Chapter XIV (2)

Whatever was the origin and progress of the quarrel, we find in the early part of the sixth century the blue and green factions inveterately opposed to each other; the red having merged in the green, and the white in the blue. In the reign of Anastasius, the greens having brought concealed weapons into the theatre, massacred at once 3000 of their blue adversaries. A soldier of fortune, named Justin, succeeded Anastasius, and was succeeded by his own nephew, Justinian, during whose reign the blue faction gained the ascendancy: “A secret attachment to the family or sect of Anastasius was imputed to the greens; the blues were zealously devoted to the cause of orthodoxy and Justinian, and their grateful patron protected, above five years, the disorders of a faction, whose seasonable tumults overawed the palace, the senate, and capitals of the East.”[65] “In every city,” says the contemporary Procopius, “the people are from old time split into two factions, of the blue and green; but it is not long since this frenzy first possessed them, that in the cause of these names and colours in which they appear at the public games, they will spend their substance, expose their bodies to the bitterest indignities, and even consent to die by a shameful death. And while they fight with the opposite party they cannot tell the nature of their quarrel; being at the same time aware that even if they get the upper hand in battle, they will then be led to prison, and suffer a death of the worst tortures. This hatred of one man to another springs up without cause; but it remains endless, yielding neither to the rights of kindred or friendship, even though brethren, or such near relations, be partisans of these colours. And so long as their faction may have the uppermost, they care neither for things human nor divine, whether there be any impiety offered towards God, or whether the laws and government be violated by friend or enemy. For being themselves probably in want of common necessaries, they care not however deeply their country be injured, so long as their own party is likely to thrive by it. And even women share in this taint, not merely following their husbands, but even opposing them (if it shall so chance), though they go never to the theatres, and are not therefore excited by any such motives. So that I can call this nothing better than a disease of the mind.”[66]

“In the Anecdotes, he speaks again, and more fully, of the excesses committed by the blues under the protection of Justinian.

“They dressed their hair in a manner new to the Romans, letting the moustache and beard grow to an extreme length, like the Persians, while they shaved the fore part of their heads to the very temples, leaving it to grow as long and thick as it liked behind, in imitation of the Massagetæ, after whom they called this the Hunnish mode. In dress they affected a splendour beyond their means, defraying the cost at other men’s expense. Their sleeves were made very close at the wrist, but up towards the shoulder they spread to an unutterable breadth.[67] So that in the theatre or hippodrome as often as they moved their hands in shouting, or encouraging others, as was their custom, they usually raised the limb to make fools think their bodies so robust, as that a garment of that size was necessary; not perceiving that by the emptiness of the garment the spareness of the body was the more shown. At first they carried arms, by night openly, and by day wore double–edged daggers concealed under their clothes; and coming out in companies as it grew dark, they stripped the better sort either in the open market or in passages, robbing those who fell into their hands of cloaks, golden brooches, or whatever else it might be. And some they even killed after robbing them, that they might tell no tales. By these doings all men were much grieved, and especially those that were not of the blue faction (for even they themselves went not scot–free), and from thenceforth men wore brass brooches, and girdles and cloaks beneath their condition.... There was no known crime which at this time was not committed and left unpunished. First they only killed their adversaries, then advancing in guilt they slew those who never had offended them. Many hired them to take off an enemy, which they did under pretence that the dead man was of the green party, though really he were quite unknown to them. And these things were not done in darkness as before, but in every hour of the day and place of the city, and before the eyes of the most eminent men: for being in no fear of punishment they cared not for concealment; but rather esteemed it a glory to those who laid claim to strength and manhood, that at one blow they could kill any unarmed person who came across them. In this slippery conjuncture no one had any hope of surviving; for no place was strong, no season sacred enough to warrant security; for even in the most honoured temples and assemblies men were slain, and no account taken of them. There was no more trusting either in friends or relations, for many perished by those who were nearest to them. And no inquiry was made into what had been done, but evil fell without warning, and no one helped him that was down. Law and contracts were no longer binding; every thing went according to the will of the strongest, and the state was like an unestablished tyranny, continually passing into new hands and beginning afresh. The minds of the authorities seemed to be amazed and enslaved by fear of one man; and the judges determined causes not according to law and justice, but as the parties in the suit were in good or bad odour with the parties in the state. For it was a capital offence that a judge should controvert the orders of the ruling party, the blues.”[68]

Such was the state of Constantinople, the blues exulting in the royal favour, when, in January, 532, the citizens were assembled in the hippodrome, the Emperor himself presiding over the games. The green faction disturbed the peace of the assembly by complaints, until at length Justinian was induced to enter into a parley with them by the voice of an officer called Mandator, a sort of civil aide–de–camp, whose duty was to receive and transmit his sovereign’s orders. The dialogue which ensued is justly characterized by Gibbon, who has only given a short specimen of it, as the most singular that ever passed between a prince and his subjects.

