Barbarian Makeover Pt. 2

Justinian, now emperor, decides he wants to restore the Roman Empire to its full territorial glory. Piece of cake, right? Good thing T&J have their favorite couple on-hand to help make it all happen. 

Transcript

T&J Episode 4 
Barbarian Makeover Part 2

Content Warning: A quick content warning: I swear a lot. And there are also various adult themes in this episode that are probably not suitable for younger listeners. So please be advised.   

Intro

The problem with Rome, the city, I mean, is that it just kept getting sacked.
The Goths were the first barbarians to do it in 410 AD, led by their King Alaric.
But then the Vandals came along and sacked it, too, about 50 years later. And apparently with a brutality so extreme, it’s where the term ‘vandalism’ comes from. 

Now, like the Goths, the Romans didn’t think much of the Vandals. Long before they lay siege upon their original capital, according to historian Douglas Boin:

‘Romans by and large scorned the Vandal people as an ‘effete, greedy, treasonous and sorrow-bringing race’ … they were said to bring destruction, arson, and ‘madness’ — rabies in Latin — a word that forever tarnished their popular perception.’

There was a system established to try and handle this barbarian encroachment already set by Emperor Theodosius — if you’ll recall back in Episode 2: One Iota, it was Emperor Theodosius who really cranked up the decrees that turned the empire into a Christian state — What Theodosius had done in terms of the Barbarian situation, was to allow, in certain parts of the empire, for whole tribes and nations to settle … in exchange for things like taxes and military service. It was a practice known as … hospitalitas. 

Proximity can, and all-too-often-does, breed resentment. Ironically, proximity also breeds, well, breeding. 

For example, Theodosius’ own Chief-of-Staff, the General Stilicho, was half-Vandal on his mother’s side. Stilicho would even go on to marry Theodosius’ favorite niece, Serena.

So even by the 300s AD, the settlement of barbarian peoples in these sort of ‘compromise zones’ Theodosius had created, resulted in things like: the Franks settling into northern Gaul, the Burgundians in Savoy which is a chunk where the France, Italy, and Switzerland of today meet; also, the Visigoths in southwestern Gaul, the Suevi and the Vandals in Spain, and the Alans, Ostrogoths and Huns in Pannonia, or what is now known as Hungary.

But over time, these pieces of peripheral Roman territory were, in essence, relinquished bit-by-incremental-bit. Once we arrive at the T&J era, hospitalitas had long been met with some pretty big ‘fuck you’s.’ 

Barbarian leadership, for example, would simply stop paying taxes or sending their men to fight. And Rome would be like, ‘Hey, so are you gonna send us your taxes or soldiers like we agreed?’ And the Barbarians would be like, ‘No. But you can come over here and try and make us.’ And then Rome was like ‘Uh, yeah, no. Nevermind. It’s fine.’ 

Only, it wasn’t fine.

The barbarians had become, at least in the Roman purview, houseguests who had turned into some pretty successful squatters, who then wouldn’t just stay put.

And in this sense, the Vandals were goddamn legends.   

The Vandals just picked up shipbuilding and sea navigation. And Under King Gaiseric in 435 AD, the Vandals sailed with their fleet from Spain to North Africa and just took it from the Romans. Like, this is ours now. And established a whole Vandal Kingdom there: including the Roman city of Carthage in what is today Tunisia, as well as the islands of Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica and the Balearics in Spain. It was quite the grab.   

Italy, too, had been … let go. Albeit under a different set of circumstances. The Pope was still based in the Vatican — which is not, a neighborhood, but a citadel — and wielded substantial ecumenical power. But certainly by the T&J era, the imperial palace on the Palatine Hill had long been empty of any Roman emperors to rule from it.

Alas, after the Vandals sacked it in 455, Rome was no longer where Romans were their Romannest. Because while he was alive, the real power in Italy lay in the hands of Princess Amalasuntha’s dad, the Ostrogothic King Theodoric, over there in Ravenna. And everybody knew it. 

Theodoric had been Rex of Italy since 498. In fact, it had been Emperor Anastasius, Uncle Justin’s predecessor, who’d made it official. 

So, we have these two territories — North Africa and Italy — that have fallen out of Roman hands and into Vandal and Ostrogothic ones. And Justinian, as part of his imperial legacy, decides he wants them back. He is going to restore the Roman Empire to its full territorial glory!

Piece of cake, right? Actually, one campaign would be, but the other, would be the sunk cost fallacy to end all sunk cost fallacies.

This episode we’re going to spend some quality time with the Vandals and the Goths and also the Persians, who, let’s not forget were the giant empire right next door. We are also going to meet the other couple of the T&J era, Procopius’s boss, the General Belisarius and his cougar wife Antonina, who also happened to be Theodora’s BFF.  

I’m Christine Laskowski and this is T&J, a limited podcast series devoted to sixth century Byzantium and the greatest recorded love story on earth – that between Empress Theodora and her husband, the Emperor Justinian. Welcome to Part 2 of Episode 3: ‘Barbarian Makeover.’  

Part I. The Himbo General, His MILF Wife, Her Bestie, and Persia 

One of the first things Theodora did in her role as empress was play matchmaker. 
You see, Theodora took advantage of the new law that allowed women, like her, from the lower classes to marry into the nobility; thereby creating an implacable web of loyalty — and surveillance — between family and old theater pals of hers with the lofty, wealthy patrician elite.

