Читать книгу A Struggle for Rome, Vol. III - Felix Dahn - Страница 9

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A few days after the death of Mataswintha and the departure of Prince Germanus, who was deeply shocked by the sad event, a message came from Castra Nova, which rendered necessary the march of Byzantine troops from Ravenna.

Hildebad had been informed, by fugitive Goths, who had made their way in disguise through the lines of the besiegers, of the treacherous imprisonment of the King.

On hearing the news, he sent word to Cethegus and Belisarius, through some prisoners whom he released, that he challenged them, either together or singly, to mortal combat, "if they had a drop of courage in their veins, or a trace of honour in their souls."

"He thinks that Belisarius is still in the country, and does not seem to fear him greatly," said Bessas.

"This might be a means," said Cethegus cunningly, of ruining the turbulent fellow. "But, certainly, it needs great courage—such courage as Belisarius possesses."

"You know that I do not yield to him a jot in that," answered Bessas.

"Good," said Cethegus. "Then follow me to my house. I will show you how to destroy this giant. You shall succeed where Belisarius failed." But he said to himself, "Bessas is indeed a tolerably bad commander; but Demetrius is still worse, and therefore easier to lead. And I owe Bessas a grudge for that affair of the Tiburtinian Gate at Rome."

The Prefect had not without reason feared that the almost extinguished resistance of the Goths would be renewed on hearing of the treason practised on their King.

No exact report had yet reached old Hildebrand at Verona, Totila at Tarvisium, or Teja at Ticinum.

They had only heard that Ravenna had fallen, and that the King was imprisoned.

Vague rumours of treachery accompanied this report, and the friends of the King, in their pain and anger, were persuaded that the fall of the strong fortress and of the brave King had not been effected by honest means.

Instead of discouraging them, this misfortune only increased the strength of their resistance.

They weakened their besiegers by repeated and successful sallies.

And the enemy felt almost constrained to raise the siege, for already signs of an important change of circumstance crowded upon them from all sides.

This change was, in fact, a rapidly progressing reversion of feeling in the Italian population, at least of the middle classes: the merchants and artisans of the towns; the peasants and farmers of the country.

The Italians had everywhere greeted the Byzantines as liberators.

But after a short period their exultation died away.

Whole troops of officials followed Belisarius from Byzantium, sent by Justinian to reap without delay the fruits of the war, and to fill the ever-empty treasury of the East with the riches of Italy.

In the midst of all the suffering caused by the war, these zealous officials began their work.

As soon as Belisarius had occupied a town, his treasurer summoned all free citizens to the Curia or to the Forum; ordered them to divide themselves into six classes according to their wealth, and then called upon each class to value the property of the class above it.

According to this valuation, the imperial officials then laid the highest possible tax upon each class.

And, as these officials were almost necessitated, because of the retention and curtailment of their never punctually paid salaries, to think of filling their own pockets as well as the Emperor's treasury, the oppression they put in practice became intolerable.

They were not content with the high rates which the Emperor required to be paid in advance for three years; the special tax laid upon every liberated town of Italy as a "gratitude tax"—besides the large contributions and requisitions which Belisarius and his generals were obliged to demand for the use of the army—for neither gold nor provisions came from Byzantium—but every official sought to extort special payments, by special means, out of the richer citizens.

They everywhere ordered a revision of the tax-lists, discovered arrears owing since the times of the Gothic Kings, even from the days of Odoacer, and left the citizens the option of paying immense sums for indemnity or of carrying on a ruinous lawsuit with Justinian's fiscus, who scarcely ever lost one.

But if the tax-lists were incomplete or destroyed—which happened often enough in those times of war—the accountants arbitrarily reconstructed them.

In short, all the arts of finance which had ruined the provinces of the Eastern Empire were practised in Italy, after the landing of Belisarius, as far as imperial arms could reach.

Without consideration for the misery of war-time, the tax executors unyoked the oxen of the peasant from the plough, took his tools from the workshop of the artisan, and his wares from the house of the merchant.

In many towns the people rebelled against their oppressors and drove them away; but they only returned in larger numbers with severer measures.