We may premise, to account for the strange and unintelligible turn of many of the sentences, that the original is written in the corrupt Greek popularly spoken at Constantinople in the sixth century, and is full of allusions to which we possess no key, and words which the lexicographers have not explained, and sentences in which it is not possible to make out any grammatical construction. These difficulties, however, make the passage the more curious; inasmuch as they give reason to suppose that the dialogue was taken down as it occurred, and has not been polished in passing through the hands of historians.

_Green._ Long may you live, august Justinian. I am aggrieved, thou only good one, I cannot bear it. God knows, I dare not name him, lest it turn to his advantage and to my peril.

_Mandator._ Who is he? I know not.

_Green._ He who wrongs me will be found among the shoemakers,[69] thrice august.

_Mand._ No one wrongs you.

_Green._ One, and one only wrongs me. Mother of God, may he never lift his head again!

_Mand._ What man is he? I know not.

_Green._ You, and you only know, august Justinian, who wrongs me to–day.

_Mand._ If in truth there be any, I know him not.

_Green._ Calopodius, the armour–bearer, wrongs me, Master of all.

_Mand._ Calopodius has no employment.

_Green._ Be he who he may, he shall die the death of Judas! God repay him his injuries to me, and that quickly!

_Mand._ You come, not to the games, but to insult your rulers.

_Green._ If any wrong me, he shall die the death of Judas!

_Mand._ Be quiet, ye Jews, Manichæans, and Samaritans.

_Green._ Jews are we, and Samaritans? the mother of God is with all.

_Mand._ How long will you heap curses on yourselves?

_Green._ If any deny that our master believes rightly, let him be accursed like Judas!

_Mand._ I tell you to be baptized in the name of one.

This seems to be a theological gibe at the unorthodox party, which they repel with anger. There is an ambiguity in the reply, which it is not easy to translate, because, from the corruption of the text, or from the debased Greek in which the dialogue is chiefly written, we can come to no certain conclusion as to the real meaning. They express their willingness to be baptized according to order, and use a word which has been interpreted either to mean “Bring water,” or to confer on Justinian the appellation of “Pump.” There certainly was something in it which raised the Emperor’s wrath, and extracted from him a reply more to the purpose than any yet made.

_Mand._ In truth, if you are not quiet I will cut off your heads.

_Green._ Every one seeks power for his own safety, and if we speak because of our affliction, let not your greatness be indignant, for God endures all of us. We having cause for what we say, give to every thing its right name. We know not, thrice august, where the palace is, nor the condition of the state. We go not into the city, except to lay snares against the ass,[70] and I wish we went not for that, thrice august.

_Mand._ Every free man appears where he will, without danger.

_Green._ I hope I am free, yet I cannot appear without danger. And if a man is free, if he be suspected to be green, he shall be openly punished.

_Mand._ Hang–dogs, have you no mercy on your own lives?

_Green._ Abolish our colour—justice is at an end. Cease yourself from slaughter; then go to, we will be punished. See that blood–streaming fountain, and then punish whom you will. Verily human nature cannot bear these two things at once! O that Sabbatius[71] had never been born, then would he never have begotten such a murderer. This is the twenty–sixth murder that is done at Zeugma. In the morning he was at the theatre, in the evening he was slain, Master of all!

_Blue._ You alone contain all the murderers of this stadium.

_Green._ When do you depart without slaughter?

_Blue._ You slay and disturb us; for you alone contain all the murderers of the stadium.

_Green._ Justinian, master, they provoke and no one kills them. One cannot choose but understand this. Who killed the carpenter at Zeugma?

_Mand._ You did.

_Green._ Who killed the son of Epagathus, O Emperor?

_Blue._ You murdered him, and you accuse the blues.

_Green._ Now the Lord pity us! Truth is oppressed. I should like to enter into controversy with those who say that God directs affairs. Whence this misery?

_Mand._ God is not tempted by evil. (_Θέος κακῶν ἀπέιραστος_)

_Green._ God is not tempted by evil. And who then is it that wrongs me? If there be here philosopher or hermit, let him distinguish between the two.

_Mand._ Blasphemers, odious to God, when will you cease?

