The battle was fought just outside Pollentia - now the little village of Pollenzo, but in imperial days an important manufacturing city - on Easter Sunday, 402. Of its outcome the chroniclers of the time give widely differing reports. It seems to have been the worst kind of battle: protracted, bloody and ultimately indecisive. At any rate the Goths advanced no further but retired once more to the East. On their way, Alaric made a surprise attack on Verona where, if Claudian is to be believed, he sustained an indisputable defeat at the hands of Stilicho. Once again, however, the Vandal captain allowed him to withdraw beyond the frontiers of Illyricum, his army still basically intact.
Stilicho had now had Alaric twice at his mercy - possibly three times, if we include that curious moment in Thessaly in 395 - only to let him go again; and the moment has now come to examine his motives rather more closely. From the start, his attitude towards the Gothic leader seems to have been strangely ambiguous. Professor Bury, in his History of the Later Roman Empire, first voices his suspicions when Stilicho tarries in Milan with the army of the East after the battle of the Frigidus; perhaps, he suggests, he had advance warning of Alaric's revolt and deliberately held back so that his own intervention might be even more essential at a later stage. Next comes the incident of the Thessalian stockade: does that, one wonders, ring altogether true? Was Alaric really so reluctant to fight? Or was Stilicho reluctant to weaken him? Oddest of all is the Goths' escape at Pholoe: Should we perhaps link this with Stilicho's known ambition to seize Illyricum and the Balkan peninsula from the Eastern and to attach it to the Western Empire - possibly under the dominion of his son Eucherius as co-Emperor - and deduce that Alaric may have agreed, in return for his freedom, to become his accomplice in the scheme? The hypothesis certainly seems plausible enough in view of subsequent events. We know too that Stilicho had growing dynastic ambitions; indeed, he was already the Emperor's father-in-law, having married his daughter Maria to Honorius in 398.1 Whatever the truth may be, it seems clear that he saw the Goths as being potentially useful allies in any future action against the Eastern Empire, and he had no desire either to break their strength completely or to sacrifice all of their goodwill.
At this time, however, Stilicho was still concealing his long-term plans; it was another five years before he came out into the open. Meanwhile relations between East and West had steadily deteriorated, largely owing to the character and the tribulations of the Bishop of Constantinople, St John Chrysostom. This saintly but insufferable prelate, by his scorching castigations of the Empress and her way of life, had made himself dangerously unpopular at court; and in 403 his long and impassioned dispute with Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria, gave Eudoxia the excuse for which she had been waiting: Chrysostom was deposed and exiled to Bithynia. But however many enemies he may have had in high places, he enjoyed considerable support among the people: riots broke out, followed by furious fighting in the streets between the local citizenry and the people of Alexandria who had come to Constantinople to support their bishop. That night, moreover, there was an earthquake - which so frightened the superstitious Empress (it was rumoured that she had a miscarriage on the spot) that the exiled prelate was recalled and reinstated.
John had won the first round; and if only he had agreed to moderate his tone a little all might have been well. Alas, he did nothing of the kind. Only a few weeks later he made a vigorous protest when a silver statue of Eudoxia - who had had herself proclaimed Augusta three
1 The marriage evoked 100 lines of peculiarly flatulent verse from Claudian, the lipithalamium ending with an affecting picture of an infant son sitting on his parents' knees. Maria is said, however, to have lived and died a virgin.
years before - was erected in the Augusteum, just outside St Sophia: the noise of the inauguration ceremony, he claimed, interrupted his services. Thereafter the breach between bishop and imperial family was complete, Eudoxia refusing to allow her husband any communication at all with the leading ecclesiastic of the Empire. Early the following spring, in the course of another synod summoned to decide upon the dispute with Alexandria, Chrysostom was again condemned; a recent sermon of his, containing the passage, 'Again Herodias rages . . . again she demands the head of John on a platter,' may not have helped his case. On this occasion, doubtless remembering the events of the previous year, Arcadius contented himself with debarring the bishop from his church; but matters came to a head at Easter when two thousand catechumens awaiting baptism gathered in the Baths of Constantine instead. What began as a service rapidly degenerated into a demonstration; the soldiers were called in to restore order; and the baptismal water, we are told, ran red with blood. On 24 June the recalcitrant bishop was exiled for the second time; once again, disaster overtook Constantinople. That same evening St Sophia was destroyed by fire - arson was suspected but never proved - the flames being blown by a strong north wind on to the Senate House nearby. By next morning the two buildings were charred and blackened shells, and the city's most important collection of antique statuary was lost. Less than four months later, on 6 October, there came the final, unmistakable sign of divine displeasure: the Empress had another miscarriage, which on this occasion proved fatal.