The Mauretanian horsemen of Justinian, with African bloodhounds, hunted the desperate peasants from their hiding-places in the woods, whither they had fled to escape the tax-gatherer. And Cethegus, who alone was in a position to check such deeds, looked on with calculating coolness.

He desired that, before the end of the war, all Italy should have become acquainted with the tyranny of Byzantium, for then it would be a lighter task for him to persuade the people to rise and, when they had got rid of the Goths, to throw off the burden of the Byzantines. He listened to the complaints of the deputations from various towns, who appealed to him for assistance, with a shrug and the laconic answer:

"That is only Byzantine government—you must get used to it."

"No," had answered the deputation from Rome, "one does not get accustomed to what is unbearable. The Emperor may live to see that of which he has never even dreamed!"

To Cethegus this could only mean the independence of Italy; he knew of nothing else.

But he was mistaken.

Although he thought meanly enough of his countrymen and the times in which he lived, he yet believed that he could elevate them by example.

But the thought so natural to his spirit; as necessary to him as the air he breathed—the freedom and independence of Italy—was far too grand for the comprehension of that generation.

They could only vacillate between two masters.

And when the yoke of Byzantium proved unbearable they began to recall to their memory the milder rule of the Goths; a possibility which had never entered the Prefect's head.

And yet such was the case.

Before Tarvisium, Ticinum, and Verona, there now happened on a small scale, that which was preparing on a large one in such cities as Neapolis and Rome. The Italian country-people revolted against the Byzantine officials and soldiers, and the inhabitants of the above-named three cities supported the Goths in every possible manner.

So, when Totila, backed by the armed peasants of the plains, had destroyed a great part of their works, the besiegers of Tarvisium were obliged to cease their attacks, and limit themselves to the defence of their camp, thus enabling Totila to draw supplies and soldiers from the neighbouring country.

With a more cheerful spirit than usual he one evening made his round of the walls of Tarvisium.

Rosy clouds floated across the sky, and the sun, as it sank behind the Venetian hills, gilded all the plain before him.

With emotion he watched the peasants from the neighbourhood streaming through the open gates of the city, bringing bread, meat, and wine to his half-starved Goths; who, on their part, hurried out into the open country, and Germans and Italians, embracing, celebrated the victory which they had together gained over their hated enemies.

"Is it then impossible," said Totila to himself, "to preserve and propagate this amity through the whole country? Is it a necessity that these two nations should be eternally divided? How their friendship embellishes each! Have we not also failed, in that we ever treated the Italians as the vanquished? We meet them with suspicion, instead of with generous confidence. We demand their obedience, and neglect to win their affection. And it would have been well worth the winning! Had it been won—never would Byzantium have gained a footing here! The release from my vow—Valeria—would not have been so unattainable. Would that it were permitted me to strive for this goal in my way!"

His reflections and dreams were interrupted by a messenger from the outposts, announcing that the enemy had suddenly forsaken their camp, and were in fall retreat to the south, towards Ravenna. On the road to the west clouds of dust were seen: a large body of horsemen was approaching—probably Goths.

Totila received the news with joy, but also with doubt. He took all necessary measures against a stratagem.

But during the night his doubts were resolved. He was awakened by the news of a Gothic victory, and the arrival of the victor.

He hurried out and found Hildebrand, Teja, Thorismuth, and Wachis.

With the cry of "Victory! victory!" his friends greeted him, and Teja and Hildebrand announced that at Ticina, and Verona also, the country-people had rebelled against the Byzantines, and had aided the Goths in falling upon the besiegers, whom, after destroying their defences, they had forced to retreat.

But in spite of this joyful news, there lay in Teja's eyes and voice a deeper melancholy than usual.

"What of sorrow hast thou to communicate, beside this joy?" asked Totila.

"The shameful ruin of the best man in the world!" said Teja, and signed to Wachis, who now related the sufferings and death of the King and his wife.

"I escaped the arrows of the Huns by hiding amongst the rushes. Thus I still live. But only for one thing; that is, to revenge my master upon his betrayer and murderer—Cethegus the Prefect."

