THE FALL OF EUTROPIUS—HIS RETREAT TO THE SANCTUARY OF THE CHURCH—RIGHT OF SANCTUARY MAINTAINED BY CHRYSOSTOM—DEATH OF EUTROPIUS—REVOLT OF GOTHIC COMMANDERS TRIBIGILD AND GAÏNAS—DEMAND OF GAÏNAS FOR AN ARIAN CHURCH REFUSED BY CHRYSOSTOM—DEFEAT AND DEATH OF GAÏNAS. A.D. 399-401.

The Empress Eudoxia had rejoiced to discover that the new Archbishop, although he mainly owed his promotion to the supreme minister of the Court, was by no means disposed to be ruled by him. If, indeed, Eutropius had expected to be rewarded for the elevation of Chrysostom by finding in him a complaisant servant, he sustained a severe disappointment. Some little pretences which the minister made of assisting the Church, by patronising Chrysostom’s missionary projects, could not disguise the iniquitous venality of his administration, or protect him from the solemn warnings and severe censure of one who was no respecter of persons. In fact, when the Archbishop declaimed against the cupidity, injustice, and extortions of the rich, it was obvious to all that Eutropius was the most signal example of those vices. Eudoxia was anxiously aiming to compass the fall of the detested minister; detested by her more especially, not only because he thwarted her influence with Arcadius generally, but had also persuaded him to withhold from her the title of Augusta until she should present a male heir to the throne. She spared no pains therefore to conciliate the Archbishop, who might prove a valuable ally to her cause. It has been seen with what an appearance at least of humble piety she took part in the nocturnal procession which conducted some sacred reliques to their resting-place outside Constantinople.

Her chamberlain, Amantius (himself distinguished for unaffected Christian piety), was the frequent bearer to the Archbishop of her liberal contributions to the support of churches, or the relief of the poor. With her own hands, it is said, she traced designs for basilicas to be erected at her expense in some of the country districts.461 Chrysostom was always ready to welcome as genuine any manifestations of religious feeling. Such practical proofs of her attachment to the Church completely captivated him, and for the present his rich vocabulary could hardly furnish language adequate to express his admiration and gratitude.462

Meanwhile, the poor doomed minister, not content to remain as he began, enjoying the reality of power without the name, prepared the way for his own destruction by inducing the Emperor to bestow on him the titles of Patrician and Consul. The acquisition of these venerated and venerable names by the eunuch slave caused a profound emotion of indignation and shame throughout the Empire, but especially in the Western capital, where they were bound up with all the most noble and glorious memories in the history of the nation. It is true the consulship was now an empty honour, destitute of all the great duties and responsibilities which formerly were attached to it. But the year was still named after the consul, and the character of the man was by a superstitious feeling projected on to the year which he inaugurated. The name of the odious Eutropius, eunuch and slave, if prefixed to the year, would seem to overshadow it with a kind of ominous and baleful blight, and to be in itself a portent of incalculable disaster. In short, after their indignation had vented itself in much bitter sarcasm, the Romans resolved that the consulship of Eutropius should never be inscribed at the Capitol. A solemn deputation from the people and senate waited on Honorius and Stilicho at Milan, to submit their decision, and to implore the imperial assent. Their spokesman recounted the glorious exploits of Theodosius and (by a flattering courtesy) of his son. The Saxon by the ocean, defeated; Britain delivered from the Picts; Gaul protected from the menaces of Germany! “Through thee Rome beholds the Frank humbled at her feet, the Suevian discomfited, and the Rhine, submissive to thy rule, salutes thee under the name of Germanicus. But the East, alas! envies us our prosperity; abominable conspiracies are fermenting there which tend to break up our unity” ... the revolt of Gildo, the destruction of African towns, the famine of Rome, all these calamities were the work of Eutropius, and for these he was rewarded with the consulship! The East, accustomed to stoop under the sceptre of women, might accept the rule of a eunuch slave; but that to which the Orontes and the Halys submitted as ordinary custom would be a foul stain on the waters of the Tiber. The image of Eutropius should never be placed in the same rank with those of Æmilius, of Decius, of Camillus, the saviours and supporters of their country, the champions of Roman freedom!... “Rise from your tombs, ancient Romans, pride of Latium; behold an unknown colleague on your curule chairs; rise and avenge the majesty of the Roman name!”463

Honorius, prompted no doubt by Stilicho, accorded a favourable reply to the supplication of the Roman people. Mallius Theodorus, prÆtorian prefect of Italy, a man eminent in virtue and ability as lawyer, soldier, and writer, and not less popular than distinguished, was nominated Consul by Honorius amidst general approbation, and his name appears in the Fasti of the West without a colleague.464

