Count Belisarius (57 page)

During the coma, his living phantasm, which emitted a greenish-violet light, had been seen gliding about the Palace corridors and passing with ease through doors and walls, and sometimes floating feet foremost in and out of windows in a most gruesome manner, frightening the guards and servants out of their wits. On two or three occasions the phantasm was heard to speak. In each case the words were reported as follows: ‘O sweet Beelzebub, saviour of monarchs! Take me not yet, Beelzebub – the Angel would soar.' Some put one interpretation on this, and some another; but a few of us understood the Angel as Belisarius, whose wings Justinian kept so jealously clipped.

Belisarius, however, had now not merely one Imperial enemy but two. For a distorted version of what he had said to his generals at Carchemish was at once sent back to Theodora by John the Epicure and
Peter, his secret enemies, to cancel any report that might have reached her of their own lack of warmth in her cause. This, then, was the reason why all these generals were summoned back from Barbalissus to Constantinople.

At Constantinople the plague had now abated somewhat, and city life was resuming its former factious gaiety; a lively interest was taken in the coming judicial inquiry. As soon as Belisarius and the other generals arrived, they were informed that they were under arrest. The charge was high treason. Belisarius was temporarily relieved of his command in the East, which was handed over to Martin.

Belisarius was astonished. He declared himself ready to face his accusers with a cheerful conscience; for he had said nothing either untrue or disloyal. To the officers and men of his Household Regiment who had come with him he sent this message: ‘It seems that I have been unjustly slandered to His Clemency the Emperor, but I have every confidence that I shall be a free man before long. I charge you, by your love of me, to abstain from any rebellious or criminal act which would prejudice my acquittal. Obey the Emperor's officers in everything. Be patient.'

The trial was held at the Palace behind closed doors; and no report of the judicial findings – Theodora herself was the judge – was published. Belisarius conducted his own defence, and by cross-examining John the Epicure and Peter separately drove them to contradict each other. He tried to convince the Court, too, that they had been inefficient, quarrelsome, rapacious, disobedient officers, and ungrateful ones besides. He admitted that he had advised against Theodora's election as sole monarch; but was able to produce the minutes of the meeting, which his secretary had taken down, in proof of the innocence of his remarks: he had, he protested, merely upheld the Roman Constitution. Theodora could not convict him for treason. Yet she was resolved to harm him as much as she possibly could, for not having recommended her to his subordinates as Justinian's natural successor.

John the Epicure and Peter were complimented for their loyalty to the Throne and given presents of money and new titles.

The sentence on two or three of the offending generals, including Boutzes, was close confinement during their Majesties' pleasure. Boutzes was lowered into an unlighted dungeon, where he had nobody to share his misery and not even a word from the gaolers; scraps
of meat and bread were thrown to him once a day, as to a wild beast in a pen. It was only after two years and four months that he was released. By then he was broken by ill-health and had taken to crawling on his hands and knees, which were covered with callouses, and he had lost all his hair and most of his teeth. Moreover, the sudden return to the light of day was too much for his eyes – he was thereafter never able to read or distinguish objects clearly. Thus were avenged the inhabitants of Antioch, whose ransom-money Boutzes had stolen from the kind-hearted people of Edessa.

Belisarius, though proved not guilty of treason, was found guilty of ‘giving credence and currency to damaging rumours' (of Justinian's death), of failing to punish Boutzes for his disloyal words – and of permitting the capture of Callinicum! His removal from his command was confirmed, and all his property whatsoever in land, goods, or money was forfeited to the Crown.

Belisarius heard the sentence with dignity, and made no appeal against it. His only comment was that without funds he could not continue to equip, pay, and feed the Household Regiment, which had served the Emperor faithfully in many wars.

Theodora replied: ‘They rank as slaves of your household, and you need not, therefore, have any concern for their fate. They are forfeited too.'

At this he remained silent, but it was observed that he clenched his fists until the knuckles whitened. He loved the men of his Household Regiment, and could hardly bear that they should be taken from him to be mishandled by the generals of the common sort.