"No; the Prefect is mine!" said Teja.

"Thou, Totila, hast the first right to his life," said Hildebrand, "for thou hast a brother to revenge."

"My brother Hildebad!" cried Totila. "What of him?"

"He has been shamefully murdered by the Prefect," said Thorismuth, "before my very eyes, and I could not prevent it."

"My strong Hildebad dead!" exclaimed Totila. "Speak!"

"The hero lay with us in the Castle of Castra Nova, near Mantua," related Thorismuth. "The report of the King's treacherous death had reached us. Hildebad challenged Belisarius and Cethegus to mortal combat. Presently a herald arrived, who said that Belisarius had accepted the challenge, and expected thy brother on the plain between our walls and their camp. Thy brother set forth rejoicing; we horsemen followed. And verily, there rode out of a tent, in his golden armour, with closed helm and white plume, with his round shield—well known to us all—the hero, Belisarius. Only twelve horsemen followed him; foremost of all, Cethegus the Prefect. The other Byzantines halted just outside the camp. Hildebad ordered me to follow him with an equal number of horsemen. The two combatants greeted each other with their spears; the trumpets sounded, and Hildebad rushed at his enemy. The next moment the latter lay upon the ground, pierced through and through. Thy brother, unhurt, dismounted, crying: 'That was no thrust from Belisarius!' and opened the visor of the dying man. 'Bessas!' cried Hildebad, and looked, furious at the deception, towards his enemies. Then the Prefect gave a sign. The twelve Moorish horsemen hurled their spears, and, severely hit, thy brother fell."

Totila covered his face. Teja went sympathisingly up to him.

"Listen to the end," said Thorismuth. "When we saw this murder, we were filled with fury. We threw ourselves upon the enemy, who, trusting that we should be discouraged, pressed forward from the camp. After a hot fight, we compelled them to fly. Only the speed of his devilish horse saved the Prefect, who was wounded in the shoulder by my spear. Thy brother lived to see our victory. He caused the chest which he had brought from Ravenna to be carried down to the Castle; opened it, and said to me: 'Crown, shield, and sword of Theodoric. Take them to my brother.' And with his last breath he cried: 'He must revenge me and renew our kingdom. Tell him—that I loved him very dearly!' Then he sank back upon his shield, and his faithful soul departed."

"My brother! Oh, my beloved brother!" cried Totila, leaning against a pillar. Tears flowed from his eyes.

There was a moment of reverent silence.

Then: "Remember thine oath!" cried Hildebrand. "He was doubly thy brother! Thou wilt revenge him!"

"Yes," said Totila, and involuntarily he drew the sword—which Teja handed to him—from its sheath. "I will revenge him!"

It was the sword of Theodoric.

"And renew the kingdom," said old Hildebrand solemnly, and, taking the crown, he set it upon Totila's head. "Hail to thee, King of the Goths!"

Totila started.

He raised his left hand to the golden coronet.

"What do ye?" he exclaimed.

"That which is right. The dying hero's words were prophecy! Thou wilt surely renew the kingdom. Three victories call upon thee to take up the struggle. Remember thine oath. We are not yet defenceless. Shall we lay down our weapons? Shall we submit to treachery and tricks?"

"No," cried Totila, "that we will not. And it is well done to choose a king, as a sign of renewed hope. But here stands Earl Teja, worthier than I, of proved experience. Choose Teja!"

"No," said Teja, shaking his head, "it is thy turn first! Thy dying brother has sent thee this sword and crown. Wear them happily! If the kingdom can be saved, it is thou who canst save it; if not, an avenger must be left."

"But now," interrupted Hildebrand, "now we must hasten to sow the seeds of confidence in all hearts. This is thine office, Totila! See, the young day breaks in glory. The first rays of the sun fall into the hall and kiss, thy brow! It is a sign from the gods! Hail, King Totila—thou that shalt renew the Gothic kingdom!"

The youth pressed the glittering crown firmly upon his golden locks, and raised Theodoric's sword towards the morning sun.

"Yes!" he cried, "if human strength can do it, I will raise anew the kingdom of the Goths."