A HISTORY OF THE LATER ROMAN EMPIRE 
        FROM ARCADIUS TO IRENE
        (395-800 AD)
        BY
          
        
        J. B. 
          BURY
  
          
         
        BOOK I
        
         
        BOOK II
        
         
        BOOK II
        
         
        BOOK IV
        THE HOUSE OF JUSTIN 
        
        
         
        PREFACE
          
        
        There is no period of history which has been so much
          obscured by incorrect and misleading titles as the period of the later Roman
          Empire. It is, I believe, more due to improper names than one might at first be
          disposed to admit, that the import of that period is so constantly
          misunderstood and its character so often misrepresented. For the first step
          towards grasping the history of those centuries through which the ancient
          evolved into the modern world is the comprehension of the fact that the old
          roman empire did not cease to exist until de year 1453. The line of roman
          emperors continued in unbroken succession from Octavius Augustus to Constantine
          Palaeologus.
          
        
        Now this essential fact is obscured as far as language is
          able to obscure it by applying the name “Byzantine” or the name “Greek” to the
          Empire in its later stages. Historians who use the phrase “Byzantine Emperor”
          are not very consistent or very precise as to the date at which the “Roman
          Empire” ends and the “Byzantine Empire” begins. Sometimes the line is drawn to
          the foundation of Constantinople by Constantine the Great, sometimes at the
          death of Theodosius the Great, sometimes at the reign of Justinian, sometimes
          (as by Finlay) at the accession of Leo the Isaurian; and the historian who
          adopts one line of division cannot assert that the historian who adopts a
          different line is wrong. For all such lines are purely arbitrary. No “Byzantine
          Empire” ever began to exist; the Roman Empire did not come to an end until 1453.
          
        
        But, it may be objected, it is not true that the Roman
          Empire in the days of Constantine VII, who reigned in the tenth century, was
          completely different from what it was in the days of Constantine I, who reigned
          in the fourth century? and having in view this great difference in character, is
          it not permissible for historians, as a mere matter of convenience, to
          distinguish the later period by some confessedly appropriate word like “Byzantine”
          or “Graeco-Roman”? Such a use may be of course convenient and harmless in
          conversation among those who are fully aware that it is only a phrase of
          convenience; and there is no objection to “Byzantine art” or “Graeco-Roman law”.
          But in writing or lecturing, such expressions as Byzantine, Greek, or Romaic
          Empire are highly objectionable, because they tend to obscure an important fact
          and perpetuate a serious error.
          
        
        It seems especially unfortunate to adopt one of these names
          as the title of a book, and thus help to stereotype as a separate unity what is
          really a part of a continuous series. Every century of the Roman Empire
          differed from the preceding and from the succeeding, but the development was
          continuous; the Empire was still the Roman Empire, and I am not aware that it
          is usual to give a man a new name when he enters upon a new decade of life. We
          designate a man as young and old; and so we may speak of the earlier and later
          ages of a kingdom or an empire. But Byzantine is a proper adjective, and is too
          apparently precise not to be misleading. Gibbon perhaps is almost the only
          modern historian who, in treating this subject, has not done injustice to the
          continuity of history by the title of his work; but unfortunately in reading
          the later chapters one is apt to forget what that title is.
          
        
        Moved by these considerations, I have avoided speaking of a
          Byzantine, a Greek, or a Graeco-Roman Empire, and have carefully restricted
          myself to the only correct appellation. For the sake of distinction the word
  "later" has been added on the title-page; and no further distinction
          is required, at least till the year 800, which marks the termination of my work.
          
        
        This brings us to another unfortunate use of words, which
          similarly tends to perpetuate an erroneous impression. A rival Roman Empire was
          founded in the West by the coronation of Charles the Great in 800; and it is evidently
          very convenient to distinguish the rival Empires by prefixing the adjectives
          Western and Eastern. And this nomenclature is not only convenient, but quite
          justifiable; for it suggest no historical error, while it express succinctly
          the European situation.
          
        
        But unhappily the phrase Eastern Roman Empire is not
          confined to this legitimate use. We hear of a Western and a Eastern Roman
          Empire in the fifth century; we hear of a Fall of the Western Empire n the 476. Such language, though it has the sanction of
          high names, is both incorrect in itself and leads to a further confusion. In
          the first place, it is incorrect. The Roman Empire was one and undivided in the
          fifth century; though there were generally more emperors than one, there were
          never two empires. To speak of two empires in the fifth century--and if such
          applies also to the fourth--is to misrepresent in the grossest manner the
          theory of the imperial constitution. No one talks about two empires in the days
          of Constantius and Constans; yet the relation of Arcadius and Honorius, the
          relation of Theodosius II and Valentinian III, the relation of Leo I and
          Anthemius, were exactly the same as the political relation which existed
          between the sons of Constantine. However independent one of another, or even
          hostile, the rulers from time to time may have been, theoretically the unity of
          the Empire which they ruled were unaffected. No Empire fell on 476; that year
          only marks a stage, and not even the most important stage, in the process of
          disintegration which was going on during the whole century. The resignation of
          Romulus Augustulus did not even shake the Roman Empire, far less did it cause
          an Empire to fall. It is unfortunate, therefore, that Gibbon spoke of the Fall
          of the Western Empire, and that many modern writers have given their sanction
          to the phrase. Notwithstanding all that Mr freeman has said on the
          matter on sundry places, it will be probably a long time before the inveterate
          error of assigning a wrong importance to the year 476 AD has been finally
          eradicated.
          