Theodora marries her daughter to a noble of some sort. She marries her older sister and theatrical star, Comito, to a younger, commander-on-the-rise named Sittas, who, soon-after the wedding to Theodora’s sister, leaves for new post as lead general in Armenia. But for now, my takeaway is that he and Comito were a mutually sexy and functional couple. If only because Procopius has zero gossip to share about them beyond their original set-up.

Something he does not do with another prominent couple Theodora strategically yentas.

Indeed, the most epic of all her matches — although not even the most controversial — was between Antonina, Theodora’s bestie from her theater days, and the General Belisarius, Procopius’ boss. Or at the time of his writing the Secret History in 550, his former boss.

Now, if the Secret History is to be believed … Antonina was an insatiable, conniving slut, and an atrocious mother to a brood of bastard children. Ten-years-ish older than her impressionable, malleable husband, Procopius presents Belisarius, a General no less, as starting off strong — a real fuckin’ man — only to devolve into the himbo-est of cuckolded himbos.

And Procopius is clearly still so raw about it. Here he is on the Secret History’s very first page:

Procopius: For those who have suffered misfortunes are wont to receive consolation from the thought that not upon themselves alone have cruel disasters fallen. For these reasons, then, I shall proceed to relate, first, all the base deeds committed by Belisarius; and afterwards I shall disclose all the base deeds committed by Justinian and Theodora.

I’ll admit, I have some sympathy for Procopius’ predicament.

I’m no stranger to bad bosses. And if you’ve ever worked for someone who only ever prioritizes the needs of their bosses, let’s call it ‘managing up’ … it sucks. But to add to that, let’s say that boss who-only-ever-manages-up was in a toxic, co-dependent relationship with their spouse who’s also in the office all the time. Well … that puts you pretty close to how Procopius felt traveling as Belisarius’ legal secretary for most of his career.

Because once Belisarius and Antonina are married in or around 528 A.D., or about a year after T&J ascend the throne, Antonina accompanies her husband on his military campaigns. A thing cloistered, Byzantine women just did not do. But for all the drama Procopius insists she caused, Antonina is clearly an asset to her husband. I’d also bet many thousands of gold pounds that Theodora was probably like, ‘Go with him, and tell me everything.’

Strategic matchmaking? Classic Theodora move.
Giving capable nobodys  huge promotions? Now that, that was a classic Justinian move.

Because Justinian possessed an almost preternatural eye for talent. Once spotted, Justinian would elevate that talent to positions  wildly beyond what their resumés suggested they could do. And in return, Justinian got a lifetime of loyalty out of them.

Now, this ‘career grooming-entrenchment’ as I’m gonna call it, began for Belisarius about two years after he marries Antonina; when Justinian appoints  him as the lead general of Rome’s forces against Persia.

And Persia was an empire. And its relationship to Rome largely entailed skirmishes along the border that would occasionally boil over into wars.

Justinian, his eyes hungrily askance on western lands, well, he didn’t want war with Persia. He wanted peace so he could focus on taking back North Africa and Italy.

Only, his newly minted Persian counterpart, King Khusro, was like, ‘Oh, do you now?’ 

Considered by some to be one the greatest kings of the Persian Sassanid dynasty, King Khusro was his dad King Kavadh’s third son.

In what is a sort of game of Sassanid Dynasty succession Goldilocks, the first son was suspected of being sympathetic to a group called the Mazdakites, which have been described by Byzantine historian Robert Browning as preaching: 

‘A utopian and primitivist communism.’

Which sounds dope.

King Kavadh’s second son had apparently lost an eye? Which perhaps barred him from power? And well, that’s how we get Khusro and I’m not mad.  Because Khusro … Khusro’s this super-extra, attention-seeking playboy. And, truly, the perfect foil.

And Khusro’s dad, being smart, also made sure he appointed Khusro as his successor before he died. Of a stroke, which occurred in September of 532. 

Now, I’m definitely skipping ahead because Justinian became the sole emperor of Rome in 527 and Khusro of Persia in 532. That’s five years. And a lot happened in those five years! I’m going to go over it in great detail, I swear.

What I’m keen on emphasizing here is that the Persia of the T&J era that we care about, which is when T&J were alone on the Roman throne, their counterpart in Persia was Khusro.

And their dynamic would largely consist of Justinian having to put out Khusro’s fires with money. Lots and lots of money. Because Khusro knew Justinian’s priorities were elsewhere, and he absolutely used that to his advantage to turn his Roman Empire neighbor into his cash cow.

Beginning in 532, when Justinian goes, ‘Yo Khusro, I’ll give you 11,000 gold pounds for eternal peace. What do you say to that? And then Khusro’s like, ‘Deal.’

Only, when Khusro said ‘eternal’ he really just meant ‘eight’ … years. And when Khusro shows up again in the year 540. Boy oh boy does he show. Up.   

So let’s leave Khusro and Persia there for now, and return to Belisarius in the years leading up to the Treaty of Eternal Peace when he weds Theodora’s thirty-something theater bestie, Antonina. And Antonina brings to this marriage two, possibly three, children. One of whom was a son named Photius, who proves to be exactly as annoying as a guy named Photius sounds like he would be.

