Ilias Anagnostakis Wine, Water, Bread and Love Affairs. On A 6th-Century Military Campaign
Ilias Anagnostakis Wine, Water, Bread and Love Affairs. On A 6th-Century Military Campaign
02)”05”
821.14’04:394(495.02)”05”
Ilias ANAGNOSTAKIS
National Hellenic Research Foundation
Institute of Historical Research
Section of Byzantine Research
Athens
Greece
Abstract: This paper discusses some controversial issues and events during the
campaign against the Vandals in 533, as described by historian Prokopios. This new reading
highlights elements of everyday life and culture, military and political tactics, and personal
rivalries and strategies.
Keywords: Vandal war, naval expedition, Methone in Peloponnesus, Justinian
politics, Prokopios’ works, narrative strategies, omens, Belisarios, Antonina’s love affair, war
supplies, wine, water, bread, ships, horses.
First, the title must be explained1. The rather unwieldy list of wine, bread,
water, and love affairs is a deliberate choice aimed at indicating the abundance of
issues and events that cropped up during a campaign the like of which, in terms of
analytical description, we know of no other from the sixth century or indeed from
any other period of Byzantium: I refer to the campaign against the Vandals in 533, as
described by the historian Prokopios2. The title would become tiresomely verbose if
1
A different version was presented in the Workshop From Anastasius I to Maurice. Continuity
and Renewal in the 6th century, Seminar “N. Oikonomides”, Athens, June 11, 2015.
2
Prokopios, Wars, Procopius, Opera omnia, vols. 1–2, ed. J. Haury and G. Wirth, Stuttgart 1962–
1963, henceforth Wars; Prokopios, The Secret History, Procopius, Opera omnia, vol. 3, ed. J.
Haury and G. Wirth, Stuttgart 1963, henceforth Secret History. For the English translations, A.
Kaldellis, Prokopios, The Secret History with related Texts, Indianapolis – Cambridge 2010 and
H. B. Dewing and A. Kaldellis, Prokopios, The Wars of Justinian, Indianapolis – Cambridge 2014.
23
Ilias Anagnostakis
3
Av. Cameron, Procopius and the Sixth Century, London 1985, and A. Kaldellis, Procopius of
Caesarea: Tyranny, History and Philosophy at the End of Antiquity, Philadelphia 2004. See also,
G. Greatrex, Recent work on Procopius and the Composition of Wars VIII, BMGS 27 (2003) 45–
67; A. Kaldellis, Prokopios’ Vandal War: Thematic Trajectories and Hidden Transcripts, North
Africa under Byzantium and Early Islam, ca. 500 – ca. 800, J. Conant and S. Stevens (eds),
Washington, D.C: Dumbarton Oaks, 2015, 13–21.
4
I. Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream before the campaign against Libya: a reading of Wars 3.12.1–5,
Dreaming in Byzantium and Beyond, C. Angelidi and G. Calofonos (eds), Ashgate 2014, 79–94; A.
Kaldellis – I. Anagnostakis, Ο Ιουστινιανός πίσω από τον αυτοκράτορα, Athens 2014, 86–88.
5
Wars 5.7.6–8. H. Jackson, On an Oracle in Procopius de bello Gothico I 7, The Journal of
Philology 30 (1906) 228 renders the phrase as: Africa capta sedet: Mundus natusque peribit; cf.
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Ilias Anagnostakis
I believe, however, that the initial interpretation of the omen would have
been quite different and would have had a more general air of resentment following
the massacre during the Nika Revolt and the bad omens concerning the planned
campaign in Libya; namely, that the great amount of spilt wine corresponded to or
already symbolized the profusion of blood spilt in the massacre during Belisarios’
suppression of the Nika Revolt or was a sign of the forthcoming massacres and
destruction in Libya. Wine, after all, was invariably considered the symbol par
excellence of blood, being the blood of grapes. Therefore, the copious amount of
wine spilt in the spring of 533 in Belisarios’ cellar, just before the start of the campaign
against the Vandals, could initially have functioned as a reminder of the Nika massacre
and as an omen of the impending bloodshed during the conquest of Africa10.
Yet another interpretation of the incident, regardless of its use by Prokopios
and its initial or final interpretation, unexpectedly offers narrative support of claims
made by experts about climate cooling during these same years, the decade of 530.