Theodora called to Narses and said: ‘The slaves of the former Commander of Armies in the East, this Belisarius, are to be divided up among the Palace generals and colonels, yourself to have the first choice. If any are left whom no Palace officer can afford to maintain, let the Secretaries of State draw lots for them.' Thus Belisarius had the pain of seeing many of the hardy men whom he had perfected in the arts of war become the door-keepers and attendants of perfumed eunuchs.

Belisarius lost not only the half-squadron of men who had come to Constantinople with him, but the remainder of his Household, now also recalled. He sent word around to them again, secretly: ‘Patience, comrades, I implore you! All will be well before long. Enjoy your holiday in the city, keep yourselves in training as I have taught you to
do, express no pity for me, swallow all insults. Patience!' They obeyed him, though unwillingly.

The city mob, who are notoriously as incapable of sound judgement as they are unstable of purpose, had heard the sentence on Belisarius with secret glee. They reasoned in the wine-shops: ‘Be sure, the Emperor and Empress have now at last ruined themselves by their ingratitude. Our Belisarius will not submit to such injustice. He is too bold and proud a man. Only wait: soon there will be news of a sudden rising by the Household Regiment and of bloody murder in the Sacred Apartments of the Palace.'

They waited with growing impatience. Nothing at all happened. They muttered in disgust among themselves that their former idol, their glorious hero Belisarius, was submitting to the spite and ingratitude of his sovereigns with a patience as abject as that in use among the penitential monks. (These squat like toads in their cells while the flagellant of the week, coming around with his wire scourge, flogs their backs until the old scars open again.) When at first the citizens had crowded about him in the street with shouts of indignant pity he repulsed them angrily, crying: ‘Gentlemen, be silent, this affair is between the Emperor and myself. Leave me, I beg you, and go about your businesses.'

He had a meagre attendance of four or five young officers, who clung to him from loyalty, though warned by Narses that they would thereby come under the Imperial suspicion and lose all chance of promotion. All his other associates were careful not to greet him – although, had he raised the standard of revolt, most of them would have rallied to it at once. He took mean lodgings near the Bull Square in a house attached to the Entertainment Halls. This is a group of halls, built around a central fountain, which families who have houses of only modest size can hire for wedding and funeral feasts and suchlike. Here he was dependent on these same young officers even for the necessities of life. But for them he must have applied for a wooden ticket and drawn the common dole. Theodora had not only stripped him of all his wealth in the city: she had also sent to Edessa, where he had banked a large sum of money for war-expenses, and made that hers too.

Every day he went to pay his respects at the Palace, as he would ordinarily have done. Justinian tried to goad him to rebellion by sneers and gibes; for the man's patience exasperated him. One morning
he refused to see Belisarius, alleging a press of business, and ordered him to wait outside the Palace Gates until the evening. Belisarius obeyed, standing all day outside the Gates without food, exposed to public curiosity. Then the mob, disgusted by what they regarded as miserable slavishness, pelted him with rotten fruit and filth, so that his patrician's gown was disgracefully stained. He uttered not a single word, and did not even stoop to avoid the missiles. But he dealt sternly with an impudent youth who came sneaking up along the wall and attempted to pull his beard. He seized the fellow by the breeches and tossed him a great distance; it is said that this youth suffered injuries which kept him an invalid for many years.

At dusk he was at last admitted to the Palace, and there begged leave to present an appeal to the Emperor. Justinian consented to consider the appeal, hoping that he had at last moved Belisarius to open resentment. He was disappointed: all that Belisarius asked was a new gown, so that he could present himself decently at the next audience.

Justinian replied tartly: ‘We have no money to clothe you, my Lord Belisarius. If you cannot afford to keep yourself in gowns, we had better strike your name from the roll of patricians: thus you will be released from all ceremonial obligations.'

Belisarius bowed low and replied: ‘In whatever rank or capacity I am permitted to serve your Majesty, I can be counted upon to do my duty faithfully.'

His name was removed from the roll, and he did not return to the Palace for many months.