No doubt some of the virtuous indignation of the Romans is to be attributed to the jealousy which now ran high between East and West, but we may also not fancifully discern genuine sparks of the independent spirit of their forefathers. Amidst the general decadence and degeneracy of the whole Empire, the West did not descend, could not have descended, to such depths of servile adulation as did the Byzantines on the occasion of the inauguration of Eutropius as Consul. When, arrayed in an ample Roman robe, he assumed his seat in the palace of the CÆsars, the doors were thrown open to an eager crowd of flatterers. The senate, the generals, all the high functionaries of the state, poured in to offer their homage to the great personage; emulated each other in the honour of kissing his hand, and even his wrinkled visage. They saluted him as the bulwark of the laws, and the parent of the Emperor. Statues of bronze or marble were placed in various parts of the city, representing him in the costume of warrior or judge, and the inscriptions on their pedestals styled him third founder of the city after Byzas and Constantine.

No wonder that Claudian declaimed with bitter sarcasm against “a Byzantine nobility and Greek Quirites,” and even invokes Neptune by a stroke of his trident to unseat and submerge the degenerate city which had inflicted such a deep disgrace upon the Empire.465

And in truth a blow of no mean force, though directed not by the hand of a mythic deity, but of a stout barbarian was about to descend on the Eastern capital. The consequences of it were averted only by the sacrifice of the new consul who had chiefly provoked it; upon him it came with crushing effect: he fell never to rise again. In the final scene of this curious drama the Archbishop plays a conspicuous part, and therefore it must be unfolded from the beginning. But, independently of this, it throws light upon the condition of the Eastern Empire at that period.

Tribigild, a Gothic soldier of distinction, had been, according to a usage now prevalent, promoted to the rank of Tribune, and placed in command of a military colony of Gruthongi (a large branch of the Ostrogoths), established in the region of Phrygia, near the town of Nacolea. The recent elevation of Alaric to the rank of Commander-in-chief of the Roman forces in the East had encouraged the pretensions and raised the expectations of all barbarian commanders. In the February or March next after the appointment of Eutropius to the consulship, Tribigild appeared at court to solicit promotion for himself and a higher rate of pay for his martial colonists, who, too ignorant or too proud to maintain themselves by cultivating the soil, were perishing of hunger in the midst of the most productive regions of Asia Minor. His suit was one among many of similar applications at that time constantly brought before the Court, and it was coldly dismissed by the Emperor’s minister. Tribigild was not one to return home and brood in sullen and ineffective silence over his repulse. GaÏnas, the Gothic leader, to whom it will be remembered Stilicho had confided the task of putting Rufinus to death, was still in Constantinople; and he was a relation of Tribigild, who found in him a sympathiser to inflame rather than soothe his sense of wrong. In this irritated frame of mind, like a train of powder only needing the application of a match to produce an explosion, he returned to Phrygia. According to Claudian, that match was applied by his wife. He dramatically describes her welcome of the returning husband: “She flies to meet him, embraces him with her snow-white arms, and eagerly inquires what honours or rewards he brings back from the generous prince.” When the chieftain relates his ineffectual errand, and the cold disdain with which he had been treated by Eutropius, the chieftainess tears her face with her nails, and with bitter irony bids her husband sheathe his sword and attend to his plough or his vine. She contrasts her own condition with the happy wives and sisters of other warriors; they enjoyed rich spoils in the shape of adornments or of beautiful Grecian handmaids. “Alaric, who broke treaties, was rewarded for it, but those who observe them remain poor. Alaric invaded and pillaged Epirus, and was made commander of the forces; you go humbly to solicit your due and are repulsed. Enrich yourself with booty, and you will be a Roman citizen as soon as you please.”466 No doubt this scene, whether wholly imaginary or not, faithfully represents the feelings which, since the fatal promotion of Alaric, must have encouraged treasonable designs on the part of many barbarian chiefs. At any rate, whether the resentment of Tribigild was inflamed or not by the irony of his wife, he resolved to cast off allegiance to the Empire. He mustered his forces, which gladly abandoned their feeble attempts at husbandry to return to the more congenial pursuit of war and plunder. The rich country of Phrygia was rapidly overrun, and some of the fortified towns, owing partly to the decay of their walls, were captured. All Asia Minor was convulsed with apprehension, and appealed to Constantinople for protection.