Although this omen story has generally been limited to the world of narrative
paradoxology, we are now in a position, with the assistance of oenologists and climate
historians, to show that it essentially records the interruption of yeast fermentation
due to excessive cold. In other words, fermentation was wrongly considered to be
over and the jars were sealed, while this was due to early, very low temperatures in
the Bosphorus. In spring, however, eight months later, as Prokopios explicitly says,
probably after a long winter with very low temperatures, as soon as the temperature
started to rise (May–June in the year 533), the yeast sprang to life and began to slowly
break down the sugars. The gas that had accumulated in some jars caused the clay
stoppers to break, the gas to escape into the air, and the wine to flood the winery11.
Therefore, the incident in the winery can be explained by the extreme
climatic phenomena reported during the 530s. Thus I believe that the frost that
stopped the fermentation of the must in the Panteichion winery constitutes one of
the earliest accounts of the impact of significant climate changes during the sixth
century on viticulture and wine-production12. The way in which we are presented
with the incident in the Panteichion by Prokopios, on the other hand, is typical of the
narrative strategy he employs. While in many other similar cases Prokopios proceeds
with a naturalistic interpretation of the paradox or the legendary, here he does not
put forward even the smallest rational interpretation, nor does he tactfully call on
his agnosticism to avoid personal involvement, as he does in many similar incidents13.
He prefers to consign the incident to the world of prophecy and paradoxology, placing
it in his narrative, however, not in the year before Belisarios set sail, but at a much
10
Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream, 80; Kaldellis – Anagnostakis, Ο Ιουστινιανός, 86–88, 128.
11
Anagnostakis, Όταν το κρασί, 198–199, and 210–12 (oenological comment by S. Kourakou);
Anagnostakis, Paroinia en pourpre, 914–915, and Anagnostakis, Wine Culture in Byzantium,
28–30. Also, Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream, 79–80; Anagnostakis, Cold and Wine, 34–36
(climatic comment).
12
Anagnostakis, Wine Culture in Byzantium, 28–30; Anagnostakis, Cold and Wine, 34–39.
13
Cameron, Procopius, 9, 137ff; A. Cameron, The Scepticism of Prokopios, Historia 15 (1966) 475.
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later time, when he believes that it came true. In other words, he applies a strategy
adequately studied in his narrative: the strategy of delayed information14. From the
possible dual interpretation he actually adopts a positive interpretation appropriate
for his beloved Belisarios. In a recent article, we found roughly the same narrative
strategy applied to the dual interpretation of a dream. I am referring to the cryptic
‘lotophagic’ dream seen by Prokopios himself before sailing. One of the two possible
interpretations of the dream, the positive one, supposedly persuaded him, even
though he was totally set against it, to take part in the campaign: the flowers offered
to Belisarios as a delicacy to eat in the dream seen by Prokopios symbolize the riches
of Libya, rather than the land of death and of lotophagic oblivion. The positive
interpretation is presented in narrative several years later and after the success of the
campaign so as to justify Prokopios’ volte –face15. Prokopios uses similar strategies in
the case of many other symbols and incidents, and he does so both while narrating
the preparation of the campaign as well as when sailing along with it; through these
he covertly directs harsh criticism at Justinian and his associates.
Water and Bread. Prokopios mentions numerous important things about
the decision to mount the campaign, but he mainly focuses on the objections set
forth by many to such a risky venture and on the frivolity of the final decision and
preparation. In the historian’s words, nobody wanted to assume the leadership of
the army and the fleet. Prokopios describes a dramatic scene at the palace: while
Justinian was informing the council of his intention to go to war, the prefect Ioannes
Kappadokes declared himself against the plan in a vehement speech with realistic
arguments. The emperor initially gave in, but later changed his mind when he was
visited by a bishop from the East who had dreamt that God had instructed him to
present himself to the emperor and tell him that he had to liberate the Christians in
Africa from the oppression of the heretic Arians. Justinian was supposedly persuaded
by the bishop and ordered Belisarios to lead the campaign16.
It has been intelligently suggested that Prokopios, when presenting these
deliberations leading up to the campaign, used as a model Herodotus’ narrative about
Xerxes’ decision to go to war against Greece. So indirectly Prokopios equates Justinian
with an oriental despot of slaves and not the ruler of free men, as a leader whose
mind is changed on such a crucial issue by a bishop’s dream. He also presents as
hypocritical Justinian’s diplomacy with Gelimer, the new king of the Vandals, as he
believes that the decision had already been made and that the emperor was simply
looking for excuses17.