        
        In the second place this nomenclature leads to a further
          confusion. For it the erroneous expression Eastern Roman Empire be admitted
          into use for the fifth century, the inevitable tendency is identify this false
          abstraction with the Eastern Roman Empire, rightly so called, of the later
          days. And this identification unavoidably leads to the idea that a state called
          the Eastern Roman Empire came into being after the death of Theodosius the
          Great, in 395 AD, and continued until 1453 AD.
          
        
        The simplicity of history is thus obscured. Nothing can be
          easier than to apprehend that the Roman Empire endured, one and undivided,
          however changed and dismembered, from the first century BC to the fifteenth
          century AD; and that from the year 800 forward we distinguish it as Eastern, on
          account of the foundation of a rival Empire, which also called itself Roman, in
          the West.
          
        
        I have now explained my title, and I may add that by
          discarding the word Byzantine an additional advantage has been gained. So many
          prejudicial associations have grown up round this inauspicious word that it
          almost involves a petitio principii,
          like the phrase Bas-Empire in
          French. This is due to the unhistorical manner in which many eminent authors
          have treated the later Roman Empire. These writers knew very little about it,
          and they regarded it as a safe subject for derision. Voltaire, for instance,
          speaks of Byzantine history "as a worthless repertory of declamation and
          miracles, disgraceful to the human mind". "With this remark",
          says Finlay, "the records of an empire, which witnessed the rise and fall
          of the Caliphs and Carolingians, are dismissed by one who exclaimed: J'ôterai aux nations le bandeau
            de l’erreur". Gibbon hurried
          over the history of the Emperors later than the seventh century with
          contemptuous celerity, and his great authority has much to answer for. The
          remarks of Hegel in his Philosophie der Geschichte amount to much the same as the
          remark of Voltaire.
          
        
        The sins of M. Guizot are of omission rather than of
          commission. His well-known Histoire de la civilization en Europe is open to two criticisms. In the
          first place, it is not what it professes to be,—a history of European
          civilization,—for it only deals with western Europe. But, waiving this, the
          author entirely ignores one of the most important and essential factors in the
          development of civilization in western Europe—the influence of the later Roman
          Empire and New Rome. On this subject I may refer the reader to the concluding
          chapter of my second volume; I mention it here because M. Guizot's
          extraordinary omission was clearly due to the inveterate prejudice that the
          Byzantine Empire' and all things appertaining thereto, may be safely neglected.
          
        
        In his History of European Morals Mr. Lecky writes:
          “Of that Byzantine Empire the universal verdict of history is that it
          constitutes, with scarcely an exception the most thoroughly base and despicable
          form that civilization has yet assumed”. I am not sure what Mr. Lecky means by
  "the universal verdict of history"; in recent years, certainly, the
          Younger Rome has found some staunch and eminent champions. But I am sure that
          the statement fairly represents the notions generally prevalent on the subject.
          
        
        All this shows that Byzantine is a dangerous word, when it
          is used in a political sense. It is convenient and harmless to talk about
          Byzantine art or even "la vie byzantine", but it is dangerous to talk
          about a Byzantine Empire; for if we do so we run the risk of provoking
          universal verdicts of history. It might therefore be advisable, even if this
          were the only ground for doing so, to abandon the name and elude hard sentences
          by leading the accused forth under a different appellation. But it is not the
          only or the most important ground; as we have already seen, the name is
          improper, and it is therefore not only advisable but necessary to discard it.
          
        
        I have been obliged to dwell at some length on a matter of
          nomenclature. I must add a few words on the scope of these two volumes, which,
          I venture to hope, may have some value as a very modest contribution to the
          study of a period which is too little known. They cover the four centuries
          during which the transition from the ancient world to the medieval world may be
          said to have taken place. Ancient and medieval are vague terms, but,
          whatever latitude we give them, we can hardly apply
          the term medieval to the fourth century or the term ancient to the
          eighth. In the year 395 AD the Empire was intact, but with the fifth century
          its dismemberment began; and 395 AD is consequently a convenient date to adopt
          as a starting-point. I propose to trace briefly the history of its
          dismemberment by the Germans, then more fully its recovery under Justinian, its
          decline after Justinian, and its redintegration in the eighth
          century; making the fall of Irene m 802 AD my point of termination, because it
          happens to be conveniently close in time to the foundation of the rival Roman
          Empire in 800 AD. The coronation of Charles the Great marks a new departure in
          European history, and it therefore forms, as Arnold recognized, a suitable end
          as well as a suitable beginning. After 800 there are two Roman Empires; and the
          history of the successors of Irene would naturally occupy a separate book,
          entitled A History of the Eastern Roman Empire.
          