Eutropius affected to treat the rebellion as a petty insurrection, the suppression of which belonged rather to the judge armed with instruments of torture than to a military force. He declined the proffered assistance of GaÏnas, but secretly negotiated with Tribigild, in the hope of subduing him by means of promotion or of a bribe in money. The Goth, proud to have turned the tables upon the minister who had recently treated him with scorn, steadfastly declined to accept any satisfaction but one—the head of Eutropius himself. Thus war was inevitable; but who was to conduct it? Eutropius dared not trust GaÏnas to act against his own countryman and kinsman. He retained him therefore at Constantinople in command of the city troops, and committed the management of the legions to one of his favourites, Leo, described by Claudian as a man “abounding in flesh, but scant of brains;”467 once a wool-carder, but, under the administration of the eunuch, a military commander. His obesity made him an object of derision to the army, and, joined to his natural incapacity and ignorance, rendered him the most unfit man to conduct an expedition against the subtle and active barbarian. Leo crossed the Bosporus with a large, ill-disciplined army, whose approach was welcomed by the devastated provinces, which vainly rejoiced at the prospect of speedy deliverance from the ravager. The enemy, meanwhile, had retreated southwards through Pisidia, and after a narrow escape from destruction in the defiles of Mount Taurus, where the inhabitants made a fierce stand, he emerged into Pamphylia, and awaited Leo in the vast plain of the Eurymedon and Melas, which extends between the chain of Taurus and the sea. The doughty commander of the imperial forces eagerly pursued the Goths, and flattered himself, as the artful chieftain pretended to retreat in alarm, that he had cooped him up by the sea. In the confident anticipation of success, the discipline, such as it was, of Leo’s camp became still more relaxed. Little or no watch was kept; festivity, drunkenness, and disorder of all kinds prevailed; while the general had allowed himself to be drawn into a fatal position between a wary enemy in front and an impassable morass in his rear. In the depth of a dark night, the Goth swooped down upon his prey: all were asleep in the camp, the slumbers of many deepened by drunkenness. Those who were not killed on the spot fled in wild confusion, but only to flounder in the marsh, in the oozy bed of which large numbers were absorbed. A few scattered remnants reached the Bosporus by devious routes, to carry tidings of the disaster to Constantinople. Leo himself had plunged on horseback into the morass; the animal soon sank under the weight of his bulky rider, who, after vain struggles to extricate himself, was finally sucked beneath the quag. To such a bathos have the annals of Roman warfare descended! A Roman general suffocated in mud!468

The news of this disaster struck panic into the population and Court of Constantinople. There was but one who rejoiced; for he saw himself master of the situation. This was GaÏnas; he was the only man at hand capable of confronting Tribigild, and he was despatched across the Bosporus with his barbarian auxiliaries. But he did nothing to check the enemy, who had resumed his career of pillage. He represented that the forces opposed to him were insuperable, but expressed a firm conviction that Tribigild would become as loyal a servant as himself on one condition—the surrender of the minister Eutropius, the principal author of all the evils of the State.469

Arcadius was placed in a state of cruel perplexity. We need not suppose that he was attached to Eutropius, but his weak and indolent nature shrank from the responsibility and labour to which, through the industry of his ambitious minister, he had been a stranger. Now, however, from all quarters the truth was forced upon him, that if he would save his throne, he must part with his newly-made consul. Ugly rumours were prevalent that Stilicho was meditating a march to the East, and at the same time a new king, hostile to the Empire, had ascended the throne in Persia.470 But a nearer and more persuasive enemy of Eutropius was at hand to give the finishing impulse to his fall. The profound jealousy of his power entertained by Eudoxia has been already intimated. Not only had the title of Augusta been withheld from her through his influence, but he had even carried his arrogance so far at this time as to declare that his hand, which had elevated her, could also depose her from her present position altogether. The proud Frankish blood of the Empress could ill brook such words from the lips of an upstart menial, consul though he now was. With a passionate gesture she dismissed him from her presence, hastened to her two young children, Flaccilla and Pulcheria, and with them made her way into the apartment of Arcadius. To his inquiries as to the purpose of her sudden appearance she made at first no reply save by a flood of tears, in which the children, from natural sympathy, joined; but presently, in language broken by sobs, she related a tale of insults received at the hands of Eutropius, and the crowning insult of the whole series. This was the blow which was completely to fell the tottering minister. He was summoned to the imperial presence, and having been informed that he was deprived of his official dignity, and his property confiscated, he was commanded instantly to quit the palace under pain of death.471

The poor wretch, who had mounted from the lowest dregs of society to the grandest position a subject could occupy, was thus by a single blow suddenly reduced to the position from which he had started; and even worse, for death stared him in the face. The bows and smiles with which courtiers had greeted him that morning, when he was still the royal favourite, concealed, he well knew, a hatred and a scorn which were not confined to them, but animated the whole population, and only needed opportunity to declare themselves. That opportunity had come. He had no friends; whither should he fly? There was but one place to which he could in his extremity naturally turn—the sanctuary of the Church; but here, by the cruel irony of his fate, a law emanating from himself barred his entrance.