14
Kaldellis, Procopius, 33 and passim; Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream, 80–81, 93.
15
Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream, 78–94.
16
Wars 3. 10–13.
17
Kaldellis, Procopius, 180 ff. See also the narrative of the expedition against Crete and the
extensive verbal and thematic parallels between Prokopios and the version of the Continuator
of Pseudo-Symeon, A. Kaldellis, The Byzantine conquest of Crete (961 AD), Prokopios’ Vandal
War, and the Continuator of the Chronicle of Symeon, Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 39
(2015) 302–311.
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Wine, Water, Bread and Love Affairs on a Sixth-Century Military Campaign...
Once more the way in which we are presented with this event by Prokopios
is typical of the narrative strategy he employs. Here, even if he put forward his
agnosticism to avoid personal involvement, by using the strategy of delayed
information he implies that the curse was later put on Stotzas, for whom after his
rebellion and death in Carthage there was “no return” to Constantinople. But the
ironic form of the description permits one more reading: Prokopios may have wished
to present Justinian as superstitious, disorganized and absent-minded, as having
forgotten to tell Valerianos and Martinos something very important. Clearly this is a
caricature and the only thing that it shows us is the criticism he levelled at the
dangerous and perfunctory preparation being made for the campaign. Α mysterious
air of conspiracy, if not espionage, begins to envelop the duo, Valerianos and
Martinos, and their subversive retainers like Stotzas. Whilst almost all the other facts
pertaining to the campaign are described in detail, the mission and actions of the two
men are never clarified, unless they are considered obvious, as we shall see below,
and consequently do not need explanation. So Valerianos and Martinos sailed from
Constantinople and travelled to the chōria of Peloponnese and waited for Belisarios’
fleet at Methone.
As opposed to this, Belisarios’ departure and voyage from Constantinople is
described in meticulous detail, probably because Prokopios himself was part of it. In
this expedition against Carthage, a total of 48,000 men took part (32,000 sailors and
16,000 soldiers), i.e. “ten thousand foot-soldiers and five thousand horsemen, gathered
from the regular armies and the foederati”27. More analytically, according to Prokopios:
There were “four hundred Heruls, whom Fara led, and about six
hundred barbarian allies from the nation of the Massagetai, all
mounted archers… Five hundred ships were required for the whole
force… In all the vessels together there were thirty thousand sailors,
Egyptians and Ionians for the most part, and Kilikians, and one
commander was appointed over all the ships, Kalonymos of Alexandria.
They had also long-ships prepared for sea-fighting numbering ninety-
two, and these were single-banked ships covered by decks, so that the
men rowing them were not exposed to enemy missiles. These boats
are called dromons by men of the present time, for they are able to
attain a great speed. In these sailed two thousand men of Byzantium,
who were all rowers as well as fighting men, for there was not a single
superfluous man among them”28.
27
Wars 3, 11. 2.
28
Wars 3, 11. 11–16. English translation Dewing – Kaldellis, Prokopios, The Wars, 169–170. On
the nature of this modest army, despite the impressive number of unarmed ships that operated
just as ferries, see L. Casson, Belisarius’ Expedition against Carthage, Excavations at Carthage,
v. 7 J. H. Humphrey, ed., Ann Arbor, MI 1982, 23–28. For these numbers and the expenses, W.
Treadgold, Byzantium and Its Army 284–1081, Oxford 1995, 91–92, 191–192.
29
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29
On the dromon and Prokopios’ description, see J. H. Pryor – E. M. Jeffreys, The Age of the
DROMON: The Byzantine Navy ca 500–1204, Leiden/Boston 2011, 125 ff. ; Kaldellis notes
(Dewing – Kaldellis, Prokopios, The Wars, 170, note 344) that “This is among the first references
to the dromons, the Byzantine “runners.” But 2000 rowers to 92 ships produces far too low a
ratio of fewer than twenty men per ship. Perhaps one of these figures is corrupt’.
30
Wars 3.12. 1–2. Immediately after follows Prokopios’ lotophagic dream, Wars 3.12. 3–5;
Anagnostakis, Procopius’s dream, 85–86.
31
Wars 3.12. For the horses in the total number of the transported cavalry, Pryor – Jeffreys, The
Age of the DROMON, 325–326.
32
Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 325.