Although, Procopius has a lot of sympathy for Photius. Which has a lot to do with the family’s expansion about five years later, when Belisarius and Antonina welcome another son into the family unit by route of the Roman rite of adoption. His name? was Theodosius. And pretty soon thereafter, the early-twenty-something. Theodosius and Antonina would be fucking. An affair that began, according to The Secret History, on their way to war. 

Procopius: And straightaway she fell extraordinarily in love with [Theodosius] in the course of this voyage, and having become insatiate in her passion, she shook off both fear and respect for everything both divine and human and had intercourse with him, at first in secret, but finally even in the presence of servants of both sexes …

Mmmm hmmm. That’s right. I’m going to be serving up some hot Byzantine tea, but before we get to that, we need to take a brief, logistical detour.


Part II. Biscuits and Logistics

 The funny thing about organizing a naval attack in those days was how hard it was – and how lucky you had to be – to maintain the element of surprise. Even with ideal winds and weather, a giant fleet making its way across the Mediterranean — from Constantinople to the North African coast — was a tad hard to conceal.

Preventing word of your arrival spreading to your Vandal enemies so they could prepare before you got there … that was tough.

And what made it even more tough, irrespective of having your wife, your good-looking adopted son, and your legal secretary there with you, was having a Finance Minister cost-cut the bejesus out of your campaign to the point that you almost don’t even make it past the Dardanelles.

If that sounded mighty specific, that is because that’s exactly what happened to Belisarius. And the Finance Minister who almost did him in was a man named John, John the Cappadocian. 

Plucked from obscurity by Justinian and launched into the upper echelons of power, John the Cappadocian’s career-grooming entrenchment began as a clerk. He was apparently whiling away in the office of a Cappadocian military commander in what is today central Turkey when he was transferred to Constantinople and then put on the fast track.

Yet, what makes John the Cappadocian truly different in my opinion— is that he is the one crack in T&J’s veneer as a united front. To me, it’s pretty clear that Theodora personally despised the shit out of John the Cappadoccian well beyond any usefulness as their money savvy scapegoat, and Justinian, he found John the Cappadocian far too useful as their money savvy scapegoat to stop engineering ways to bring him back into the fold.

According to Procopius, not in the Secret History, but, rather, in Wars, John the Cappadocian was very vocal in his opposition to  starting a war with Vandals. Probably for budgetary reasons. But then a bishop chimes in, saying God was on their side, and Justinian was like, ‘Great. I’m going to start preparing a fleet.’

Which is how, in the summer of 533 — Belisarius and his force of 10,000 infantry, 5,000 cavalry and Barbarian mercenaries set sail for North Africa. 

The fleet gets as far as the Dardanelles when the first in a series of unfortunate incidents befall them.

You see, rather than baking the biscuits twice, in ovens, as was apparently standard prep for sea expeditions. John the Cappadocian was like, ‘Ovens? Who needs ovens? We’ve got taxpayer funded public bath houses with heating systems. We’ll just throw the dough on top of those. Save us a bunch of money. Oh, and no need to bake ‘em twice. Once is plenty.’

Plenty for dysentery, as Belisarius’ men soon learned. Because those bathhouse biscuits got moldy and approximately 500 of Belisarus’ men died from eating them.

The second near-catastrophe, I’m gonna call this one, ‘The Algae Incident.’ So much fun, right? And the war hasn’t even started. They are just on the way.

In another bad turn, the tanks holding the drinking water began to smell … because they were contaminated with algae. But thanks to Antonina’s quick thinking, she has them filter the water as best they can and transferred into individual glass bottles; she then orders them stored in a dark place to prevent any further algae growth, and then stuffs them into sand to prevent the glass from breaking. And voilà! It works! They have enough potable water to reach Sicily, where they take a very needed break, courtesy of an agreement with the Gothic government of Italy.

And the signposting I would like to do at this moment with respect to the Goth’s strategy with the Romans is, like a well-played game of Catan, you just do not trade resources with the point leader!

Because in Sicily, Belisarius receives an important piece of intel after Procopius bumps into an old buddy of his and is like, ‘Holy shit, dude. How are you? Imagine, two randos from Caesarea running into each other in Syracuse, of all places!’ And his buddy’s like, ‘Yeah man, business is crazy. One of my guys, he just arrived the other day from Carthage!’ And Procopius is like, ‘No way! I also just arrived the other day with this giant Roman fleet, and we’re on our way to sack Carthage!’ And his buddy’s like, ‘No kidding! Well, that ought to be easy. They have no idea you’re coming.’

The Vandal King Gelimer was not only clueless about their impending attack on his capital, he was also not there. He was hanging out at his country estate.   

And because Gelimer had been successfully suckered into a diversion Justinian engineered ahead of time, Gelimer’s brother wasn’t there either. Tzazon was off in Sardinia quashing a rebellion.

So, Belisarius gives the order to set sail for Africa, and touches shore approximately 260 kilometers, or 160 miles, to the south of the very vulnerable Vandal capital. 

It’s far from over, but things are finally looking good. Really good. For Belisarius, that is. 