The right of asylum, which was once possessed by many of the Pagan temples, passed over, by a natural transition, about the time of Constantine, to Christian churches. However useful in ages of great rudeness and ferocity this right may be, either to shelter the innocent from lawless violence, or to give offenders protection from vindictive rage till the time of equitable trial, it inevitably becomes, sooner or later, an intolerable interference with the natural course of law and justice. Tiberius had found it expedient to restrict or abolish such rights attached to many of the Greek and Asiatic temples. Their suppression was resisted partly from feelings of pride, partly of mercenary interest, partly of respect for the sanctity of the places, as in the case in our own country of the sanctuary of Westminster.472 In the reign of Theodosius I. a law was passed which excepted gross criminals and public debtors, and another in the reign of Arcadius, which excepted Jewish debtors who pretended to be Christians, from the privileges of asylum;473 but by a law of September, A.D. 397, suggested by Eutropius, clergy and monks, in whose churches or convents fugitives might shelter, were obliged to surrender them to the officers of justice, though they might appeal to the Court in their favour.474 The special object of Eutropius had been to cut off all retreat from the victims of his jealous ambition or avarice; and now he was one of the first to want the protection which he had himself abolished. But he knew, no one better, that the law had excited much resentment and resistance on the part of the Church; and it might well be that the Archbishop would gladly connive at the violation of the obnoxious measure by the very person who had framed it. He resolved to make the attempt. In the humblest guise of a suppliant, tears streaming down his puckered cheeks, his scant grey hairs smeared with dust, he crept into the cathedral, pushed aside the curtain which divided the chancel or sanctuary from the nave, and, clinging closely to the holy table,475 awaited the approach of the Archbishop or any of the clergy.476 The enemy was on his track. As he lay quaking with terror, he could hear on the other side of the thin partition the trampling of feet, mingled with the clattering of arms and voices raised in threatening tones by soldiers on the search. At this crisis he was found by the Archbishop, in a state of pitiable and abject terror; his cheek blanched with a death-like pallor, his teeth chattering, his whole frame quivering, as with faltering lips he craved the asylum of the Church.477

He was not repulsed as the destroyer of that shelter which he now sought. Chrysostom rejoiced in the opportunity afforded to the Church of exhibiting at once her clemency and power, by taking a noble revenge upon her former adversary. The clamour of the soldiers on the other side of the veil increased. Chrysostom led the unhappy fugitive to the sacristy; and having concealed him there, he confronted his pursuers, asserted the inviolability of the Church’s sanctuary, and refused to surrender the refugee. “None shall penetrate the sanctuary save over my body; the Church is the Bride of Jesus Christ, who has intrusted her honour to me, and I will never betray it.” The soldiers threatened to lay violent hands on the Archbishop; but he freely presented himself to them, and only desired to be conducted to the Emperor, that the whole affair might be submitted to his judgment. He was accordingly placed between two rows of spearmen, and marched like a prisoner from the cathedral to the palace.478

The populace meanwhile had heard of the wonderful event of the day. The news of the detested minister’s degradation had circulated through the Hippodrome, where a grand performance had attracted large multitudes. The spectators rose in a mass, uttered a shout of exultation, and vociferously demanded the head of the culprit.479

Chrysostom meanwhile maintained before the Emperor his lofty tone of authority in vindication of the Church’s right of asylum. Human laws could not weigh in the balance against divine; the very man who had assailed the Church’s divine right was now forced, in his day of distress, to plead in favour of it. The Emperor was moved, as he always was by any one who possessed some of that force of character which he himself lacked. Some feelings of compassion also for his late minister’s humiliation may have mingled themselves with superstitious dread of incurring Divine wrath. He promised to respect the retreat of Eutropius. But, on learning his decision, the troops which were in the city became indignant and furious in their demands that the culprit should be surrendered to justice. The Emperor made an address to them, entreating them even with tears to remember that they had received benefits as well as wrongs from the object of their present rage, and, above all things, imploring them to respect the sanctity of the holy table, to which the suppliant was clinging. By such words he restrained them with difficulty from the commission of any immediate violence.480

