Declining and Falling

CONSTANTINE and LICINIUS

Diocletian had been the first stage of the transformed Empire, and his transformation was consolidated and extended by its second stage, Constantine, through his founding of the city of Constantinople that would carry forth the Roman name in tradition if not reality until 1453, and, more importantly, his espousal of Christianity that would ultimately influence the course of the Empire and at length, the wider world. His motivations are the subject of dispute, by turns pious and unscrupulous, noble and manipulating. He quite displayed the Danube that cleaves the soul in everyone, dividing it into the realms of civility and barbarism.

By 313, the defeats of Maxentius, the attempted Emperor in Italy and Maximinus Daia, the legitimate successor to Galerius in the East brought the control of the Roman world into the hands of two men, Constantine and Licinius. Licinius was an old friend of Galerius; both had shared a tent on campaign and the rigours of many army encampments in the wilderness. In 308, Licinius had been nominated to the Imperial honours of the West, but unable to confront Maxentius' venality with his uncertain swords unable to cleave Maxentius' coins, Licinius consolidated his position in the Balkans, and ultimately, with the defeat of Daia, extended it throughout the East.

Constantine and Licinius now embarked upon an uneasy relationship that bore all the symptoms of a truce, no trust or friendship exhibited between them as prevailed between Diocletian and Maximian. The mere thought that another man controlled half the realm was an intolerable thought to them both, especially to Constantine, whom after his conversion to Christianity mounted a lofty height and cast an affronted glance far below him, to observe Licinius disporting himself in a slough of profanity and godlessness.

In 316, Licinius and Constantia's marriage bore the fruit of a son, and Licinius, proudly peering into the cradle at the slumbering babe, quite naturally saw the boy as his logical successor. Constantine, however, proposed one Bassianus, his half-sister's husband to the title instead. Licinius, picturing his boy, helpless to defend his inheritance, blissfully ignorant of his lofty fall from an Imperial height, at once broadcast his refusal. This word, communicated back to Constantine, prompted a smile to spread across his face fed by satisfaction. Licinius' refusal, eagerly hoped for, would provide sanction and justification for his invasion of Licinius' realm. Constantine raised his unique standard and in the fall of 316, led his soldiers into the Balkans. Presumably sped on by sword-wielding angels, their blades afire in Victory, their partiality was exercised as Constantine's forces met their adversary near the town of Cibalae and won a resounding victory.

Licinius mounted his charger and abandoned his camp and the slaughter that abounded near it, making a rapid flight to the city of Serdica where dwelt a fresh legion of troops and one general by the name of Valens. Dusty and harried, Licinius tore into Valens' chambers who arose with a start at the sudden presence of the Emperor. Fastening hands onto Valens' shoulders, Licinius named him Caesar and successor, his predicament refusing to admit a vision of his boy into mind. With alacrity, Valens offered his soldiers who were at once mustered into the service of Licinius. In early 317, near Hadrianople, a second clash of aims between Constantine and Licinius. The vibrant angelic colour of partiality faded to the wan wash of indifference in regards to this second battle and it ended in a stalemate. As the dead were gathered off the field and swathes of wine-soaked bandages were applied to alleviate the sufferings of the wounded, Constantine and Licinius met in a conclave in Constantine's tent, and there, as the tramp of boot and stab of cry played out in the tumultuous environs, terms between them were arranged. Licinius flushed, lowered his head and nodded. He preserved his throne, but he was forced to abandon his benefactor as Valens' attention to duty was foully rewarded with the executioner's axe. Next, Licinius' Balkan possessions were handed over into the keeping of Constantine. Licinius' infant son was confirmed in his title of Caesar, and Constantine's boys, the youth Crispus and his own infant boy, Constantius II, were also presented with the titles of Caesar. As none of these junior partners were yet of an age to exercise power, this last agreement was of little more substance than the creatures that were revealed at the bottom of a too-deep goblet of Mammertine wine.

For the next seven years, matters rested, albeit in surface detail. During this span of years, the ardency and sincerity of Constantine's embrace of the Nazarene increased dramatically. He aspired to be akin to an apostle, his papers and edicts a display of fidelity to the Christian revelation, praise of the deliverer of the Israelites and of the whole of mankind upon the mount of Cavalry. His religious zeal teemed upon the papyrus as priests and bishops suddenly swarmed upon the marble of the palace, gamboling about amidst the fumes of incense and the hymns of devotion. Constantine declared himself the champion of Christians and Christianity. A flood of ecclesiastical building ensued in Rome, shrines and churches appearing in the outskirts, opposing the cluster of temples in the centre of Rome and causing a flutter in the glow in the eternal flame tended by the Vestals in the most sacred precincts of pagan Rome. A tide of treasure made possible by the sudden favour of the state enriched the churches in gold and silver and a flow of gems. Appearing in the Christian tabernacles, this was a different treasure than that advanced by an earlier Church, that compelled to surrender its treasures to the pagan magistrate, presented him with the assembled sick and destitute inhabitants of the city.