You know the saying, how you get ‘em is how you lose ‘em? I know it’s not quite the analogy because it’s about cheating, but that’s how I feel about the Vandals at this juncture; they got North Africa in a sneak attack, and they’ll lose North Africa in a sneak attack. One that would deliver the final blow to their existence as a people.  

Part III. Taking Down the Vandals 

To picture an ordinary Vandal, or say, your average North African Vandal family on the eve of their decimation, one must first render them tall and blonde — and dress them in silks. Something Procopius describes in Wars as justification for their being a decadent people. Although their origins were north of the Danube, the Vandals had come a long way. Literally. And Africa was home now. For 100 years, the system of apartheid they’d established meant the Vandals were the dominant, land-owning minority. 

So imagine a tall, blonde silk-adorned Vandal family of four eating their morning meal, no doubt featuring bread made of grain grown and milled on their very own, massive estate. One that a not-so-distant ancestor had taken from a noble Roman family. This Vandal family’s dining needs are met by a household full of enslaved Roman, barbarian and Berber servants. All is calm on this day, the weather … perfect. Tunisia was more temperate in the ancient world than it is today, so temperatures would have been in the upper 70s in September. Or in the mid-twenties in Celsius.

Then, a message arrives — news of the Roman army’s landing on the coast, not much more than an hour’s ride by horse. For the enslaved Roman servants, there’s probably hope for deliverance. For the Vandal family, and their friends and neighbors, their level of panic likely rests on how much intel they have about King Gelimer’s whereabouts and his brother, the General Tzazon’s army, fighting in Sardinia. The reason I say they might not have panicked is because this was not the first time the Romans  had come to recapture it and that effort had come to absolutely nothing. 

You see, Emperor Zeno had spent over 40,000 gold pounds on his attempt to recapture North Africa from the Vandals in 468.

After Zeno’s botched conquest, time passed, and relations between the Vandals and the Romans began to improve. Such that the Vandal King Hilderic, well, he, like the Gothic Princess Amalasuntha, was a Romanized barbarian, albeit one with noble Roman blood coursing through his Vandal veins! Hilderic’s grandfather was none other than the western Roman emperor, Valentinian III. 

So while we can’t definitively say this explains Hilderic’s own Roman sympathies. What we can definitively say is that some of the other Vandals really did not like the expression of those sympathies. 

For one, Hilderic ended the persecution of Roman Nicene Christians, or Roman Catholics, which had been a key component of the Vandal system of apartheid since Day 1.  Remember, the Vandals were Arian Christians — Team Iota. 

And the Vandals, top dog in North Africa, were none-too-tolerant of non-Arian practitioners. In an extreme example, the inhabitants of one town had all their tongues cut out by a Vandal official for refusing to convert.

King Hilderic’s changes to the status quo got him deposed after just seven years and replaced with his cousin Gelimer.

And cousin Gelimer throws the elderly Hilderic into prison, and the imprisoned Hilderic begins sending secret messages off to Justinian, the one person he thought could help him and … Ehhh.

Another thing about Justinian is that if you were already in prison, coming to your rescue, he is not. Something I wish Amalasuntha could have understood and maybe acted upon sooner.

When Gelimer learns of Belisarius and his troop’s arrival, the ultimate Roman betrayal, he orders Hilderic’s execution. 

Now, to be completely honest, I don’t really care about the military minutiae of the Vandalic War. I’d actually rather eat John the Cappadoccian’s moldy biscuits dunked in algae water.  But I will recount what I consider to be the war’s top three highlights.     

First highlight. Antonina leading troops on her own like a boss B, bringing up the infantry so the whole army could lay siege to Carthage.

Second highlight. They arrive in Carthage and receive a feast fit for a king. Although not on purpose. The Roman army makes such good time, Gelimer, now in town, was forced to bolt from the palace before he could even eat. Belisarius, Antonina, Theodosius and maybe even our dear Procopius, feasted on the abandoned banquet of the Vandal king now on the run.

Third and final highlight. Gelimer hightails it to the mountains, finding refuge with the local Berbers. Only, his location was not a secret for very long, and the Romans soon had his hideout surrounded.

In the hilarious, albeit probably apocryphal, embellished coda to Gelimer’s getaway story is that he was so desperate, and so broken, up there on the mountain that he wrote a poem, in Latin, and sent it down. Only, the poem was really an abbreviated shopping list.

What did Gelimer want? Gelimer requested a lyre to accompany his poem of tristesse with proper music, he asked for a sponge to wipe away his tears, and lastly, he asked for bread, something he’d been deprived of since he first ascended that godforsaken mountain.

Now, Gelimer was either of heartier stock than the Romans gave him credit for, or managed to get treats and necessities up the mountain somehow. Either way, Gelimer lasted for another full year there, surrendering, finally, in March of 534. 

The war was over. And so, too, was the Vandal’s African Kingdom. Dead at 105. 

What was not over, and really, still heating up, were  Antonina and her adopted son, Theodosius. Who had spent the winter in Carthage keeping each other warm, and according to the  Secret History, recklessly, even obnoxiously so.   

But before we get into the drama surrounding Antonina and Theodosius’ affair, we are gonna take a short break. It’s a song from 1903 by Dan W. Quinn titled ”Remorse.”   