The following day was Sunday; but the places of public amusement and resort were deserted, and such a vast concourse of men and women thronged the cathedral as was rarely seen except on Easter Day.481 All were in a flutter of expectation to hear what the “golden mouth” would utter, the mouth of him who had dared, in defence of the Church’s right, to defy the arm of the law, and to stem the tide of popular feeling. But few perhaps were prepared to witness such a dramatic scene as was actually presented, and which gave additional force and effect to the words of the preacher. It was a common practice with the Archbishop, on account partly of his diminutive stature and some feebleness of voice, to preach from the “ambo,” or high reading-desk, which stood a little westward of the chancel, and therefore brought him into closer proximity with the people.482 On the present occasion, he had just taken his seat on the ambo, and a sea of upturned faces was directed towards his thin pale countenance in expectation of the stream of golden eloquence, when the curtain which separated the nave from the chancel was partially drawn aside, and disclosed to the view of the multitude the cowering form of the unhappy Eutropius, clinging to one of the columns which supported the holy table. Many a time had the Archbishop preached to light minds and unheeding ears on the vain and fleeting character of worldly honour, prosperity, luxury, wealth; now he would enforce attention, and drive his lesson home to the hearts of a vast audience, by pointing to a visible example of fallen grandeur in the poor unhappy creature who lay grovelling behind him. Presently he burst forth: “‘ata??t?? ata??t?t??!—O vanity of vanities!’” words how seasonable at all times, how pre-eminently seasonable now. “Where now are the pomp and circumstance of yonder man’s consulship? where his torch-light festivities? where the applause which once greeted him? where his banquets and garlands? Where is the stir that once attended his appearance in the streets, the flattering compliments addressed to him in the amphitheatre? They are gone, they are all gone; one rude blast has shattered all the leaves, and shows us the tree stripped quite bare, and shaken to its very roots.”... “These things were but as visions of the night, which fade at dawn; or vernal flowers, which wither when the spring is past; as shadows which flitted away, as bubbles which burst, as cobwebs which rent.”... “Therefore we chant continuously this heavenly strain: ata??t?? ata??t?t?? ?a? p??ta ata??t??. For these are words which should be inscribed on our walls and on our garments, in the market-place, by the wayside, on our doors, but above all should they be written in the conscience, and engraved upon the mind of every one.” Then, turning towards the pitiable figure by the holy table: “Did I not continually warn thee that wealth was a runaway slave, a thankless servant? but thou wouldst not heed, thou wouldst not be persuaded. Lo! now experience has proved to thee that it is not only fugitive and thankless, but murderous also; for this it is which has caused thee to tremble now with fear. Did not I declare, when you rebuked me for telling you the truth, ‘I love thee better than thy flatterers; I who reprove thee care for thee more than thy complaisant friends?’ Did I not add that the wounds inflicted by a friend were to be valued more than the kisses given by an enemy? If thou hadst endured my wounds, the kisses of thy enemies would not have wrought thee this destruction.”... “We act not like thy false friends, who have fled from thee, and are procuring their own safety through thy distress; the Church, which you treated as an enemy, has opened her bosom to receive thee; the theatre, which you favoured, has betrayed thee, and whetted the sword against thee.”483 He thus depicted, he said, the abject condition of the minister, not from any desire to insult the prostrate, not to drown one who was tossed on the billows of misfortune; but to warn those who were still sailing with a fair wind, lest they should be hurried into the same abyss. Who had been more exalted than this man? Had he not surpassed all in wealth? had he not climbed to the very pinnacle of grandeur? yet now he had become more miserable than a prisoner, more pitiable than a slave.... It was the glory of the Church to have afforded shelter to an enemy; the suppliant was the ornament of the altar. “What!” you say, “is this iniquitous, rapacious creature an ornament to the altar?” Hush! the sinful woman was permitted to touch the feet of Jesus Christ Himself, a permission which excites not our reproach, but our admiration and praise.... The degradation of Eutropius was a wholesome example both to the rich and poor. “Let some rich man enter the church, and he will derive much advantage from what he sees. The spectacle of one, lately at the pinnacle of power, now crouching with fear like a hare or a frog, chained to yonder pillar not by fetters, but by fright, will repress arrogance, and subdue pride, and will teach him the truth of the Scripture precept: ‘All flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass.’ On the other hand, let a poor man enter, and he will learn not to be discontented, or to deplore his lot; but will be grateful to his poverty, which is to him as a most secure asylum, a most tranquil haven, a most impenetrable fortress.”484 The Archbishop concluded by exhorting the people to mercy and forgiveness, following the example of their Emperor. How else could they with a clear conscience join in the Holy Mysteries about to be celebrated, or join in the prayer: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us?” He did not deny that the offender had committed great crimes, but the present was a season not for judgment but for mercy. If they would enjoy the favour of God, who had declared, “I will have mercy and not sacrifice,” they would intercede with the Emperor for the life of their enemy. So would they obtain the mercy of God for themselves, and remission of their own sins; so would they shed glory on their Church, and win the praise of their humane sovereign, while their own clemency would be extolled to the ends of the earth.”