Shortly before his departure, Chrysostom had appealed to Pope Innocent I in Rome, protesting against his unjust sentence and demanding a formal trial at which to confront his accusers. The Pope summoned a synod of Latin bishops, which unanimously declared the previous synod invalid and, through Innocent and Honorius, called on Arcadius to restore Chrysostom to his see; a general assembly of Greek and Latin bishops, they suggested, could then meet in Thessalonica and settle the question once and for all. Meanwhile Honorius had addressed a stern letter to his brother, deploring the various disturbances which his mishandling of the affair had brought upon the capital and chiding him for the indecent haste with which the sentence of exile had been implemented without papal approval. To this letter a deeply offended Arcadius sent no reply, and there was a pause while the parties considered their next moves. At last, in 406, a delegation was sent jointly by Honorius and Innocent to Constantinople. Including as it did no less than four senior bishops, it could not be ignored; but once again Arcadius made his attitude plain enough. The envoys were not even permitted to enter the city. Instead, they were clapped into a Thracian castle, where they were interrogated and their letters snatched from them; only then, insulted and humiliated, were they allowed to return to Italy.
Thus, when St John Chrysostom died in a remote region of Pontus -possibly as a result of ill-treatment by his guards - in September 407, he left the Roman Empire profoundly split; and Stilicho decided that the time had come to put his long-cherished designs on Illyricum into effect. Alaric, 'he knew, was standing by to help him, awaiting only the signal to march. His first step was to order a blockade on the Eastern Empire, closing all Italian ports to Arcadius's ships. It was, in effect, a declaration of war; but Stilicho was still in Ravenna preparing the army for the coming campaign when a messenger arrived from Honorius, who was then in Rome, with news that stopped him in his tracks. Alaric, it appeared, was dead. Meanwhile the Roman Governor of Britain, Constantinus, had declared himself Augustus, crossed to Gaul and raised the standard of revolt. Clearly, Illyricum would have to wait a little longer; there was more urgent business to attend to. Leaving the army at Ravenna, Stilicho hastened to confer with Honorius in Rome.
On his arrival, he found that the first half of the message had been based on a false rumour. Alaric was alive and well in Illyricum, but greatly displeased that the enterprise which he and Stilicho had planned together was still further postponed. His preparations, he pointed out, had cost him much time and considerable expense, for which he expected compensation: 4,000 pounds of gold, to be paid at once. The members of the Roman Senate, to whom this demand was addressed, were predictably horrified; but Stilicho realized that the sum must be found and, taking full advantage of his special prestige as the Emperor's father-in-law, finally succeeded in persuading them. O
nly one senator had the courage to protest. 'This is not a peace,' he cried; 'it is a commitment to slavery.' But even he seems to have regretted his words, for it is recorded that as soon as the session broke up he sought refuge from Stilicho's wrath in a Christian church.
Early in May 408, the Emperor Arcadius died aged thirty-one, leaving the throne to his seven-year-old son, named Theodosius after his grandfather. For Stilicho, there could hardly have been better news. If he played his cards right, he would now be able to achieve everything he wanted in the East without bloodshed or even expense; there would certainly be no need for Alaric and his Goths, who would be left free to deal with the usurper Constantinus in Gaul. He easily dissuaded Honorius from his intention of going in person to Constantinople, pointing out that the arrival of a Western Emperor in the capital of the East would create more problems than it could possibly solve; far better that he should remain at Ravenna, where he had permanently established his court after the battle of Pollentia six years before. As magister militum, he himself would have no difficulty in arranging everything satisfactorily on his son-in-law's behalf.