33
Wars 3. 12.16–22. Anagnostakis, Paroinia en pourpre, 917. Kaldellis – Anagnostakis, Ο
Ιουστινιανός, 128–129.
34
Secret History, 25.1–5. Anagnostakis, Paroinia en pourpre, 911–913.
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The fleet under Belisarios crossed the Aegean and, on reaching the area of
Malea, met with absolute calm. It then passed Cape Tainaron and arrived at
Kainoupolis (called also Tainaron by Prokopios), which is present-day Kyparissos in
Mani, from where it headed towards Methone to meet Valerianos and Martinos who
had arrived a short time before and were waiting there, stranded by the calm seas35.
If we now attempt to seek the reason for this double departure and the final
meeting in Methone, we should perhaps look at a finding of strategic and
topographical interest provided by Prokopios concerning the Byzantine-Vandalic
conflict in this area. We know that the Vandals were carrying out raids in the Adriatic
and the Ionian seas and along the Peloponnesian coasts, and that they had in fact
previously attacked Tainaron (= Kainoupolis), and Zakynthos, namely the basic points
of the sea route in this campaign36. Despite the fact that no Vandalic raids occurred
in the early sixth century, still, an advance guard under Valerianos and Martinos would
have been deemed it essential to take stock of the situation and assess and secure the
safety of the anticipated crossing.
If indeed the mission of the duo was to keep watch on the enemy’s potential
moves, as well as to recruit sailors and collect supplies from the chōria, the
Peloponnesian ports and regions, then it was essentially performing a part of the
known tactical provisions and stratagems revealed to us in the Byzantine Naumachika
when they discuss the journeys of warship and sea campaigns. Naumachika, in actual
fact Syrianos Magistros, states, for example, that during sea missions it is essential for
the commander of the navy to have with him people who know not only the islands,
the ports, but also the chōria (exactly the same word) near the sea and for some
people to go on ahead in lighter, faster ships to spy and gather information, and
report back to the fleet37. Naumachika also considers that “it is not practical to write
about this… and it may be harmful, for some matters should not be made known to
the enemy (ἀσύμφορον διὰ τὸ μὴ πουβλικίζεσθαι τοῖς πολεμίοις)”… and all these
35
Wars 3. 13.8–9. Pausanias already gives Tainaron as the old name of Kainoupolis, Pausanias,
Description of Greece 3.21. 7.5 and 3. 25. 9. 1–3 ; A. Avraméa, Le Péloponnèse du IVe au VIIIe
siecle: changements et persistances, Byzantina Sorbonensia 15 (Paris 1997) 102.
36
Wars 3. 22. 16–18; A. Bon, Le Péloponnèse byzantin jusqu’en 1204, Paris 1951, 14; Avraméa,
Péloponnèse, 59, 102 ; I. Anagnostakis, Coastal Installations, Early Byzantine Messenia, Early
Christian Messene and Olympia. Urban and Agrarian Area in the Western Peloponnese, P. G.
Themelis – V. Konti (eds), Athens 2002 (in Greek = “Παράκτιοι οικισμοί της πρωτοβυζαντινής
Μεσσηνίας. Η σιωπή των πηγών και η αποσπασματική μαρτυρία της αρχαιολογίας”), 137–
160 and here 137–138; Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 9.
37
Leo VI, Naumachika, Sylloge Tacticorum quae olim „Inedita Leonis Tactica” dicebatur, ed. A.
Dain, Paris 1938 and G. T. Dennis, The Tactica of Leo VI [Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae
12] Washington, D.C 2010, 502–535, 19.24–83. For Naumachika by Syrianos Magistros, we use
T. Kolias and I. Dimitroukas, Ναυμαχικά, Athens 2005, 112–143, and here 115–117, and see also
the commentary, D. F. Sullivan, Siegecraft – Two Tenth-Century Instructional Manuals by “Heron
of Byzantium”, Dumbarton Oaks 2000, 360. See also for this practice in the Byzantine
narratives, Kaldellis, The Byzantine conquest of Crete, 306.
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activities and inventions should be kept secret (ἐν μυστηρίω)38. Valerianos and
Martinos were probably on such a secret mission. It should be noted that later in 536
this military duo was reported as being under orders from Justinian; they had sailed
as far as Greece and, as they were unable to proceed any farther, they spend the
winter in the regions, the chōria of Aitolia and Akarnania (ἐπί Αἰτωλίας τε καὶ
Ἀκαρνανίας χωρία), before sailing to Italy39. Once again not even the slightest
explanation is given for the reason they were there.