The people probably thought that sufficient mercy had already been exercised by respecting the asylum of the Church as against the law, and no further effort, so far as is known, was made on behalf of the fallen minister. He remained for several days more in the sanctuary, and then secretly and suddenly quitted it. Whether he fled designedly, mistrusting the security of his retreat, perhaps even, with the suspiciousness natural to a deceitful person, mistrusting the fidelity of his protectors, and hoping to make his escape from Constantinople in disguise; or whether he surrendered himself on the condition that exile should be substituted for capital punishment, cannot with perfect certainty be determined. It is implied by one writer485 that he was seized and forcibly removed from the sanctuary. Chrysostom, on the other hand, declares that he would never have been given up, had he not abandoned the Church.486 However and wherever he may have been captured, some promise appears to have been made that his life at least should be spared. He was put on board a vessel which conveyed him to Cyprus, that island being designed, it was said, to be the place of his banishment for the remainder of his life.487 But his enemies had determined that his life should be brief. A suit was instituted against him at Constantinople on a variety of charges under the presidency of Aurelian, PrÆtorian Prefect. Over and above all his other crimes, he was found guilty of mingling with the ordinary costume of the consul certain ornaments or badges which belonged exclusively to the Emperors, and even of harnessing to his chariot animals of the imperial colour and breed. These were found to be treasonable offences, on the strength of which, in spite of some misgivings and hesitation on the part of Arcadius, which were overruled by Eudoxia and GaÏnas, the miserable culprit was recalled from Cyprus to Chalcedon, and there beheaded. As he entered that city, he might have seen affixed to the walls the imperial sentence, by the terms of which his property was declared confiscated to the State, his acts as consul were cancelled, the title of the year was changed, the world invited to rejoice at the purification of the consulship, and to cease to groan over the sight of the monstrosity which had disgraced and disfigured the divine honour of that sacred office. Finally, it was commanded that all statues or representations whatever of Eutropius in public places should be thrown down and broken in pieces.488

Thus the earnest desire of Eudoxia was accomplished: she remained mistress of the field, mistress, as she fondly hoped, of the Empire. The government for the present passed from the hands of a eunuch and slave into the hands of a woman. The possible rivals to her supremacy were the Gothic commander GaÏnas and the Archbishop. In what manner she was brought into hostile collision with these two very different personages remains now to be related. The Goth was determined in the ambitious pursuit of power, the Archbishop equally determined in the conscientious discharge of duty. The collision of the ruling powers with him was yet to come, but the contest with GaÏnas immediately succeeded the fall of Eutropius.

The Empress procured the elevation of Aurelian, PrÆtorian Prefect, to the consulship, and of her favourite (some said her criminal lover489), Count John, to the office of Comptroller of the Royal Treasury, or sacred largesses. The public affairs of the Empire were discussed and settled in a sort of cabinet council by her and her friends, of whom three wealthy but avaricious ladies, Castricia, Eugraphia, and Marcia, were the most influential. The haughty and manly spirit of the Gothic warrior naturally disdained to be directed by a coterie of women. He united his army with that of Tribigild, and the two forces assumed a menacing attitude in the vicinity of Constantinople, on the Asiatic side of the Bosporus. GaÏnas opened negotiations with the Emperor, refusing to communicate with any lesser power, complained that his services had been inadequately requited, and demanded, as a preliminary to any further correspondence, the surrender of three principal favourites at Court—Aurelian the Consul, Saturninus the husband of Castricia, and the Count John. The embarrassment of the Court was extreme; but the three ministers, in a genuine spirit, to all appearance, of Roman courage and self-sacrifice for the good of the State, crossed the Bosporus, and sent word to the camp of GaÏnas that they had come to surrender themselves into his hands. The chieftain subjected them to a grim practical jest. He caused them to be loaded with chains, and received them in his tent in the presence of an executioner. After all manner of insults had been heaped upon them, the executioner approached and swung his sword over them with a furious countenance as if on the point of decapitating, but, checking the impending blow, only made a slight scratch on their necks so as just to draw blood. This savage farce having been performed, the three were simply detained in the camp without suffering further violence.490

Chrysostom appears to have laboured diligently to mitigate the demands of GaÏnas. His language, in a homily delivered just after the surrender of the three captives, implies that some degree of success had attended his efforts, but it manifests also a feeling of great depression, caused by the unsettled, indeed anarchical, state of public affairs.

