.16.1). Eutropius thus asserts as strongly as Eunapius that Julian had actually won the war against the Persians. Perhaps his statement that Julian was killed by an enemy is meant to rebut those who believed that the emperor was a victim of one of his own men.

  Festus provides a taste of the sense of doom familiar from Ammianus’ account, saying that Julian led “cursed standards” against the Persians (28.1). He describes the movement of the army to the gates of Ctesiphon and then a daring movement by sea. This attack, Festus claims in an echo of Eunapius, would have resulted in the taking of Ctesiphon if only the soldiers had not been distracted by booty (28.2). Festus, therefore, unlike Eutropius, does not claim that Julian had been victorious, although he absolves the
emperor of complete blame. Festus’ comment on the burning of the ships is of interest: “Despite his companions warning him to return, he had more faith in his own plan, and after he burned the ships, he was led by a deserter who had come for deception” (28.2). Although the connection is not clearly made, Festus seems to suggest that the burning was inspired by the deserter. In any case, he highlights Julian’s error.

  Festus’ account of the death of Julian contains a few more details than might have been expected in his abbreviated history (28.3). The fatal wound, he says, penetrated Julian’s hip to the groin, and he pins the blame on an enemy horseman. Festus also alludes to the philosophical end of the emperor, who “emits his delaying soul” after speaking of many things to his companions. Festus, like Eutropius, criticizes Jovian for failing despite his possession of an army “superior in battle” (29.1). This positive portrayal of Julian is surprising coming from a Christian like Festus who was so hated by Eunapius and Ammianus. Since Festus writes to support the coming Persian invasion by Valens, it is important for propaganda purposes to portray Julian’s expedition as wise and successful, and to emphasize the ignominy of Jovian’s surrender and cession of territory.

  Rufinus gives few details about Julian’s Persian invasion. The emperor “set out indeed, but never returned,” killed by either his own men or by the enemy (10.37). The accession of Jovian to power marks the return of “legitimate government,” and as soon as he becomes emperor, God’s providence is manifest (11.1). Persians provide food and supplies to the hungry army, and Jovian triumphantly restores peace to the eastern frontier and to the empire as a whole. Orosius, too, is sparing in his discussion of the invasion. He claims that the failure of the expedition occurred when Julian was misled by a traitor to move from Ctesiphon to the desert (7.30.6). Wandering carelessly through the wasteland, the emperor found death at the hands of an enemy. Jovian’s ensuing peace treaty was “not very worthy, but necessary enough” (7.31.1).