I propose that the purpose of Valerianos and Martinos’ mission to the
Peloponnese, apart from securing the route, would have been to ensure and monitor
supplies and access to water for the fleet along a coastline that did not have rivers and
springs. It is worth noting the calculations that have been made concerning a fleet’s
need for water. Each horse is estimated as needing about 36 litres per day and each
oarsman about 8 litres of water per day, as rowing, especially during the summer
months, causes one to sweat a great deal inside a sailing ship. Since the sailors’ main
food was salted preserves, the need for water was even greater, and for a ship
carrying horses even larger amounts were needed. It has been estimated that a ship
with 150 sailors needed 1200 litres of drinking water per day40. For 5,000 horses some
180 metric tons would have been needed every day41. We can see from this how
important it was to ensure drinking water for an army such as that of Belisarios which
had in total 48, 000 men (32,000 oarsmen and sailors and 16,000 soldiers) and about
5,000 horses needed some 564 metric tons every day. Consequently, the purpose of
Valerianos and Martinos’ mission, apart from anything else, would have been to
inspect the springs and ensure that the fleet had a supply of drinkable water. It is
well-known that poisoned wells had long since been used as a weapon for
exterminating the opponent. Besides, Prokopios recounts that the water of the whole
fleet was spoiled during the voyage from Constantinople to Africa and it was their
constant concern to find and preserve clean and drinkable water on the ships42.
The meeting at Methone, where Belisarios anchored the ships and
disembarked the whole army (ὥρμισεν καὶ ἀπεβίβασεν ἅπαν τὸ στράτευμα) because
there were no winds blowing,43 raises justifiable questions about the mooring of 500
transport ships and 92 dromons with 32,000 sailors and 16,000 soldiers (5,000 or
6,000 of them cavalry)44. The situation must have become even more difficult, even
38
Leo VI, Naumachika, ed. Dennis, 19.71.
39
Wars 5.24.20
40
For these calculations, A. Wegener Sleeswyka and Fik Meijerb, The Water Supply of the Argo
and other oared Ships, The Mariner’s Mirror 84, no 2 (1998) 131–138; J. H. Pryor, Water, water
everywhere, Nor any drop to drink. Water Supplies for the Fleets of the First Crusade, Dei gesta
per Francos. Études sur les croisades dédiées à J. Richard, M. Balard, B. Z. Kedar, J. Riley – Smith
(eds), Aldershot 2001, 21–28; Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 325–327 and 354–360.
41
Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 329.
42
Wars 3.13. 21–24.
43
Wars 3.13.10.
44
On the most likely way of mooring ships in the bay of Methone and the islands opposite, see
Anagnostakis, Coastal Installations in Early Byzantine Messenia, 137–160 and here 155–160.
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tragic, when their stay in Methone most likely lasted about two months, until the end
of August, due to a calm sea. A deadly disease soon broke out in the hot village, as it
is described by Prokopios, a place widely known for its lack of water (only from
cisterns45). Prokopios attributes the deaths of 500 soldiers to the rotten bread brought
by the fleet from Constantinople and blames the praetorian prefect Ioannes
Kappadokes “a crooked character and so skilful at devising ways of gathering money
into the public treasury to the detriment of men”46. He tells us that, so as to save
money on firewood and bakers’ wages, the prefect supplied the army with underbaked
bread which, during the campaign, turned back into flour, went mouldy and stank47,
whereas particularly for military purposes it should have been baked twice (to
become hardtack), so as to keep. This is the exact description of the disintegration of
the bread: “When the fleet arrived at Methone, the loaves disintegrated and reverted
to flour, not wholesome flour, however, but rotten, mouldy, and already emitting a
strong odour‘’48. According to Prokopios, feeding upon this underbaked, rotten bread
in the summer time in a place where the climate is very hot “the soldiers became sick
and no fewer than five hundred of them died”49. To avoid the worst, Belisarios
ordered local bread to be supplied to them (ἄρτους ἐπιχωρίους χορηγεῖσθαι)50.