“After a long interval of silence, I return to you, my beloved disciples—a silence occasioned, not by any indifference or indolence, but by my absence spent in earnest endeavours to allay a tempest, and to bring into a haven those who were beginning to drown.”... “For this purpose I have withdrawn from you for a time, going backwards and forwards” [across the Bosporus], “exhorting, beseeching, supplicating, so as to avert the calamity which was impending over the higher powers. But now that these dismal matters have been concluded I return to you....” He had gone to rescue those who were falling and tempest-tossed; he came back to confirm those who were still standing and at rest, lest they should become victims of some calamity. “For there is nothing secure, nothing stable in human affairs; they are like a raging sea, every day producing strange and fearful shipwrecks. The world is full of tumult and confusion; everywhere are cliffs and precipices, rocks and reefs, fearfulness and trembling, peril and suspicion. No one trusts any one; each man is afraid of his neighbour. The time is at hand which the prophet depicted in those words: ‘Trust not in a friend, put not confidence in a guide’ (Micah vii. 5); civil strife prevails everywhere, not honest open warfare, but veiled under ten thousand masks. Many are the fleeces beneath which are concealed innumerable wolves; so that one might live more safely among enemies than among those who appear to be friends.”491

It is possible that the intercessions of Chrysostom may have saved the lives of the three captives, or averted any immediate assault of the Gothic army; but GaÏnas was in a position to dictate any terms he pleased, and his army was like a great swelling wave, threatening at any moment to break in overwhelming force upon the capital. An interview with the Emperor, protected from any insidious attack by the solemn oath of each party, took place in the church of St. Euphemia, situated on a lofty eminence above the city of Chalcedon. The Gothic leader no longer pretended to disguise his ambitious designs. He demanded to be made Consul and Commander-in-chief of the Imperial army, cavalry and infantry, Roman as well as barbarian troops; in short, he aspired to be in position the Stilicho of the East. The Emperor yielded to these ignominious terms, which in effect placed his capital at the mercy of a foreign invader. The troops were rapidly transported from the Asiatic side of the Bosporus and occupied Constantinople. They waited but the word of their commander to fly upon the booty with which the wealthy and luxurious city teemed, and which they beheld with hungry eyes; but for a time the signal was not given.492

GaÏnas, either from sincere attachment to the Arian form of faith, or possibly from ambition to display his power to his countrymen, who were mainly of the Arian persuasion, demanded the abolition of that law of Theodosius by which Arians were prohibited from public worship inside the city walls. He represented that it was specially indecorous for the Commander-in-chief of the Imperial forces to go outside the city to pay his public devotions. Arcadius, intimidated, and as usual on the point of yielding, referred the matter to the Archbishop. Chrysostom earnestly and indignantly deprecated any concession; to give up one of the Catholic churches to the Arians would be to cast things holy to the dogs, and to reward the impious at the expense of the reverent worshippers of Jesus Christ. He begged the Emperor to allow the whole matter to be discussed between himself and GaÏnas in the royal presence, when he trusted that, by the help of God, he should succeed in silencing the Gothic heretic, and in repressing any repetition of his profane demand.493 GaÏnas was not averse from the interview; he rather prided himself on his skill in theological debate, and boasted of having vanquished the monk Nilus on the question of the identity, or similarity, of substance in the first two Persons of the Holy Trinity.494 The Emperor was well satisfied to act the part of a quiet, irresponsible auditor. Accordingly, on the following day, Chrysostom appeared at the palace, accompanied by all those bishops who were in Constantinople at the time. GaÏnas put forward his demand. The Archbishop replied that it was impossible for a prince who laid claim to piety to take any step adverse to the interests of the Catholic faith. If GaÏnas wished to worship inside the walls, all the churches in the city were open to him. When the Goth claimed a right to possess one for his own sect, in consideration of his great services to the State, Chrysostom repelled the demand with indignant scorn. “You have already rewards far exceeding your deserts; you are Commander-in-chief and Consul. Consider what once you were, and what now you are; consider your former destitution and your present abundance. Look at the magnificence of your consular robes, and remember the rags in which you crossed the Danube. Speak not then of ingratitude on the part of those who have laden you with honours. Remember the oaths by which you swore fidelity to the great Theodosius and to his children.” He then cited the prohibitory law issued by Theodosius in A.D. 381, called upon the Emperor to enforce it, and on the Gothic commander to observe it. The ecclesiastical historians concur in affirming that the Goth was completely vanquished by the authoritative demeanour and eloquence of the Archbishop, and for the time at least desisted from pressing his demand; but it appears that Arcadius was obliged to satisfy his rapacity by melting the plate of the Apostles’ Church.495