In the East, Licinius maintained a somewhat less partial outlook. In his portion of the Empire the Christians were tolerated and even allowed to establish themselves in positions of authority. In time, Licinius began to doubt the loyalty of these votaries of Christ and began to fear that they were working to advance the aims of Constantine, to despoil him of his crown and deliver the East to their champion. In 324, Licinius passed edicts that did not cast them before lions and the amusement of the mob, but did disabuse them of the offices of authority, the hand of a bishop removed from a lever of government.

Constantine roared with the vehemence of Moses before obdurate Pharaoh, and summoned both troops and their devotion to descend upon Licinius and loose the ties of the impious bondage of his decrees. Constantine donned his helmet, and below, his face betrayed an inner pleasure through the righteous fury over the pretext and sanction Licinius' legislation provided. News that Licinius, succumbing to the demons of paranoia sped on by Beelzebub himself, had lately increased the severity of his edicts and had sent soldiers on a deed of profanation, demolishing churches and presiding over the fall of axe upon bishop's necks, sped preparations, the chants of priests melded with the furious pounding of iron upon the anvil resounded throughout Constantine's half of the realm. When all was at last completed, Constantine appeared before his legions and bade all beseech the beneficence of their Lord, before charging forth to the East, his soldiers following behind, the tromp of sandal and boot thunderous. Licinius, alerted to the advance of Constantine, called forth his own army to the standards and the defence of his throne. The resulting clash was fought near Hadrianople, where in the early summer of 324, the forces of Licinius fell an easy prey to the sanctified steel of Constantine. There was a tumult and panic in the camp of Licinius, spears and bows cast away by the harried survivors as Licinius grimly looked on from his open tent. Begged to flee by his generals, Licinius pondered defiance before Constantine, before pushing an arm across the map table, inkpots and scrolls and goblets falling to the floor and bounding out of his tent, in flight to the eastward, Licinius again sought a co-ruler. At length Licinius secured the assistance of one Martinianus, who possessing a fresh levy of troops, was named his Caesar at once. They were mustered, these uncertain peasants of Asia Minor with no vim or enthusiasm, the thought of battle with Constantine transmitting to one and a shared tremble. Licinius scowled at the display and only with exertion and execution compelled them to march forth, the stern and shrill cries of a centurion vainly attempting to dress the peasants in the term 'martial.'

Constantine had been in a rapid pursuit, bounding quickly over the Bosphorus straits between Asia and Europe. The drills of Licinius' centurions were still being conducted when the sudden approach of Constantine forced battle upon Licinius. The struggle was quickly resolved in favour of Constantine, the mass of Licinius' bloodied and harried army throwing away their shields and spears and making flight into the hills, trampling over their fellows in a bid for escape and in October 324, the uncontested sole rule over the Empire was Constantine's. Speedily surrendering and soon thereafter captured, and bound in chains and affright, Licinius and Martinianus were brought before Constantine. There in the Imperial tent, along with candles and priests, could also be discerned magnanimity. Constantine arose from his campstool and addressed them in a mild tone, directing the fetters to be dashed away from Licinius and Martinianus. Because of their rapid capitulation both men were, though compelled to surrender their titles, allowed to retain their lives and permitted to retire to a quiet obscurity. Licinius' and Martinianus' gratitude to the leniency of Constantine was a short-lived figment that fled before their ambition as both men soon chased after another spray of laurel leaves to press down upon their brows, Licinius still seeking the just inheritance of his son. Their revolt was a tenuous affair that collapsed, and severity succeeded the mildness of Constantine. Licinius and Martinianus were seized, made the sport of iron and fire and at length they were hanged, Licinius perishing with his boy, his life forfeit as the son of an outlaw, the full provision of his eight years elapsed.