Prokopios’ hatred for Kappadokes is well-known. It may be, however, that in this case
he targeted Kappadokes too quickly and perhaps even wrongly. Although the whole
incident concerning the rotten bread in Methone has not been adequately studied,
it has been claimed that it could have been a case of ergotism (poisoning caused by
the consumption of cereals contaminated by ergot fungi, which grow in the ears of
grain)51. The case of an epidemic should not be ruled out, however, when this
happened in a pass-through port and when a few years later the great plague broke
out (the well-known Justinian Plague). The most probable cause of the fatalities was
some epidemic and not Ioannes Kappadokes’ negligence, regardless of the fact that
bread was probably not stored properly. But for the political and narrative strategies
of Prokopios things were different… On leaving Methone, the fleet obtained fresh
water from Zakynthos but in the sixteen days that it took them to reach Sicily, the
water of the whole fleet was spoiled (ἅπασι διαφθαρῆναι τὰ ὕδατα). Only the water
that Antonina put aside for Belisarios and his closest companions was not affected
45
Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 354–355.
46
Wars 3.13. 12.
47
Wars 3.13. 15–16.
48
Wars 3.13. 18.
49
Wars 3.13. 20.
50
Wars 3.13.20. On bread for the army, see T. Kolias, Essgewohnheiten und Verpflegung im
Byzantinischen Heer, Byzantios, Festschrift für Herbert Hunger zum 70. Geburtstag.
Dargebracht von Schülern und Mitarbeitern, W. Hörandner, J. Koder, O. Kresten, E. Trapp (eds),
Wien 1984, 197–199. On the supply of local bread to the army, see the hypotheses,
Anagnostakis, Coastal Installations in Early Byzantine Messenia, 157–158.
51
I. Anagnostakis – Chr. Angelidi, Pane pubblico, pane che avvelena. Strategie e politiche alimentari
a Bisanzio, La Civiltà del pane. Storia, tecniche e simboli dal Mediterraneo all’Atlantico, Atti del
Convegno, G. Archetti (ed.), Brescia 2015, 635–641 and here 639–641 with the relevant bibliography.
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(ἀπαθὲς τὸ ὕδωρ διέμεινε). In the belly of the ship, Antonina constructed a container
from planks of wood, which the sun could not penetrate. She then filled it with sand
and concealed in the sand, out of the sun’s rays, glass amphorae (ἀμφορέας ἐξ
ὑάλου), which she had filled with water52. On arriving finally in Africa, the first happy
event was when they found water. Prokopios narrates the events as follows:
52
Wars 3. 13. 21–24.
53
Wars 3. 15. 31–35.
54
Pryor – Jeffreys, The Age of the DROMON, 325–327.
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These titillating details were given by Prokopios years later in the Anekdota or Secret
History, that extremely critical and controversial work, in which the great historian
shamelessly lets his pen run freely. In theory, any omissions or secrets concerning
the departure of the fleet that he left out from The Wars, he revealed in the Anekdota.
According to recent studies, the Anekdota was written in 552–553 when, following
the death of Theodora in 548, a coup was being prepared against Justinian and
Prokopios tried, through this criticism, to keep his distance. The failure of the coup
kept the unpublished work away from the wider reading public, unlike the Wars62.
We have already mentioned that when the patriarch Epiphanios blessed the
fleet’s departure for Libya (=Africa), he let a newly baptized sailor onto the general’s
ship. We wondered above what exactly the significance was of such a detail being
recorded at the most crucial point of the departure, when directly afterward it is
reported that the general Belisarios and Antonina, his wife, set sail (στρατηγὸς
Βελισάριος καὶ Ἀντωνίνα ἡ γυνὴ ἔπλεον) on the same ship63. Prokopios therefore at
this point in the Wars hides a great deal from us; as he later confesses in the
Anekdota, he was forced to conceal many things in the public work out of fear. A
great deal of what he had hidden in the Wars concerned Antonina, whom he hated,
and Theodora, who had in the meantime passed away. Therefore we learn the
following about the 550s when Anekdota was written:
62
H. Börm, Procopius, his Predecessors, and the Genesis of the Anecdota: Antimonarchic
discourse in Late Antique Historiography, Antimonarchic Discourse in Antiquity, H. Börm (ed.),
Stuttgart 2015, 305–346. See also A. Kaldellis, The Date and Structure of Prokopios’ Secret
History and His Projected Work on Church History, GRBS 49 (2009) 585–616.
63
Wars 3.12. 2.
64
Secret History 1. 15–17 and for the English translation, Kaldellis, 6–7.