 
Instrumental Break: R-E-M-O-R-S-E (1903)   

Part IV. That Good D

Before our break, I’d mentioned how things between Antonina and her adopted son Theodosius were really heating up during that winter in Carthage. And well, here's what Procopius had to say about it:

Procopius: On one occasion Belisarius caught them in the very act in Carthage, yet he willingly allowed himself to be deceived by his wife. For though he found them both in an underground chamber and was transported with rage, she, without either playing the coward or attempting to conceal the deed, remarked: 

Antonina: ‘I came down here in order to hide with the aid of the boy the most valuable of our booty, so that it may not get to the knowledge of the Emperor.’

Procopius: Now she said this as a mere pretext, but he, appearing to be satisfied, dropped the matter, though he could see that the belt which supported the drawers of Theodosius, covering his private parts, had been loosened. For under compulsion of love for the woman, he would have it that the testimony of his own eyes was absolutely untrustworthy. 

I mean … the faint notes of perfume and sweat; the abstract patterns embossed onto Antonina’s back from being pressed hard against the mounds of looted gold.   Feel bad for Belisarius all you want, but, guys, history just so rarely affords us such a clear account of a quickie in a closet. Bless. 

Antonina and Theodosius’ affair goes on  for years … and becomes a huge scandal. A huge scandal apparently known to all … except for … the General Belisarius.

Procopius: She enjoyed to the full both the attentions of her lover and the simplicity of her husband.   

Damn, Procopius. Got any aloe for that burn?

Antonina’s time was up, though, when an enslaved girl named Macedonia decides to tell Belisarius everything during a layover in Syracuse. She even brings him two eyewitnesses: enslaved boys who’d attended Antonina in her bedchamber. But Macedonia knows what she’s up against and so she makes Belisarius swear — swear! — that he would not, under any circumstances, tell his wife that it was she who told.

And what does Belisarius go and do? He tells his fucking wife.   

Procopius: For she had the ways of a scorpion and concealed her wrath in darkness. So not long afterwards, using either magic or beguilement, persuaded her husband that the accusation of this girl was unsound, and he without delay recalled Theodosius and agreed to hand over Macedonia and the boys to the woman. And they say that she first cut out all their tongues, and then chopped them up bit by bit, threw the pieces into sacks, and then without ado, cast them into the sea.

Oooh. Fucking horrible. What follows, according to Procopius, is Antonina’s whiny, incel-y, biological son Photius forcing his brother mother-lover, Theodosius, either into hiding, or into prisons, maybe out of jealousy? Maybe to avenge his cuckolded stepdad? Either way, Antonina really does not appreciate these frequent interferences from her biological son, and it all continues to escalate until finally, the empress herself is like, ‘Enough.’

Theodora tracks Theodosius down and brings him to Constantinople.

And the following ‘quote’ Procopius attributes verbatim to Theodora implies a side to her that, I, for one, deeply admire. Which is going to great lengths to get your best friend that good D.
 
Theodora: ‘O dearest Patricician, yesterday a pearl fell into my hands, such as no man ever saw. If you wish, I should not begrudge you the sight of this, nay, I shall show it to you.’

Theodora brings Theodosius out. And he and Antonina presumably rush at each other and begin going at it.

If this bizarre and sort of incestuous family drama sounds fucking exhausting, well, I concur. No wonder they were all worn down into little nubs as people. 

If, again, Procopius’ account is to be entirely believed, it’s Theodosius I really feel sorry for, and he pretty soon dies of dysentery.

Photius? He’s eventually thrown into one of Theodora’s infamous oubliettes for three years and on his third try manages to successfully escape to Jerusalem. Where I hope he found a good therapist.

As for Belisarius and Antonina, this is not the last we’re going to hear from them. However, this victory against the Vandals coincides with all of this interpersonal drama and it marks a turning point in both Belisarius’s personal and professional life.

According to the Secret History, Belisarius may have won the war, but he’s shamefully pussywhipped by a woman Procopius clearly finds both morally and physically repulsive. Equally indemnifying … Because of her Belisarius breaks his oaths to protect those whose safety and care he’s been entrusted with: his stepson, his adopted son, and the poor enslaved girl, Macedonia and the two boys. For Procopius, Belisarius is basically, oathbreaker scum: 

Procopius: And so, in all his undertakings thereafter, he naturally found the power of God hostile.

Part V. Back to Amalasuntha and the Goths 

Winning back Italy from the Goths was simply never going to look like winning Africa back from the Vandals. The Goths were Italy’s legitimate rulers, and what’s more, they were really good at ruling it.

As I mentioned earlier in the episode, Amalasuntha’s father, King Theodoric, ruled Italy independently. That was the arrangement with Constantinople. 

The Ostrogoths didn’t rule Italy because they’d conquered it. Italy had been a gift, or more accurately, a reward, from Emperor Zeno to King Theodoric after he ousted a rogue Roman warlord who’d run amok with the place. 

King Theodoric’s reign inaugurated a Gothic golden age. The Ostrogoths or ‘East Goths,’ of Italy and the Visigoths or the ‘West Goths,’ of southern Gaul and Spain … They actually united their kingdoms in such a way that, in the sixth century, a Goth could sail down the Tiber River, head to the Atlantic Ocean, and still be in this new ‘Gothia.’