The lordship of the Empire was Constantine's, but still enemies might be discerned by the eyes of Constantine that scanned with the most minute of examinations any sign of mutiny. At length these examinations fed a paranoia that ultimately would lead to the fall of his son Crispus. Crispus had grown into a sturdy young adulthood and much like his father, adapted well to the camp and engendered a devotion of the soldiers. Crispus played a leading role in the campaign against Licinius and in the aftermath of the war, was celebrated as a hero and was covered in garlands and glory. Constantine beamed over the achievements of his son and rewarded him with the West of the Empire and presented him with a court of his own. The future seemed assured for Crispus, but it was a future viewed with an extreme distaste by the wife of Constantine, Fausta. She had mothered a growing brood, Constantius II, Constans I and Constantine II. Fausta was an ambitious creature, and sought the accession of her sons to the Imperial power. Crispus was the fruit of an earlier marriage between Constantine and one Minervina whom Constantine was compelled to divorce in order to wed Fausta and advance his position, and Fausta was ill disposed for the issue of another woman to confound the ascent of her own boys with Constantine. Fausta resolved that Crispus must be ruined, but tread very carefully, aware of Constantine's devotion for the boy. Over several months she calculated and surmised the various courses of action, fingering her collection of glass figurines from Egypt and her coral dainties brought from a blistering Arabian shore. She had still not conceived of a plan when it was announced that Crispus would be visiting the court in May of 326. At once the insidious nature of her mind was revealed as Fausta sent word to Crispus to hasten his appearance and commanded the vast resources of the palace be committed to producing an elaborate banquet on behalf of the young hero. Crispus arrived to the cheers and applause of all, and the embrace of Constantine and indeed Fausta herself. Flagons of wine were drained at the feast, and flagons more summoned to the table, until Crispus, swaying with drink was compelled to retire. Fausta, desisting from wine herself and feeling all was prepared, pounced. Crispus was roused from sleep and bade to appear before Fausta in the Imperial bedchambers, and duly arriving, mind fogged and feet unsteady, Fausta at once conceived a false sexual ardour for the boy, and attempted seduction. This scene was carefully timed as to ensure Constantine's witness and indeed, Constantine, sodden in wine, having quit the feast and going to join Fausta, strode into the room presently to behold a scene of Fausta suddenly running in tears, issuing a cry. Fausta tore herself away from Crispus and threw herself into the arms of Constantine, screeching that Crispus had been the one guilty of the indiscretion. Constantine fastened eyes upon his son and became the chattel of rage. Constantine's arms shot out to inflict an Imperial punishment of death that was only interrupted by the speedy arrival of guards who conducted Crispus to a prison cell and soon thereafter to death.

Fausta triumphed but briefly, for on a visit to Rome soon thereafter, Constantine was made aware of the true facts through his condemning mother, Helena, who had been apprised through her spies in the palace put there to observe the machinations of Fausta that Helena had suspected. Wiping angry tears from her eyes, Helena next informed Constantine of the true dalliance of his wife committed with Crispus' old tutor and Fausta's paramour, Lupus. Constantine again was the possession of fury, and such sped his return to Fausta in Milan, face hosting an ugly countenance of vengeance.

Lupus was summoned at once before Constantine and dissolved into tears and cries as his crime was delineated and he was handed over to the executioner's axe. His anger rising to its climax, Constantine advanced upon Fausta, who, as usual, could be found luxuriating in the confines of her marble bath, drowsily idling away hours in the perfumed steam. She was only dimly aware of Constantine's approach, and in a tone reflexive, natural and seductive called out for Lupus. Confirmed in his course, Constantine bellowed and lunged, strangling Fausta to death, avenging Crispus and his own affront. Thus acted the First Christian Emperor.

Constantine's embrace of the Nazarene and the quality of its sincerity is fiercely debated. Constantine was well aware of this faith, as it had been steadily growing in the Roman world since the deed upon Golgotha. In its earliest days it was spread by the industry and the genius of Paul whose wanderings had planted its seeds in many portions of the Empire, and nourished by his epistles the sect slowly grew, firstly a community of slaves and fishermen and porters and eventually of their masters acknowledging one greater than they. As numbers expanded, and the scrolls of scripture-bearing papyrus increased in amount and in variety, men such as elders and presbyters and bishops evolved to ordain the forward course of the Church and discern orthodoxy and heresy and comfort their congregations as the eyes of Caesar would turn upon them in fury as the evidence of their obstinacy and hostility to the presiding and protecting divinities of Rome was discovered by the wider world. Nero had kindled the first persecution against them to divert his complicity in the Great Fire in AD 68, and flame and blade were summoned to chastise the enemies of the gods next by Emperor Domitian. A long peace ensued until intruded upon by the rancour of Marcus Aurelius who "despised the Christians as a philosopher and punished them as an Emperor" and loosed tribulation upon them. Another lengthy period of tranquillity then followed, interrupted by the persecutions of Decius, desirous of courting patriotism through the gods and of Valerian who viewed this stubborn sect as a poison assaulting and withering the hallowed foundations of Rome.

