Jovinian: A Story of the Early Days of Papal Rome

by William Henry Giles Kingston

From the roof to which they mounted they could see fires blazing in all directions, while the shrieks and cries of the enraged factions rose up from the streets—some near, and others in the far distance.

Whenever the followers of Ursinus met those of Damasus, they attacked each other with the greatest fury.

During the whole night the tumult raged. In the morning bodies of dead men were seen scattered about in all directions. Ursinus still held the basilica, which his followers began to fortify. The party of Damasus resolved to dislodge them. For this purpose he and his supporters were employed the whole day in gathering together all they could induce to join them. Heathens, provided they came armed, were as welcome as others. The prospect of sacking the houses of the other party afforded them sufficient temptations. Once more did the prefect attempt to restore order; but barely escaped with his life. The voting for the two rival candidates for the bishopric had been going on,—first one party, then the other, being at the head of the poll. The rage of the rival factions increased when either appeared to be successful or were losing ground. The tumult raged with even greater violence than on the previous night. Now Damasus, at the head of an organised band, advanced through the streets towards the basilica. Ursinus himself, with a less numerous party, in vain attempted to reach it, in order to support its garrison. The doors were burst open, and the forces of Damasus rushed in. A fearful combat took place. The edifice in which prayers and hymns of praise were wont to ascend resounded with the frantic shouts of the combatants, with the shrieks of the wounded and the groans of the dying. For hours the fight continued to rage. Now the assailants gained an entrance; now they were again driven out by the desperate efforts of the besieged, who believed that a general massacre would take place should they once be overcome.

At length so many of their number had fallen, that, bursting through the door opposite to that at which the chief attack was going on, they made their escape, pursued by their enemies. The party of Damasus, flushed with victory, drove back the followers of Ursinus wherever they were met; and he himself, believing that his cause was lost, retreated with a few of his ecclesiastical supporters from the city.

When morning broke he was nowhere to be found. His few followers wisely retired to their homes; and the prefect, returning, was at length able to restore order.

Fearful were the scenes which Rome presented, as Jovinian and Prudentius once more ventured forth. Smoking ruins in all directions; corpses scattered in every street; some, where the combat had been fiercest, lay in heaps, many blackened and charred by the burning houses near which they had fallen. Fighting had taken place in several other churches besides the Basilica of Sicininus, and blood stained their pavements; the bodies of many of the dead still lay where they had fallen. Prudentius proposed going on to the Basilica of Sicininus, where the fiercest struggle had taken place. On entering the church they started back with horror. Before them lay, with distorted countenances and in attitudes showing the ferocity with which they had fought, scattered throughout every part of the building, the corpses of the slain. They were chiefly those of the defeated party, although several of their opponents had of course fallen. On counting them, they were found to number one hundred and thirty-seven. The prefect had issued orders for the interment of the dead. It had been a question whether they should receive Christian burial, or be deposited together in one of the catacombs outside the walls. But Damasus insisted that the followers of Ursinus only should be thus buried,—“he having arranged,” he said, “a fitting funeral for those who had fallen as martyrs for the truth.”

Prudentius, when he met the prefect, inquired whether he intended to bring Damasus and his followers to account for the tumult.

“It is more than I dare do!” he answered. “Were I to make the attempt, it would probably cause another outbreak, with equally disastrous results. Supported by the emperor, your Christian bishop has more power than I have, and I must allow him full licence to promote, as he thinks best, what he calls the interests of religion. I leave you to judge, however, whether the late events are calculated to recommend it to the minds of the heathen. The Romans may yet rue the day they consented to be ruled by their bishops.”

Damasus was declared duly elected, by the presbyters and deacons, and the Christian population of Rome.

The following day he paraded through the streets in a handsome chariot, attended by a numerous body-guard richly clothed. In his hand he carried the Lituus,—the long used insignia of the augurs, since known as the bishop’s crozier,—proving that he considered himself to be their lineal successor.