The Ostrogoths, In addition to being blonde and Arian — Christian, that is — were also the minority in Italy. Unlike the Vandals, however, the Ostrogoths left the Catholic believers pretty much alone, which did a lot to endear them to the locals.   

The pope was left to do his thing in Rome, which was fine, because Theodoric’s palace was in the Ostrogothic capital he established along the coast of the Adriatic Sea in 489 in the city of Ravenna.

Now, I have been to Ravenna, and I gotta say, it’s a one day town. 

When I went two years ago, my goal was to see the mosaics of Justinian and Theodora inside the Basilica of San Vitale, which I did, and I will talk about in a future episode. But I was equally as excited about seeing Arian art and vestiges of Gothic rule. 

Only what I got was Gothic erasure! 

There was a single Arian baptistry that managed to squeak through. And the placard outside it when I got there said:

Arian Baptistry Placard: ‘No other baptistry dedicated to the Arian worship has reached us from the late antiquity, where the mosaic decorations of the building express the differences with the Orthodox faith.’ 

Admittedly, the differences in Arian religious aesthetics were lost on me, although one thing I did notice is that the Jesus in the Arian baptistry was looking a whole lot mushier in the bod than Catholics’,  who preferred their Jesus ripped. 

Anyway, the small, octagonal brick baptistry survived through sheer luck. Theodoric’s former palace was decrepit and closed; his mausoleum in the Gothic cemetery was about a 20 minute walk outside the old city walls, and when I got there I found out it was … also closed.

So, my advice, when you spend your one day in Ravenna, be sure to go on a day when the three remaining Gothic things are open.

Amalasuntha: Harmony exists not only between those who are in each others’ presence; indeed, those joined together in the charity of the spirit have an even greater respect for each other. For this reason, rendering to the Augusta the affection of a reverent greeting, I hope that when our legates return … you will make us rejoice in your safety.

As I mentioned at the top of the previous episode, that is, Part 1 of Barbarian Makeover, Princess Amalsuntha had begun writing letters of desperation to Justinian from Ravenna after she’d been deposed by the uber-patriarchal Gothic nobility, who also did not like her liking Rome so much. And while none of those letters, or the language in them, survive, what you just heard was an excerpt from one that did.   

Written sometime during the early 530s, some believe the letter may have been Amalasuntha congratulating Theodora on a pregnancy. One, we know, of course, did not make it to term because T&J never had any children together. 

But overall, Amalasuntha’s extant epistolary catalog reveals a tough, yet sensitive; diplomatic, yet literary, individual … who, in my opinion, didn’t deserve the ending she got.

In 532, Amalasuntha was about thirty years old. 532 would have been the same year the Treaty of Eternal Peace with King Khusro was signed and paid for, and just a year before Belisarius’ attack on the Vandals. Now, it must be noted that Amalasuntha was reported to be a woman of great beauty and charm; cultivated, sophisticated. Educated and rich. Her entire personal fortune amounted to about 40,000 gold pounds, and she loaded it all onto a getaway ship that would have brought her to a palace in Albania Justinian had arranged, where she could hang tight, until he could restore her back to power.

But at the last minute, Amalasuntha changes her mind. She stays put in Ravenna, where her circumstances would only go from bad to worse.

In 534, her son Athalaric dies, although it’s unclear how. And one month later, in an act of desperation and appeasement, Amalasuntha marries her dickhead cousin, Theodahad. Here’s an excerpt from her letter to the Romans announcing it: 

Amalasuntha: Rejoice, Fathers of the Senate, and commend to the heavenly powers what we have accomplished … With God’s help, therefore, we have unbarred the imperial residence to an illustrious man of our family, who, descended from the race of the Amals, has a royal worthiness in his actions. He is patient in adversity, restrained in his prosperity, and possesses what is the most difficult kind of control — a self-control of long-standing … His private life, which has amassed such an abundance of gifts, such a wealth of feasts, that in the light of his former activity he will be seen to require nothing further in conducting the realm. 

Oof. What an excruciating word salad of non-compliments … The best she can muster is that Theodahad’s already lived such an extravagant life, guys, that, you Romans, you don’t need to stress about him wanting anything that’s yours. But the marriage isn’t enough to prevent another coup against her. Amalasuntha is taken to an island in Lake Bolsena where she is held prisoner.

And again, if you were already in prison, coming to rescue you, Justinian was not.

Intriguingly, however, according to Procopius’ account in Wars, the Roman ambassador to the Goths at the time, a man named Peter the Patrician, received two conflicting messages from T&J about this. Justinian’s message to Peter was like, ‘Tell the Goths that they had better restore Amalasuntha to power ASAP, otherwise I’m going to have no choice but to intervene in Italy.’

While Theodora’s message to Peter was like, ‘Tell the Goths they can kill her for all I care. My husband won’t do anything.’

Can you imagine having T&J as your bosses? Like, what in the power couple mind-fuckery is that?

It’s doubtful that Theodora’s message would have ever reached Peter, the Ambassador, without Justinian knowing about it, which means he sanctioned its contents, which means … Only that not long after, in 534, Amalasuntha was strangled to death in her island prison. 

Conveniently, when news of Amalasuntha’s murder reaches Justinian, he’s like, ‘Well, I told them to restore her back to power. (Sigh) Now I guess I’m going to have to take back Italy.’ 