The chaos and horror of the times swelled the numbers of adherents, the truth of the Christian revelation professed by lips ever more learned and possessed of authority. Aurelian glowered and threatened harms to the Christians in order to advance the cause of Sol Invectus and at last Diocletian, influenced by the zeal of Galerius, launched the greatest of persecutions driven by the thought that if this burgeoning rival was not extinguished it would capture the Empire. And indeed, by the time of Constantine, the Church, strengthened and tempered by the tumult and trial, this example noticed by all, had become the most organized entity in the Empire other than the Army itself, with a swarm of bishops and innumerable lesser entities in the ecclesiastical hierarchy installed in humble country shrine and in the corridors of the highest powers expounding the nature of their creed.

Constantine had originally been a sun worshipper, a legacy of Aurelian, who although unsuccessful in imposing the will of Sol Invectus on wider society, did achieve the adherence of the Army. Apollo, as he bore the sun across the sky in his chariot was associated with Sol, and these names appeared on coinage well into Constantine's reign. Constantine was also well aware of the last great philosophy of the Ancient World, Neoplatonism, the conception of a divine One at the centre of the Universe who emanated forth through ever-increasing levels of corruption and failing light down to the earthly surface. The family of Olympus was but some of his emanations and indeed any other gods might be so termed. Constantine's initial embrace of the Nazarene might have gifted him with such a definition, and as such, he would not immediately have denied the other gods.

The conversion of Constantine came famously before the Battle of the Mulvian Bridge, when as he prepared his troops for battle, a vision of a cross of light appeared in the sky above Rome. Constantine was most intrigued and queried his advisers and ministers who at once returned that it was the emblem of Apollo, also represented by a cross. Constantine was inclined to agree and as the cross faded from the sky, conversation returned to martial matters. The day followed the cross, and Constantine, fatigued, weary and strangely disquieted, suddenly despairing of victory over Maxentius retired to his tent and fell into a deep slumber. In a dream, the identity of the cross was confirmed. Christ appeared, Cross in attendance, and Constantine was bade in all cosmic majesty "By this sign, Conquer." As the dream concluded, Constantine at once arose from his cot, suddenly secure in his vision and purpose. At once artisans and a bolt of purple silk were summoned, the Labarum or the Standard upon which the Cross would be displayed was hurriedly created as the soldiers were mustered by a trumpet blast and informed of Constantine's decision. He communicated to them of his new adherence to the Nazarene and assured them that their spiritual devotions were entirely their own to ordain. Constantine's religious acceptance was answered by a massed scratching of sword blade upon shield as they were marked with crosses themselves. Under this sign, Constantine did indeed conquer, as Maxentius, laden with the weight of defeat toppled into Tiber and was drowned with the slain.

Constantine, though now a committed Christian, continued to extend his tolerance to the wider Empire that still was predominately pagan, and above all to the still-powerful noble families of Rome that continued to kneel before the altars of Jupiter and Neptune. But within the Christian fold his affability was not on display, as he quickly adopted and championed the cause of orthodoxy. A unified church would be the partner of his labours, a prop and support of the State. Church councils and synods were convoked; schism was branded infamous and heresy was made outlaw and those deluded Christians who persisted in false practices and doctrines such as those that bestowed a too great or too little amount of the Divine in the Nazarene and those affirming a continuing stream of revelations, soon found themselves harried and persecuted, property despoiled and lives threatened.

After the defeat of Licinius, Constantine grew yet more zealous in his promotion of Christianity, and, in 324, issued the first edicts against paganism. The temples of the gods were divested of a sacrosanct protection and plundered. The priest decried the statues of Jove and Hercules as but habitations for demons and presided as the images were hacked to dust or melted down by the zealous, the treasures of gem and gold transferred to the formerly barren and homely churches and when the temples were denuded of possession the structure itself was molested to supply ready-made pillars to the new tabernacles. Such was required in an age when the skill of the craftsman was in signal decline and talent on the wane. The pagan magistrate and his rude, inexperienced fury was replaced in the judgment seat by a Christian magistrate and his more refined techniques of persuasion applied to the full against the yielding substance that comprised a pagan, in order to forestall the fall of an axe and their delivery into eternal flames. They cheerfully abandoned sacred prostitution and at least publicly heeded the laws banning sexual immorality. The shadow of the bishop's mitre thrust itself between Apollo and his votaries.

