BELISARIUS.
A. D. 565.
The imagination of poets, painters, and sculptors, backed by one of Marmontel’s novels, has helped to make of an apocryphal tradition a matter of history which has been believed in by the many, who are ever open-mouthed to receive the marvellous upon trust.
This tradition relates to the general Belisarius, the conqueror of the Vandals, who, after having been falsely accused of treason, is said to have been deprived of his sight by the Emperor Justinian, and to have been reduced to such a state of poverty that he was compelled to beg his bread in the streets of Constantinople.
No contemporary historian mentions these circumstances; but they have been repeated age after age without examination, and several learned men of repute, such as Volaterranus, Pontanus, &c., have helped to propagate the error in the literary world.
In the 16th century it was so unquestionably accepted by the Italians, that they gave the name of Belisarius begging to a beautiful ancient statue then in the Borghese museum, which Winckelmann, in his Histoire de l’Art, has proved to be no other than a statue of Augustus propitiating Nemesis.
Between the years 1637 and 1681, this fable was made the subject of several tragedies. In the following century Marmontel composed and published his romance of Belisarius, the conception of which arose from an engraving that came into his possession. In his Memoirs he himself thus explains the circumstance:
“I had received a present of an engraving of Belisarius taken from the fine picture of him by Van Dyck. My eyes were continually attracted to the face, and I was seized with an irresistible desire to treat this interesting subject in prose; and as soon as the idea took possession of me, the pains in my chest and lungs seemed to leave me as if by magic. The pleasure of composing my story, the care I took in arranging and developing it, occupied my mind so entirely, that I was drawn away from all thoughts of self.”
The novel was so successful that it was translated into almost every language of Europe, and three successive editions appeared. But the really ludicrous part of the story is, that in the preface to the edition of 1787, the author declares that he has followed from first to last the account given by Procopius, while in fact the details presented by this contemporary of Belisarius in the five first chapters of his Secret History are diametrically opposed to the picture drawn by Marmontel.
Thus then the fiction of blind Belisarius begging was quickly propagated, and was helped on by the artist David, who painted in 1781 his celebrated picture of the general. Again, in the reign of Napoleon I., M. Jouy wrote a tragedy on this subject, but he only obtained permission to bring it out in 1825, and thanks to the immense talent of Talma it was very well received. M. Jouy, in his preface, showed his ignorance as an historian by saying, “I have kept faithfully to the facts, details, and characters authorised by history.”
Lastly, this error appears in modern times in a Turkish tradition, and is noticed by Feller in his Universal Biography. “There is shown to this day,” says he, “a prison in Constantinople called the Tower of Belisarius. It stands on the borders of the sea, on the road from the castle of the seven towers to the seraglio. The common people say that the prisoners let down a small bag at the end of a string to solicit alms from the passers-by, saying: “Date obolum Belisario quem Fortuna evexit, Invidia oculis privavit.”
After having traced as briefly as possible the origin of this fable, we will dwell for a moment on the manner in which the best and most learned critics have treated it.
The hackneyed story of Belisarius, blind and begging, was unknown to all contemporary authors without exception. Not one can be quoted as having mentioned so remarkable a circumstance. From the 6th to the 12th century, no writer who speaks of this great general ever alludes to his blindness or to his poverty.
The French historian Le Beau, in his “Histoire du bas Empire,” says: “The fall of Belisarius gave rise to a ridiculous story which has been for 600 years repeated by poets and prose writers, but which all well-informed authors have agreed in refuting.”
The real fact, drawn from the best sources, and recorded by Gibbon, is this:
About two years after the last victory of Belisarius over the Bulgarians, the Emperor Justinian returned in bad health from a journey to Thracia. There being a rumour of his death, a conspiracy was formed in the palace, but the conspirators were detected, and on being seized were found to have daggers hidden under their garments. Two officers of the household of Belisarius were accused, and torture induced them to declare that they had acted under the secret instructions of their chief. Belisarius appeared before the council, indignant and undaunted. Nevertheless, his fidelity, which had remained unshaken for forty years, availed him nothing. The emperor condemned him without evidence; his life was spared, but his fortune was sequestrated, and from December 563 to July 564 he was guarded as a prisoner in his own palace. At length his innocence was acknowledged, and his freedom and honours were restored; but death, which might possibly have been hastened by grief and resentment, removed him from the world within a year of his liberation.
About 600 years after this event, John Tzetzes, poet and grammarian, born in Constantinople, attempted in ten bad Greek verses to draw a picture of Belisarius deprived of sight and penniless. The tale was imported into Italy with the manuscripts of Greece, and before the close of the 15th century it was taken up by more than one learned writer and universally believed.
The credulity of the multitude is such, that they still persist in ignoring the refutation of Samuel Schelling (Dissertatio historica de Belisario, Witteb. 1665, in 4ᵗᵒ), of Th. Fr. Zeller (Belisarius, Tubing. 1809, in 8ᵛᵒ), of Roth (Ueber Belisar’s Ungnade, Bâle 1846, in 8ᵛᵒ) and many others.
In a note to Gibbon’s History edited by W. Smith LL.D., we see that two theories have been started in modern times to account for the fable of the beggary of Belisarius. The first is that of Le Beau, who supposes that the general was confounded with his contemporary John of Cappadocia. This prætorian prefect of the East, whose crimes deserved a thousand deaths, was ignominiously scourged like the vilest of malefactors, clothed in rags and transported in a bark (542) to the place of his banishment at Antinopolis in Upper Egypt, and this ex-consul and patrician was doomed to beg his bread in the cities which had trembled at his name.
The second supposition is that of Mr. Finlay (History of the Byzantine Empire), who suggests that the story took its rise from the fate of Symbatius and Peganes, who, having formed a conspiracy against Michael III., in the 9th century, were deprived of their sight and exposed as common beggars in Constantinople.
It is not likely, however, that the fate of men in the ninth century should have been confused with that of individuals in the sixth.
It is right to add, that Lord Mahon, in his Life of Belisarius, argues in favour of the tragic fate of Justinian’s celebrated general. “But,” observes Dean Milman, “it is impossible to obtain any satisfactory result without contemporary evidence, which is entirely wanting in the present instance.” These words from the learned Milman lead us to suppose that he rejects the authority of Procopius, who accompanied Belisarius as counsellor and secretary in his Eastern wars, in Africa, and in Italy, as he himself informs us; and who, in his Anecdota,[12] devotes five chapters to the life and misfortunes of Belisarius, without saying one word either of his blindness or of his abject poverty.
Ernest Renan, in his Essais de morale et de critique, has also examined into the trustworthiness of the Secret History of Procopius, and he arrives at the opinion, that this author had only exaggerated the crimes of the wicked century in which Justinian lived. He would then have been the last to soften the disgrace incurred by Belisarius.
At the time of the fall of Napoleon I., a popular song written by Népomucène Lemercier on Belisarius, became more than ever in vogue, as it contained allusions to the misfortunes of the companions in arms and soldiers, attached to the emperor. At all the Bonapartist reunions they sang:
“Un jeune enfant, un casque en main,
Allait quêtant pour l’indigence,
D’un vieillard aveugle et sans pain,
Fameux dans Rome et dans Byzance;
Il disait à chaque passant
Touché de sa noble misère,
Donnez une obole à l’enfant
Qui sert le pauvre Bélisaire!”
In France this ballad contributed greatly to keep up a belief in the fabulous story which we have here examined.