So he orders Mundus, the Master of Soldiers in Illyricum to invade what is now Croatia — and for Belisarius to sail with his men back to Sicily. Post-haste.  

The Gothic War had begun.

Part VI. The Last Triumph

However, the Gothic War would not kick off until 535, and I need to wrap up the story of Vandalic War, the year prior.

Upon recalling his army, Justinian had given Belisarius a choice: he could return to Constantinople with Gelimer as his trophy-captive, or he could remain in Africa as an administrator. Belisarius? He opts for the former.

The person tasked with the latter was a eunuch. Solomon was his name and he was both the governor and the general of North Africa. It was an unusual concentration of powers for anyone at the time, but it was practically unheard of for a eunuch. 

Convention, however, never prevented Justinian from assigning whomever he thought would be the best fit; and Solomon was not the only eunuch Justinian would make a general. There was another eunuch who would go on to be one of the badassest generals in Byzantine history. Maybe even Roman history! I’ll talk about him later, don’t worry.

Belisarius returns to Constantinople victorious, and a very rich man. He gets to keep some of that very sweet Vandal loot; and he also gets to take part in a Roman triumph — woohoo! — the likes of which hadn’t been organized since Rome was where Romans were their Romannest. Or to put a date on it, 303 AD for Emperors Diocletian and Maximian after their victories in Africa and Britain. 

A Roman triumph was an overt throwback to the glory days, glory which had been restored — or was in the process of being restored — by Justinian.   

Looking back, though, the triumph is bittersweet. The very first ever held in Constantinople and also the very last Roman triumph ever.

But on this day, the day of his triumph, Belisarius exits his home on foot and leads his men past throngs of cheering people all the way to the Hippodrome, where T&J await his and Gelimer’s arrival.

Gelimer, apparently tall and blonde and handsome, was dressed in royal purple, and was a feature of the procession as well. Several wagons full of Vandal booty trailed behind him. In addition to Vandal captives, or prisoners-of-war, who would soon become Roman slaves.

When Belisarius and Gelimer finally reach the imperial VIP box, known as the kathisma, which is fun because it has this special corridor that connects it directly to the palace. In a very cinematic piece of choreography intended to reinforce who was large and in charge — HBO, I’ve got a pilot script, call me! — Gelimer is stripped of his purple garment and forced to prostrate himself on the ground before the emperor and empress.

And in this moment, Gelimer is alleged to have murmured:

Gelimer: Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

Which seems like a hard thing to hear, with his face pressed to the ground and the Hippodrome thundering with the cheers of thousands … but real or embellished, Gelimer must’ve been a shell of a human at this point.

His people are devastated, dissipated, enslaved and gone. Sure, he’s given some estates in central Turkey to live out the rest of his days. But that couldn’t have felt good …

But you know who did feel good? Like, top-of-the-world good? T&J. Easy to feel on top of the world when you’re riding high on a whole new chunk of it. 

T&J may have also by this point known of Amalasuntha’s murder. It’s also possible they were hatching plans to invade Italy.   

But in this moment, Theodora could look down and know she’d been on that very floor as a child begging the Greens to give her stepdad that bear trainer job. Justinian could also look around and remember attending the races as a Thracian hick, who couldn’t even speak Greek, yet …

And just two years prior — 2 years! — there had been a bloody uprising. One that had not only left the Hippodrome covered in dead bodies, but whole swaths of the city, and an important old church, had been destroyed. It was from this very spot that T&J had come so close to losing everything. What had brought them to the brink, and what and whom had saved their purple-clad asses? I suggest you stay tuned.  

Outro/Wrap

Research, scripting, narration, and editing for this episode were all done by me, Christine Laskowski.

Scoring and musical arrangements for T&J were also written and performed by me in collaboration with the incandescent Jack Butler. The T&J logo was designed by Meredith Montgomery.

Procopius of Caesarea was voiced by Michael de la Bedoyere. Antonina was voiced by Andrea Augustin, the Empress Theodora by Laurel Kratochvila and Gelimer by Roman Kratochvila. The Arian Baptistry Placard in Ravenna was voiced by Andrea Ramirez and Amalasuntha by Caitlin Boulter.

Special thanks to David Parnell for his notes and feedback. Additional sources for this episode are available in the show notes.

If you liked what you heard, spread the word and leave a nice note in the review section wherever you’re getting your podcasts. Follow and donate on Patreon – that’s patreon.com/tandjpodcast. It’ll really help me keep the show going and give you access to all upcoming T&J episodes in addition to other objectively delectable perks.

Now, enjoy the outro because I wrote it just for you.

