The Historians of Late Antiquity (29 page)

Nevertheless, Ammianus does not approve of an emperor who is excessively familiar or civil. Instead, he favors an emperor with the military virtues of discipline and authority. Ammianus praises Julian’s ability to abstain from food, sex, and sleep, which sets him apart from the ordinary man (25.4.2–6). According to the historian, one of Julian’s virtues was his “citizenly behavior,” which he explains by commenting that Julian only demanded honors “which he thought necessary to keep him from contempt and insolence” (25.4.7). Julian did not, however, always successfully avoid slipping inappropriately into familiarity. A desire for popularity, Ammianus says, led him to talk with unworthy persons (25.4.18). His dismissal of most of the palace staff was not wholly admirable, perhaps because the imperial majesty would not remain sufficiently exalted without a contingent of courtiers (22.4.1–2). When the emperor went on foot in the procession with the consuls for the year 362, Ammianus notes that some thought this creditable, but others thought it “affected and cheap” (22.7.1). And it was extremely undignified for the emperor to leap up from the judge’s chair and embrace Maximus in public (22.7.3–4). Ammianus’ nostalgic or reactionary view of imperial power harkens back to Hellenistic models of the philosopher king, rather than to Roman models of the republican citizen.

Ammianus’ portrait of Constantius II serves as a useful contrast to his portrait of Julian. His description of the emperor’s entrance into Rome in 357 is one of the most famous and most analyzed passages in the
Res Gestae
(16.10). The emperor’s chariot gleamed with gold and gems, while the banners and flags and the shining armor of his attendants added to the splendor of the procession. Despite the frenzy of motion and the echoing cheers around him, Constantius himself remained completely passive and motionless, and he “was never seen to spit or to wipe or rub his face or nose or to move his hand” (16.10.10). Ammianus is critical of this performance because he believes that Constantius is unworthy of the honor, but not because he disapproves of the style, which to the historian demonstrates that Constantius has “an unusual degree of self-control.” In Constantius’ obituary notice Ammianus recalls this event as an illustration of one of the emperor’s virtues, along with his general chastity and moderation in eating and drinking (21.16.5–7).

Eunapius’ ideal emperor, Julian, was a philosopher king, a divine being who had condescended to rule on earth. This sort of emperor played the role of an ordinary citizen, but possessed more exalted motives. Julian had, through his philosophical studies, raised himself far above the material world. He became emperor not from any grasping desire for power, but on behalf of mankind, and he was a friend to the soldiers not from the base desire for popularity, but for love of the state (
fr
. 28.1). Although Eunapius divinized Julian, he also praised him for the friendliness and accessibility which made him a more effective judge (
fr
. 25.1).

Olympiodorus, an imperial diplomat, shares a concern for imperial dignity with Ammianus and Eunapius. His description of Constantius III, who briefly shared power with Honorius in 421, contrasts with Ammianus’ picture of Constantius II. In public processions Constantius was “downcast and sullen,” he slouched forward over his horse’s neck, and his eyes darted from side to side (
fr
. 23). All this added up to “an image worthy of a tyrant.” Olympiodorus reveals that subjects were constantly evaluating the self-presentation of their emperors to determine their fitness for power.

Socrates speaks for the entire genre of ecclesiastical history when he states that he should only relate the deeds of the emperor that relate to Christianity, not his other accomplishments, which belong in a separate treatise (1.18.14). The proper deportment of an emperor remained an important issue in church history, however. When church historians present idealized portraits of Christian emperors, they reveal a desire for the same combination of civility and sublimity expressed by the pagan historians.

The Christian emperor demonstrated his civility by his behavior not only before his subjects but also before God and the church. Church historians suggest that the good emperor, like Constantine, does not exaggerate his majesty, is humble before Christ, and civil with bishops, whom he treats as equals. The most extreme example of such humility was the submission of Theodosius before Ambrose, for he knew that it was Ambrose’s job to point out the fault and provide the remedy, and his own responsibility to obey (Theod. 5.18.15). Another example of imperial humility, less extreme but more unsanitary, is Socrates’ praise of Theodosius II for wearing the filthy sackcloth of hair belonging to a recently deceased bishop (7.22.14).