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Prokopios tells of these amorous entanglements that took place during the
departure and the journey, and continues to describe a passionate, decade-long love
affair. And as it has in fact been said, “this setting sail was a marital rather than purely
martial event”65. What is important for us is that Antonina fell in love with Theodosios
during the voyage. This fact, namely Theodosios’ presence in Methone and their
sexual encounters there, has not been presented or historico-philologically staged
due to the historian’s elliptical presentation and the separate reading of his two
works. I therefore believe that today I can make a case without any trouble. No special
probative reasoning is required to map out the fictional erotic topography of the
campaign. The voyage from Constantinople to Carthage lasted about three months,
from 10 June (from Abydos, about 20 June) to 10 September in the year 533. We are
not sure exactly when the trio Belisarios – Antonina – Theodosius reached Methone,
where the duo Valerianos and Martinos awaited them. They stayed in Methone for
about two months due to deaths and a dead calm sea, finally leaving on about 22
August and arriving in Zakynthos on 24 August and in Sicily sixteen days later, on 9
September66. Consequently, when Prokopios says that Antonina fell in love with
Theodosius immediately (εὐθύς τε ἐρασθεῖσα) and that their love intensified during
the voyage (ἐκτόπως ἐν τῷ διάπλῳ), Methone must be included in the voyage and
was, I believe, the primary ‘love nest’ due to the duration of the fleet’s stay there (two
months). Throughout all those days in the cramped confines of a ship, apart from
epidemics, illicit passions can also emerge, even more so during the long stay in
Methone in a hot village, and with death lying in wait. It is the ultimate fictional
triptych: Hot Summer, Love, and Death. The love affair went on, according to the
Anekdota, even after the conquest of Carthage, where in fact Belisarios once caught
them in flagrante delicto… But let’s leave them to it. Modern fiction found suitable
material in these love affairs to concoct stories of debauchery. Even the matter of the
bread and water that Antonina had set aside became a story of powerful drugged
items by the two lovers. And modern historians are in agreement that, while Antonina
helped Belisarios greatly with his work as a general (it must be noted that she was
responsible for supplying Rome with grain and bread67), Prokopios’ narrative strategies
and expediency in Anekdota, like those of modern novelists, sometimes say nothing of
her positive actions and other times present her in a bad light, sullying her name.
The campaign, to everyone’s surprise, was a complete success. The fleet sailed
across the Mediterranean and in late 533 and early 534 Belisarios defeated the
Vandals in two battles, conquered Carthage and arrested Gelimer, taking him to
Constantinople. This victory brought immense prestige to Justinian, but at the
following cost: the victorious commander Belisarios, friend of Prokopios, could have
been seen as a potential rival to the emperor, as he was maligned by his personal
enemies. On this campaign and indeed throughout the rest of his life Prokopios had
but one model, a unique hero, whom he continued to admire: Belisarios. Both
65
Kaldellis, Prokopios’ Vandal War, 19.
66
Casson, Belisarius’ Expedition against Carthage, 26–28.
67
Wars 6. 4–7.
37
Ilias Anagnostakis
Justinian and Theodora, with her friend and accomplice Antonina, were considered
obstacles to the career of them both and his narrative strategies in recounting the
events were largely determined by this preoccupation and the political situation. So
some years later after the campaign, in about 550, when Prokopios began to write the
history in the Wars, he had to handle in his narration (in all three of his works) either
openly or covertly, not only the historicity of many incidents, but also the contradictory
interpretations of numerous legends and events and above all his own ambivalence
and the belying of his expectations and evaluations. In conclusion, Prokopios, while
either recording faithfully or reconstructing the issues of the campaign’s wine, water,
bread supply and love affairs by using a strategy of invective, reveals to us in either
case aspects of policy. It has been brilliantly argued, the Vandal War is a political
document, but its politics belong to Prokopios68.
68
Kaldellis, Prokopios’ Vandal War, 21.
38
Wine, Water, Bread and Love Affairs on a Sixth-Century Military Campaign...
Илиас АНАГНОСТАКИС
Резиме
39
ИСТОРИЈСКИ ИНСТИТУТ БЕОГРАД
Зборник радова
књига 32
СПОМЕНИЦА
ДР ТИБОРА ЖИВКОВИЋА
Уредник издања
Ирена Р. Цвијановић
Oдговорни уредник
Срђан Рудић,
Директор Историјског института
Београд
2016