Ostrogothic Italy
and Visigothic Gaul
The Vandals took North Africa
And the Franks beat out them all … 
Cuz the Lombards would take Italy
And the Franks a lot of Gaul
And like a rocket there’d come a Prophet
Not to mention the Ottomans  

There’s a whole lot going on
North of the Danube
And let us not forget West of the Rhine
From end-to-end it’s Black
Both sea and forest
Trading people, amber, furs,
and precious hides  

Ostrogothic Italy
and Visigothic Gaul
The Vandals took North Africa
And the Franks beat out them all … 
Cuz the Lombards would take Italy
And the Franks a lot of Gaul
And like a rocket there’d come a Prophet
Not to mention the Ottomans  

The Abkhazi, the Alemmani
Shout out to the Alans
The Antae, Avars, Bulgars,
And the Burgundians in France
The Dacians, Franks, the Gepids
And let’s not forget the Herules
The Huns and their descendants
who Byzantine teens thought looked super cool
The Longobards and the Lombards
The Sabiri, Sclavini, the Slavs
The Suevi and the Vandals
And the motherfucking Goths  

There’s a whole lot going on
North of the Danube
There’s a whole lot going on
North of the Danube …


Sources

Boin, Douglas. Alaric the Goth: An Outsider’s History of the Fall of Rome. W.W. Norton & Company, 2020.
Browning, Robert. Justinian & Theodora. Thames and Hudson, 1971.
Evans, James Allan. Power Game in Byzantium: Antonina and the Empress Theodora. Continuum, 2011.
Evans, James Allan. The Empress Theodora: Partner of Justinian. University of Texas Press, 2002.
Herrin, Judith. Byzantium: The Surprising Life of a Medieval Empire. Penguin Random House, 2007.
Moorhead, John. Justinian. Longman, 1994.
Parnell, David. @byzantineprof Twitter thread. February 14, 2023.
Parnell, David. “T&J.” Emails received by Christine Laskowski. 26 April and 1 May, 2023.
Procopius. The Anecdota or Secret History. Translated by H.B. Dewing, Harvard University Press, 1935.

Non-Original Music 
(Courtesy of Internet Archive, in order of appearance)

 Harry, Rowe and Shelley. Venetian Instrumental Orchestra. “Love’s Sorrow.” Edison, 1914.
Tierney. Isham Jones Rainbo Orchestra. “Alice Blue Gown.” Brunswick, 1920.
Shannon, T.F. Naval Instrumental Band. “A Slippery Place.” Columbia, 1918.
Münch, Fritz. Kirchenchor Wilhelmer Kirche Strasburg. “Dies Irae.” Odeon, 1923. Tryner, T. Albrecht Instrumental. “Slav Maiden’s Song.” Victor, 1922.
Hamm, J. Val. Columbia Instrumental Quartette. “Dialogue for Four.” Columbia, 1915.
Gold-Reynolds. Lou Gold & His Orchestra. “Underneath the Moon.” Cameo, 1922.
Wallace; Weeks. Sensation Instrumental Trio. “Hindustan.” Aeolian Vocalion, 1919.
Senna. Eddie Kuhn & His Orchestra. “Persia.” Pathé Freres,1920.
Wheeler; Walsh; Young. Orlando’s Orchestra. Edison, “Persia.” 1921.
Mendelsson. “Wedding March.” Standard, 1902.
Johnson; Cirina; Gibson, Joseph. White Way Novelty Orchestra. “Down Sicily Way.” Actuelle, 1920.
Jacobs, Jacob and Lillian I. “War Tax.” Victor, 1920.
Henlere, Herschel. Green Bros. Novelty Band. “Kismet.” Edison, 1920.
“The Coming of the Year – Church Chimes.” Victor, 1911.
Monaco; Brooks. Paul Biese Trio. “In Sweet September.” Columbia, 1920.
Gayler, Robert. “Christmas Eve.” Edison, 1916.
Ferera’s Hawaiian Instrumental Quartet. “Ua Like – Noa Like.” Columbia, 1922.
Sicilian Instrumental Quartette. “Josephine by the Sea.” Columbia, 1918.
Strauss. American Symphoony. “Kiss Waltz – Merry War.” Edison, 1913.
Godard; Sorlin, Victor. "Berceuse." Victor, 1908.
Saint-Saens. Prince’s Orchestra. “Dance Macabre.” Columbia, 1915.
Moor, Weyert, A. “Through the Air.” Edison, 1917.
Quinn, Dan W. “R-E-M-O-R-S-E.” Monarch, 1903.
Taylor Trio. “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes.” Columbia, 1916.
Shavers. John Kirby and his Orchestra. “Effervescent Blues.” Okeh, 1922.
Sicilian Instrumental Quartette. “Love’s Dream.” Columbia, 1918.
Lacombe. Prince’s Orchestra. “Spring Morning Serenade.” Columbia, 1915.
Wolf-Ferrari; Pitt, Percy. Imperial Philharmonic Orchestra. “The Jewels of the Madonna.” The Gramophone Co., 1912.
Wyman; Taylor Trio. “Woodland Echoes.” Connorized, 1922.
Massenet; Damois, Maurice. “Elegie.” Aeolian Vocalion, 1920.
Pietro; Hall, John T. “Wedding of the Winds.” Victor, 1915.
Himmelreich, Ferdinand; Moore, Thomas. “Last Rose of Summer.” Victor, 1916.
Lange. Andrews Instrumental Trio. “Symphonola.” Perfect, 1922.
Myers, J.W. “Just Before the Battle, Mother.” Oxford, 1904.
Mozart. Landowska, Wanda. “Turkish March.” Victrola, 1923.
Mendelssohn. Smith, M. Columbia Symphony Orchestra. “Consolation.” Columbia, 1916.

* Under the Music Modernization Act, all recordings published prior to 1923 will enter the public domain and will be free to use and reuse. 

Non-Original Natural Sounds 

 ‘Only in Lapland’ Audio Library