        
        The history of the fifth century is better known, and has
          been more thoroughly worked up than that of its successors. I have therefore
          treated it with comparative brevity, and omitted many of the details, which the
          reader may find in the works of Gibbon and Mr. Hodgkin. In fact, I originally
          intended to treat the dismemberment of the Empire by the Germans and the
          fortunes of the houses of Theodosius and Leo I as a mere introduction to a
          history of the subsequent period. But I was carried further than I intended,
          and the result considerably exceeds the limits of an introduction, while it is
          something less than a co-ordinate part of the work. The dismemberment of the
          Empire by the Germans brings us into contact with the nations who dismembered
          it, and tempts a writer to stray into the domains which have been so fully
          surveyed by Dahn in his Konige der Germanen. I have been careful not to yield to
          this temptation; I have avoided episodes and digressions; and have not
          concerned myself with tracing the doubtful antecedents of the various nations who
          settled in the Roman provinces. In fact, I have tried to trespass as little as
          possible on the field occupied by Dahn in Germany and by Mr. Hodgkin
          in England.
          
        
        Coming to the sixth century, my account of the reconquest
          of Italy by Belisarius and Narses is compressed; while I have narrated fully
          the Persian wars on the Euphrates and in Colchis. As far as I am aware, no
          complete account of the latter has ever been published in an English form,
          Gibbon's treatment being nothing more than a sketch; while as to the former,
          after the brilliant fourth volume of Mr. Hodgkin's Italy and her Invaders, one
          could not think of rewriting all the details. But, notwithstanding, a critic
          may charge me with want of proportion, and ask why I occupy considerable space
          with the details of wars, which, even for special historians, have been almost
          buried in oblivion, and at the same time content myself with only a general
          account of the famous Italian campaigns of Belisarius. My reply is that I am
          concerned with the history of the Roman Empire, and not with the history of
          Italy or of the West; and the events on the Persian frontier were of vital
          consequence for the very existence of the Roman Empire, while the events in
          Italy were, for it, of only secondary importance. Of course Italy was a part of
          the Empire; but it was outlying—its loss or recovery affected the Roman
          Republic (strange to say!) in a far less degree than other losses or gains. And
          just as the historian of modern England may leave the details of Indian affairs
          to the special historian of India, so a general historian of the Roman Empire
          may, after the fifth century, leave the details of Italian affairs to the
          special historian of Italy. It seemed to me that the real want of proportion
          would have been to reproduce at length the Gothica of
          Procopius and neglect his Persica.
          
        
        On the same principle I have given a detailed narrative (I
          believe for the first time) of the somewhat tedious wars in the Balkan
          peninsula at the end of the sixth century, described by Theophylactus.
          Ranke deplored the want of an essay concerning the invasions
          of Avars and Slaves in the reign of Maurice; the learned and
          patient Hopf went hopelessly astray over
          the curious sentences of an "Attic" euphuist; and these facts induce
          me to hope that some future historian, repelled equally by an ancient language
          and an affected style, may applaud a predecessor for having reproduced most of
          the details in bald English.
          
        
        The Church was so closely connected with the State that the
          ecclesiastical element cannot be ignored in histories that are not
          ecclesiastical; but I have endeavoured to encroach on this ground as little as
          possible. As time went on, the influence of the Greek Church became stronger,
          and consequently, with each succeeding century, church affairs claim a larger
          measure of a historian's attention. Hence in the latter part of this work the
          reader may expect to find more information on ecclesiastical matters than in
          the earlier.
          
        
        The short chapters on life and manners consist of jottings,
          which could not be conveniently introduced into the narrative, and were too
          characteristic to be omitted; they do not aim at any standard of completeness.
          
        
        Both historians and classical scholars are divided on the
          question of the transliteration of Greek names. To be thoroughly consistent in
          the "new" spelling, one would have to speak not only of Athenai,
          but of Konstantinupolis and Rhodos.
          Such apparitions on the pages of a book are intolerable to plain readers; and
          special difficulties arise in the case of Roman names of Greek-speaking
          individuals. I determined finally to be consistently Roman rather than either
          consistently or inconsistently Greek, and use, except in a few cases, the Latin
          forms, which, justified by the custom of many centuries, are more familiar to the
          eye. In some obvious cases, of course, it would be pedantic not to use forms
          which are neither Greek nor Latin, such as Constantine, Rhodes, or Rome. I
          confess that I was at first tempted to adopt the plausible compromise of Mr.
          Freeman; but an admirable article in the Fortnightly Review for January 1888,
          by Mr. E. Y. Tyrrell, confirmed me in the course which I have pursued. On the
          other hand, I have adopted Mr. Freeman's way of spelling Slave (for Slav).
          Speaking of Mr. Freeman, I am impelled to add that his brilliant and
          stimulating essays first taught me in all its bearings the truth that the Roman
          Empire is the key to European history.
          
        
        In conclusion, I have to record my thanks to my wife, who
          contributes a chapter on "Byzantine Art", and to Professor Mahaffy for
          his assistance in revising the proof-sheets and for valuable suggestions and
          corrections.
          
        
        J. B.
          BURY.
          
        
         
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