Despite these measures, the powerful families of Rome continued their devotions and in the Senate the Venerables persisted in their oblations to the statue of the Goddess of Victory, the incense still burning and the consecrated wine still being poured upon it seeking the good tidings of Nike. Constantine, closeted with his bishops, exploring points of an evolving doctrine, would pause to consider these defiant observations. Shifting uneasily in his seat, a glower stealing across his face, he realized that his edicts would require time in their goal of the transformation of Pagan Rome into Christian Rome, persuading the sensible and punishing the obstinate. A bishop, propounding upon a definition of an abstruse theological term might have noticed the glower on Constantine's face suddenly replaced by a more genial expression and been gratified; however it would be seen that was the occasion that Constantine resolved that a new capital must be built, a new city, Christian from its very foundation, a vast and opulent new metropolis that would bear the name New Rome. The bishops were dismissed, and his secular ministers were summoned to his chambers. All agreed with alacrity that a second Rome must rise from which the cause and the goals of the Nazarene, and of those who purported to advance them, might be broadcast over the entire world. There was a flourish of maps and stabs of fingers upon the papyrus as a host of sites were discerned, proposed and rejected. After an attempt to found the city on the site of old Troy, a perfect location was found upon the Bosphorus, that narrow strait separating Asia and Europe, where lay the minor city of Byzantium, eminently defensible and at a nexus of trade routes.

By late 324, a vast building project had begun, as mason and architect descended upon Byzantium on a deed of transformation. Over the next several years, marble was hewn, stone cut, the dust of construction rising up in a vast cloud, as forums were built, amphitheatres rising, palaces appearing alongside wide streets swarming with the worker and the overseer. The cloud did not clear until 330, when most building had been completed, and Constantine arrived to survey the creation, most pleased as he gazed upon the new conurbation, destined to outshine Rome itself. A lavish dedication was then held, with chariot races, wine sodden ceremonies, priests on parade, their censers swinging in blessing through the new avenues where the continuing sound of the ringing of chiselling upon the marble mated well with the chanting. Senators and other men of high position, forcibly relocated from their mansions in Rome to dwell in this new city attended by their trove of treasures, were to be seen in the procession as well, concealing their private indignation, publicly cheered Constantine's accomplishments, kissing the proffered cross of a priest. Thus was founded Constantinople, the Second Rome, the inheritor of the mantle of state and the mission of civilization as old pagan Rome had yielded and retired.

After a series of Danubian campaigns in the 330's, Constantine continued to advance Christianity through the guise of arms. A plan for the invasion and Christianization of Persia was proposed, and in the midst of the campaign, Constantine would display the depth of his piety and pause to be baptized in the Jordan River, emulating his Saviour. The devotion of the army had not faded for Constantine and they swarmed to the standard and upon fleet sandals, a rapid march to Palestine was commenced. In early 337, Constantine arrived in the stone and meadow clad Biblical fields, but oppressed by the weight of accumulating years, the upcoming campaign was beyond him to pursue, and, the grip of death fastening itself upon him, in May 337, Constantine retired to his bed at a villa of Imperial Standard at Ankyrona. There, the rite of baptism was performed, and cleansed of his crimes and the indictment of his misdemeanours, secure in his destination, Constantine then expired. His body was taken under a mournful guard to Constantinople and interred in the new Church of the Holy Apostles, built as a monument to his devotion, and perhaps to his vanity. It bore within it 12 false sarcophagi, representing the 12 Apostles, with his sarcophagus set in the middle, surrounded by the others as a planetary system about its sun, enrolling himself in their number, inheriting the earth without quite observing the injunction of meekness.

Diocletian and Constantine, emerging out of the Chaos, were the turning points of the Empire, effecting the greatest revolutions in its history since Julius and Augustus Caesar. The transformation of the Empire was well advanced in a haze of new concepts of law, of administration, of war. New styles of art, symbolic and otherworldly succeeded the optimistic naturalism of a previous age, political significance and the gods of Homer had fled Rome as a new Christian capital arose to ordain the course of the Empire. But the Roman Empire it remained, the name transferred from the world of Augustus and Trajan that had perished in the Chaos to that of Diocletian and Constantine that had been born in it.