Sozomen presents the education of the young Theodosius II by his sister, Pulcheria, as the ideal training for Christian kingship.
The emperor is taught to be “orderly and princely” in his manners, and how to walk, sit, and wear his robes in proper regal fashion. The most important element of Pulcheria’s instruction, however, is training in piety. Theodosius is taught to pray continually and to have constant reverence for members of the church (9.1.8). In Theodosius II’s adoption of the practices of a monastic life, we see elements of the aloofness or exaltedness demanded of the emperor expressed in Christian terms (Soc. 7.22; Soz.
pref
.). This emperor, like Julian, has a tremendous ability to resist heat, cold, thirst, and hunger. In Julian’s case, his moderate diet demonstrates his closeness to a common soldier, while for Theodosius, fasting demonstrates his resemblance to a monk. Theodosius’ palace is like a monastery (Soc. 7.22.4), and although he wears a crown and purple robe, it is his piety which truly distinguishes him (Soz.
pref
. 3). The portrayals of Theodosius and of Julian express an essential paradox of late antique leadership. Historians yearn for an emperor who is both far superior to his subjects, yet simultaneously meek and humble.

The bureaucracy

With the exception of the army, the Roman empire had always operated with a surprisingly small number of government employees by modern standards. Tax collection and the erection and maintenance of public works were performed almost entirely at the local level. In comparison with the negligible size of the early imperial administration, however, the later empire saw an explosion in the number of imperial functionaries. This expansion was in part a product of the large increase in the number of provinces and other geographical subdivisions of the empire, which was in turn a product of the increasing demand for tax revenue. This increase in the imperial reach did not, however, necessarily lead to the diminishment of the power of the individual subject. Several layers of government, and in some cases ecclesiastical government as well, created opportunities for some Romans to manipulate the system to their own ends.

Posts in the bureaucracy were filled through a vast network of patronage. Emperors repeatedly promulgated laws which sought to prevent those who would normally have served in local government from receiving exemptions through imperial appointment. This suggests that service in the imperial administration had become increasingly more appealing in the later empire. The
highest ranking officials of the bureaucracy, both civilian and military, formed the
consistorium
, the emperor’s group of advisors, who discussed policy, heard legal cases, received embassies, and participated in ceremonial activities.

Historians held emperors responsible for the quality of their appointments and the activities of their subordinates. For Eutropius, a mark of Antoninus Pius’ honor is that he “gave office to good men” and “detested evil ones” (8.8.2). Eutropius, who himself held several high offices, alternately considers the issue from the perspective of a subject and of an official. He strongly praises Augustus for his great loyalty to his friends, whom he raised to positions of great dignity (7.8.4), while criticizing both Constantius and Julian for being too trusting and generous toward friends (10.15.2, 10.16.3). For Victor, the reigns of Constantine, Constans, and Constantius II were all marred by the poor behavior of some of their subordinates, although this sort of criticism may simply serve as a way for the historian to criticize near-contemporary administrations without insulting the emperors themselves (41.21, 41.23, 42.25). Victor elsewhere considers the roles of subordinates in shaping an emperor’s reign. The emperor Claudius, for example, made outstanding decisions early in his reign, despite his incompetence, because of his good advisors (4.1). Unfortunately, by the end of his reign Claudius was making worse decisions under the influence of his wife and freedmen (4.5). Commodus was such a bad emperor that his dissolute advisors tried to poison him, as he was even more depraved than they were (17.7).

In his account of the reign of Constantius, Ammianus stresses the influence of the eunuchs. The centralization of power and the isolation of the emperor had resulted in the rise of numerous unofficial channels of influence, and for Ammianus, as for many of his contemporaries, the power of eunuchs was thought to be particularly disgraceful (Hopwood 1978; Guyot 1980; Matthews 1989: 274–7; Tougher 1999). It had been illegal to create a eunuch within the empire since the time of Domitian. In the absence of such a law, Ammianus claims, the empire would be teeming with them (18.4.5). Eunuchs were widely believed to be devious and greedy, and the historian attributes these characteristics to the whole of Constantius’ reign by the constant portrayal of an emperor under the thumb of eunuchs. Ammianus ironically describes the Grand Chamberlain Eusebius, a eunuch, as an official “with whom, to tell the truth, Constantius had much influence” (18.4.3).