All this time, of course, my mistress continued to enjoy Theodora's friendship and, so far from being deprived of any of her possessions, was made richer by the grant of much of Belisarius's property, including his large estate at Rufinianae. She pretended to be much more indifferent to her husband's misfortunes than, I know, she actually was. For my part I never mentioned Belisarius's affairs to her if I could avoid doing so; and whenever she alluded to them herself I was careful not to commit myself to any attitude. But it made my blood boil to see Theodosius pride it at Belisarius's expense. He was a great man at the Palace in those days, and went about attended by a train of 400 Thracians of the Household Regiment, whom Theodora had presented to him. He was constantly closeted with Theodora, having been appointed Master of Palace Entertainments.

Of the inner history of what occurred next many versions are
current – some plausible, some ridiculous, none authentic. At all events, the essential happening was that Theodosius died of a dysentery on St Stephen's Day, which is the day following Christmas Day; and whether this was a sheer accident or whether he was poisoned at the Christmas feast, and if so by whom, was never brought to the light of history. The few who examined his corpse inclined to the view that he was poisoned.

This much can be confidently said: his death is not to be laid at Belisarius's door, nor was any friend of Photius's responsible for it. It is not outside the limits of credibility that some officious domestic of my mistress Antonina thought thus to anticipate her wishes. I cannot discuss this. Needless to say, suspicion never fell upon Eugenius.

My mistress's feelings on Theodosius's death were confused. She had recently changed towards him, and with strange suddenness. She had come to believe, rightly or wrongly, that her favourite, by using the same courtier's arts that he had used with her, had now made himself a lover of Theodora's. He certainly was then treating my mistress with an indifference which she must have felt very galling, though she did her best to conceal the smart from everyone.

Theodora took the death lightly; she did not even interest herself in its cause. Yet she showed my mistress unaffected sympathy in her loss, and seemed to have no notion whatsoever that she had been nourishing such bitter jealousy. Some said that this lightness of heart was assumed by Theodora in order to deprive Justinian of satisfaction in her grief; for they said that it was the Emperor himself who had arranged Theodosius's murder, in jealousy of his wife's pleasure in him, and that in truth she felt his loss very keenly. But that was nonsense.

My mistress now fell into a deep melancholy; sleeplessness and lack of appetite wore her so thin that she looked ten years more than her age, which was now two-and-forty.

One day when I went into her boudoir she looked up, with eyes red from weeping. Though I had often seen her sullen, fretful, angry, despairing, I had not seen her weep since her girlhood.

I said to her gently: ‘Mistress, I was your first slave, and I have been faithful to you all my life. I am devoted to you, above everything in the world, and would die for your sake, as you know. Let me share in your misery, learning the cause of it. O Lady Antonina, my heart sinks when I see you weeping.'

The tears burst out afresh; but she did not reply.

Then I asked: ‘Mistress, dearest mistress, is it that you mourn for Theodosius?'

She cried out: ‘No, Eugenius, my faithful friend, no! By Hera and Aphrodite, no! It is not of Theodosius that I am thinking – but of my husband Belisarius. I must confide in you again, as I did long ago in my club-house days, lest my silence consume me. O dear Eugenius, I would give all I possess never to have cast eyes on false Theodosius. Belisarius has always been my real love – and, like a fool, I have utterly ruined him. Nor is there any undoing of my folly.'

I wept with her. ‘A reconciliation must be brought about at once,' I cried impulsively. But she answered that neither Belisarius's pride nor hers permitted a reconciliation. Moreover, Theodora had by no means forgiven Belisarius, and the Emperor hated him above all human beings.

After a little thought, I said: ‘I believe that I understand the whole case and can find a way out.'

‘There is no way out, Eugenius.'

Nevertheless, I went on boldly: ‘Mistress, it appears to me that if I were to go to Belisarius and tell him, what I believe has never been revealed to him, that Photius confessed under torture to having slandered you; and if I were to swear to him that you and Theodosius were never lovers; and if I were to tell him further that your oaths to Cappadocian John were sworn – were they not? – at the order of the Empress and that you have asked pardon of God for this offence and for your other blasphemies – would you not do that immediately, dearest mistress, to placate Belisarius? – and that you have far more cause to be offended by him than he by you…'