But, for the second time in two years, his plans came to nothing. Perhaps his personal ambition was growing a little too obvious; many Christians, certainly, had been shocked by the speed with which, on the death of his daughter the Empress Maria earlier that year, he had induced Honorius to marry her younger sister Thermantia almost before the body was cold. Perhaps, too, he had incurred more disapproval than he knew by insisting on the huge payment to Alaric. Or possibly the old jealousies were slowly coming to the surface again: he was, after all, not a Roman but a Vandal, and Vandals were expected to know their place. Moreover the unrelenting severity of his discipline had caused serious dissatisfaction in the army: twice in the past year, at Bologna and again at Pavia, there had been minor mutinies. In short, he had become dangerously unpopular. At the court of Ravenna, the hostility to him was most marked in a certain minister named Olympius; and it was he, while travelling through Italy with Honorius in Stilicho's absence, who had managed to persuade the Emperor that his father-in-law was plotting treason against him.
We do not know the precise nature of the accusations, nor can we tell whether or not they had any foundation. The one certain fact of the story is that Stilicho was arraigned, accused, tried, found guilty and, at Ravenna on 23 August 408, put to death. His son Eucherius fled to Rome, where he managed to prolong his life by a few months; his sister Thermantia was removed from the imperial palace - still, it was said, as virginal as Maria had been before her - and sent back to her mother Serena. Serena herself was spared, but some months later was strangled by order of the Roman Senate on a charge of impiety. (Years before, visiting Rome in the company of her uncle Theodosius, she had entered the Temple of Rhea, Mother of the Gods, snatched a necklace from the statue of the goddess and mockingly put it round her own neck. The incident had never been forgotten.)1
1 'We may observe,' snorts Gibbon, 'the bad taste of the age, in dressing their statues with such awkward finery."
With the execution of Stilicho, all the pent-up hatred of Roman for barbarian suddenly found its release. In garrison after garrison throughout the Empire, the Roman legionaries sprang to arms and fell upon the Gothic, Hunnish or Vandal auxiliaries, sparing neither them nor their families. The massacres were terrible; so, however, were the consequences. Those barbarians who escaped death formed themselves into bands for their own safety, wandered through the countryside looting and pillaging, and finally found their way to Alaric, swelling his army by some 30,000. Previously loyal to the Empire, they had now become its implacable enemies, determined not to rest until they had taken vengeance on the murderers of their brothers, wives and children. For much of the tribulation that the Romans were to suffer in the next two years, they had only themselves and their countrymen to blame.
They also found, at one of the most critical moments in their history, that they lacked a commander. Whatever dark designs Stilicho may have harboured against the Eastern Empire, he had always remained a faithful servant of the West; had he been anything else, he would have had no difficulty in eliminating the idiotic Honorius years before. In such an event, his close connections with the imperial house would probably have outweighed the disadvantage of his barbarian origin and enabled him to assume the purple; even had they not, he could surely have arranged for a successor both capable and trustworthy. As it was -unless we are to accept as true the accusations of Olympius (described by Zosimus as one who, 'behind an outward appearance of deep Christian piety, concealed the most consummate villainy') - his loyalty never wavered. Stilicho was one of those barbarians who believed in the Empire; and for all his severity and occasional deviousness, he was a fine leader of men. Only when he had gone did the Romans realize just how irreplaceable he was.
Alaric too believed in the Empire - in his fashion. But he did not believe in Honorius. Still less did he trust the Roman Senate who, having reluctantly agreed to pay him the compensation he had asked, now tried to fob him off with only part of it. To do so, as they should have seen, was tantamount to an open invitation to invade; yet even now they made no attempt to mobilize the army - which had been stood down after Stilicho's death - or to strengthen their defences. So Alaric invaded; and in September 408 he found himself before the walls of Rome, his huge army of Goths drawn up behind him. Now at last the Romans began to understand the sheer magnitude of the catastrophe that they had brought upon themselves. They had never really believed that what they still persisted in seeing as an undisciplined horde of skin-clad savages could constitute a serious danger to the greatest city of the civilized world; even now there were those who maintained that the Goths lacked the patience and endurance required for successful siege warfare, and that within a few days they would turn their attention somewhere else.