While Ammianus depicts Constantius as dominated by his eunuchs and advisors, he describes Valentinian as more successful in staffing the bureaucracy. He checked the excesses of the imperial court and never showed favor to his relatives (30.9.2). He was also careful to ensure that offices were not sold and that governors of provinces did not have improper financial connections (30.9.3). Ammianus does describe one exception to this generally admirable record. Sextus Petronius Probus was a corrupt aristocrat whose death shortly before the publication of the
Res Gestae
perhaps encouraged the historian to reflect upon his career in full (27.11; McCoy 1985; Cameron 1985; Barnes 1998: 117–19). Probus had immense wealth and property, “whether justly or otherwise,” Ammianus remarks, “is beyond my humble ability to judge.” Probus used his imperial positions to operate a massive web of patronage, and Ammianus says that, while he never himself broke the law, he turned a blind eye to the activities of his clients and friends.

Just as Ammianus depicted his patron Ursicinus under constant attack from the eunuchs of Constantius, so too did Eunapius portray the incorruptible general Sebastian elbowed aside by the imperial eunuchs (
fr
. 44.3). The rise to power of the eunuch Eutropius in the east provided contemporaries with endless opportunities to vent their hatred and, in the case of Eunapius, to revel in grotesque imagery. The historian claimed, for example, that the success of Eutropius encouraged even men with beards to castrate themselves, in the hope of imperial favor: “they lost their minds along with their testicles” (
fr
. 65.7). Eunapius also expresses disgust at the subordinates of Eutropius’ successor, the corrupt Rufinus. His administrators, who had formerly been “runaway tavern-servants and bench-cleaners and floor-sweepers,” now appeared garbed in gold and purple (
fr
. 62.2).

Eunapius also laments corruption in the governing of provinces, which he says were offered at auction during the supremacy of Eudoxia (
fr
. 72.1). He suggests that officials who became involved in this corruption were liable to be defrauded themselves by corrupt superiors. Eunapius most likely exaggerates the extent of the corruption to increase the contrast with the exalted time of Julian, when he boasted that incorruptible subordinates like Salutius Secundus admirably served the state (
fr
. 25.5). In fact, the historian deplores the normal operation of the late Roman state, whereby governors would purchase their offices and then attempt to recoup their costs through extortion and judicial corruption. The legal
codes, which were unable to eradicate this practice, merely set limits on the sums charged in the sale of various offices. Priscus complains that the greed of the eunuchs who dominated Theodosius II corrupted the state, since able administrators could not afford to purchase their offices, which were held instead by the incompetent (
fr
. 3.2).

When Eunapius sought to describe the character of the emperor Gratian, he found that because of the secrecy surrounding the palace and the emperor’s circle he was unable to gather reliable information (
fr
. 50). The late antique emperor is often depicted making policy in secret and doing the bidding of eunuchs or other unsavory counselors. The difficulty of obtaining trustworthy information about imperial decision-making often led historians to rely on rumor and speculation to explain decisions which seemed mistaken or evil. Socrates, for example, explains Constantius’ rejection of Athanasius and the homoousian creed by evoking a backroom plot (2.2). He claims that the priest who had delivered Constantine’s will to Constantius upon his accession was rewarded by the emperor with gifts and access to the court. This priest became close to Eusebius, the eunuch chamberlain, and persuaded him “to adopt Arius’ views.” Eusebius in turn converted the other eunuchs of the palace, as well as the empress, and the doctrine spread throughout the other palace officials and from there to the citizenry. Sozomen adapts Socrates’ version of events in his own history (3.1), while Theodoret, the church historian least interested in governmental affairs, condenses the conspiracy into the arguments of a single priest directly convincing the weak-minded emperor himself (2.3).

Justice