Possibly, indeed, extortion of money had been the object of GaÏnas from the beginning in making his demand for an Arian church. The plunder-loving spirit of his army was aroused, and the gold and silver visible on the counters of money-changers, and in the shops of wealthy jewellers, was a temptation constantly dangling before their eyes, till a rumour of violent intentions, or perhaps common prudence, caused the owners to remove these alluring treasures into secret places of safety. If the enemy had entertained any design upon the shops, it was transferred from them to the palace, upon which they made a nocturnal assault. According to some accounts, it was repulsed by the vigorous courage of the citizens, who fell with arms upon the assailants; according to others, GaÏnas was scared in several attempts by a vision of an angelic host planted in bright array around the walls of the palace.496 The materials for the history of these occurrences are so meagre that it is impossible to ascertain details, but, from whatever cause, GaÏnas resolved to escape from the city. Fearing that if he attempted to quit it openly with his troops, he might be forcibly stopped or impeded in his departure, he pretended to be under the influence of a demon and that he desired to offer up prayers for relief from his affliction at the martyry of St. John at Hebdomon, seven miles outside Constantinople.

As he was going out, however, by one of the gates on this pretext, the guards stationed at the gate perceived that his followers were taking with them a quantity of arms which they endeavoured to conceal. The guards refused to let them pass; a fray ensued in which the guards were killed. The inhabitants were seized with mingled rage and terror. GaÏnas was declared by royal decree a public enemy. He himself was outside the walls, and the city gates were now all closed to cut him off and such forces as were with him from those who were left inside Constantinople. A large number of these assembled in and around the church of the Goths. Here they were attacked by the infuriated populace, which set fire to the building. The Goths perished wholesale in the flames or by the sword. GaÏnas, with the remainder of his followers, betook himself to a life of plunder in the Thracian Chersonese. But he found the inhabitants generally prepared to offer a stout resistance to his pillaging bands, which were soon reduced to great straits for subsistence. Meanwhile, a countryman of his in Constantinople was organising measures for his destruction. Fravitta was one of those Goths who had become assimilated to the people among whom they lived. He had married a Roman lady, and was eminent alike for refinement of manners, for valour in arms, and for honest fidelity to the government which he served.497 He offered to lead out such forces as could be placed at his disposal, pledged himself to clear the Chersonese of the rebels, and drive them, if necessary, beyond the Danube. The offer was accepted with joy, and Fravitta defeated the enemy in several engagements. GaÏnas attempted to cross the Hellespont, and throw his troops again into the fertile regions of Asia Minor; but his flimsy fleet of hastily-constructed rafts, being attacked by a well-managed body of galleys in the middle of the passage, was dispersed or broken in pieces, and a large part of his army was drowned. GaÏnas then determined, with the remnant of his followers, to beat a hasty retreat in the direction of the Danube, where he hoped to be joined by some of his own countrymen, and renew the offensive. The accounts of his march are not quite harmonious, and somewhat obscure. According to Zosimus,498 he was hotly pursued by Fravitta from place to place, across the range of HÆmus up to the shores of the Danube, into the waters of which he plunged on horseback, and with a scanty band of followers gained the opposite bank, intending thence to make his way to the settlements of his forefathers on the banks of the Pruth or Borysthenes. But his design was frustrated by an unexpected enemy. The Huns occupied at that time the region immediately north of the Danube, and their king, Uldes or Uldin, was disposed to enter into friendly relations with the Roman Empire. He took up the pursuit which Fravitta had abandoned at the river frontier, chased the unhappy Goth like a wild beast from one hiding-place to another, till at last the prey was caught and killed. His head was carried on the point of a lance to Constantinople, as a visible pledge of the good-will of the Hunnish chief. Sozomen and Socrates,499 on the other hand, represent him to have been overtaken, routed, and slain by Roman troops in Thrace.500

Theodoret has a vague story of his own, that when GaÏnas was ravaging Thrace, neither warrior nor ambassador could be found courageous enough to encounter him but Chrysostom, who, yielding to the public appeal, set forth to intercede, and was most respectfully received by the barbarian, who placed the right hand of the Archbishop on his own eyes, and brought his children to his knees—it may be presumed, to receive his blessing. Theodoret does not venture to affirm that the mission availed to induce the Goth to lay down his arms, and the whole story has an unreal and romantic character.501

Three aspirants to the absolute control of the Eastern Empire, widely different in race, character, and original condition of life—Rufinus, Eutropius, GaÏnas—had alike perished by a violent death. Fravitta was made consul, but he was too loyal or too unambitious to go beyond the line of his legitimate power. Eudoxia now stood without a rival in the management of the Emperor and the kingdom. Her influence over her husband was enhanced by the birth of a prince, who afterwards mounted the throne as Theodosius II.; and thus the final obstacle was removed to her being solemnly proclaimed Empress under the venerable title of Augusta.