A few days, however, were all that were needed for Alaric to establish a stranglehold. Every road, every bridge, every footpath, every inch of the walls was kept under constant watch, while patrols along the Tiber ensured that no provisions or supplies could be smuggled in by water. Inside the city, strict rationing was introduced. Soon the daily ration was cut to a half, soon afterwards to a third. By now, several cases of cannibalism had been reported. Daily, as winter approached, the weather grew colder, and before long the combination of cold and undernourishment brought the inevitable disease. Still the watch-towers were manned to the north-east, in the hope that an army of relief might appear from Ravenna to save the city in the nick of time; but gradually it became clear that there was no such relief to be expected: Honorius was not lifting a finger to save the old capital.
As Christmas approached, the defenders knew that they could hold out no longer. Ambassadors were dispatched to Alaric, and a ransom was agreed: 5,000 pounds of gold, 30,000 of silver, 4,000 silken tunics, 3,000 hides dyed scarlet and 3,000 pounds of pepper. The first two items involved the stripping of statues and their adornments from churches and pagan temples alike, and the melting down of countless works of art. This time, however, there were no renegations, no half-measures; the Romans had learnt their lesson, and the ransom was paid in full.
But the future remained uncertain, and Alaric still wanted a home for his people. Returning northward from Rome he stopped at Rimini, where he met the Praetorian Prefect, Jovius, with some new proposals. Honorius would make available the provinces of Venetia, Dalmatia and Noricum1 which, while remaining part of the Empire, would be allotted to the Goths as their permanent home, and would also grant them annual subsidies of money and corn to enable Alaric to keep them under arms; in return, Alaric would agree to a solemn military alliance, under the terms of which he would be the effective defender and champion of
1 Noricum roughly consisted of eastern Austria south of the Danube, plus the present Yugoslav Republic of Slovenia. The total area covered by the three provinces demanded by Alaric amounts to some 30,000 square miles, enclosed by a line drawn through Passau, Vienna, Dubrovnik and Veni
ce.
Rome and the Empire against any enemy whatever. To many a Roman, the offer seemed not unreasonable; Jovius himself certainly did not reject it out of hand, forwarding it to the Emperor only with the suggestion that Alaric might be prepared to moderate his demands if he were offered the title of magister utriusque militiae -'master of both militias', i.e. cavalry and infantry - that Stilicho had borne before him.
Honorius, however, would have none of it. The grant of lands he refused point-blank; as for the title, he had no intention (he replied to Jovius) 'that such an honour should ever be held by Alaric, or by any of his race'. It was, so far as we know, the first time he had shown a trace of spirit, or of anything resembling a will of his own; but he could hardly have chosen a more inopportune moment to do so. His army was demoralized and rudderless; it would not stand the faintest chance against Alaric when the Goths renewed their attack, as sooner or later they inevitably must. The Eastern Empire to which he had appealed for help could in no way be relied upon, being in a state of turmoil after the succession to the throne of a child of seven; to the west, Gaul, Britain and Spain were in the hands of a usurper against whom a single half-hearted expedition had ended in failure and who could at any moment march into Italy. If he did so, Alaric and his Goths might well prove an invaluable bulwark.
Thus Honorius, effectively defenceless, insisted on defiance; while Alaric, who could have crushed him with hardly an effort, still strove for peace. Jovius's mistake - and we can only hope it was a mistake - of reading the Emperor's letter aloud to the Goth did not improve the latter's temper; so anxious was he to reach an agreement, however, that a few weeks later he sent a delegation of bishops to Ravenna to use their influence with Honorius, while substantially reducing his own requirements. He would forget Venetia and Dalmatia; all that he now asked for his people was Noricum on the Danube - a province already so devastated by barbarian invasions as to be practically worthless - and enough of a subsidy to allow him to feed his men.
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