_Green._ If your greatness wishes it I keep quiet, though against my will. Thrice august, I know all—all—but I am silent. Justice, farewell, your time is up. I change sides and turn Jew; nay, better to turn Gentile than blue, God knows.

_Blue._ May I never see such a pollution! their envy troubles me.

_Green._ Dig up the bones of the spectators.[72]

After this the green party quitted the hippodrome, and left there the Emperor and the blues. The sequel may warn sovereigns against encouraging faction for their own ends. At this moment seven notorious murderers of both factions were paraded through the city previous to their execution. Five were immediately put to death, the other two obtained a respite by the breaking of the rope which should have hanged them. One of these surviving wretches belonged to the blue, the other to the green faction; and the parties forgot their enmity for a time to join in taking vengeance upon the government, which durst do justice upon their members. The consequence was a desperate tumult and insurrection, which lasted five days, during which a great part of the city was burnt; and which is known by the name of Nika, Conquer, from the watchword adopted by the rioters. For the history of it we must refer to Gibbon, or to the original authorities quoted by him, especially Procopius (Pers. i. 24) and Theophanes. At length Justinian found means to revive the mutual animosity of the factions; the blues resumed their allegiance to their protector, and the greens, left alone in the hippodrome, were attacked by the veteran troops of Belisarius, supported by their inveterate opponents. More than 30,000 persons are said to have perished in the massacre.

A curious anecdote connected with this subject is related elsewhere by Procopius. When Chosroes, the King of Persia, invaded Syria, he went to Apamea to see the sports of the circus; and having heard of Justinian’s devotion to the blue faction, he thought it expedient to patronize the green. The blue charioteer at first had the advantage, the green following close upon his track. Chosroes thinking this was done on purpose to thwart him, became very angry, and cried out with threats, that it was not fair to give Cæsar the start,[73] and ordered the foremost to hold in their horses, and let the green get before them. This was done, and Chosroes and the greens plumed themselves on their victory.

The other example which we proposed to bring forward, which probably has already suggested itself to many of our readers, is one of the most memorable events of the French Revolution, the massacre of September 2–6, 1792. A short preface may serve to introduce it, since the history of the Revolution is pretty generally familiar.

In the summer of 1792 the executive power of the state was in effect wrested from the nominal authority, the Legislative Assembly, by a body of men styled the Commune, who had possessed themselves of the municipal government of Paris. In this body the leading persons were the flagitious triumvirate, Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. It is needless to speculate on the motives of such men. Whether the deed which we are about to relate was perpetrated only to further the ends of their party; whether, as some have said, it was prompted by the desire to get rid of those who might lay claim to a large mass of valuable personal property which had been seized from persons who had been denounced and arrested, and is said to have been embezzled by those disinterested patriots; or whether it were prompted solely by a savage thirst for blood:—which of these, or what other motive was the moving cause of this transaction, is of so little consequence towards determining its character, that it would be a waste of words to institute the inquiry. We proceed briefly to relate the facts.

At the end of August, 1792, the invasion of the Prussians, their advance to Verdun, and the capture of that strong place, created a great panic in the capital. Apprehensions were felt or expressed of a corresponding movement within the country on the part of the royalists, and the stern Danton asserted, in boding words, that it was necessary to strike fear into those who were disaffected to the republic. Before this time many _aristocrats_, chiefly priests and nobles, had been confined within the various prisons of Paris. Their numbers were now increased to a fearful extent by recent arrests of persons adverse to the Jacobin party, which then ruled in the Commune, until all these receptacles of human misery were filled to overflowing. The near approach of the Prussians was doubly favourable to the views of that party; it gave a colourable pretext for taking strong measures against all who could be represented as favouring the views of the invaders, and a reason for summoning to the field the citizens who could be called on to bear arms. The city being thus cleared of a large portion of those who were most able, and probably most inclined to interfere by force in the cause of justice and humanity, a free and safe course was left open to the fury of that turbulent party, whose yoke bore so heavy upon the liberated nation. It was determined by the junta in authority, that the safety of France required the massacre of the prisoners; and in the Marseillois and the mob of the capital, fit agents of the bloody mandate were readily found.

The total number of persons confined in the Parisian prisons is so differently stated that it is no easy matter even to approximate to the truth; it is estimated by Scott (vol. ii. p. 41) at about 8000. Early on the morning of September 2, news arrived of the capture of Verdun by the Prussians. This struck a terror into Paris, by which the projectors of the massacre hastened to profit. The barriers were shut, the tocsin sounded, the alarm–gun fired. The prisons of Les Carmes, the Abbaye, and La Force, were first attacked, not in consequence of any general popular impulse; not by multitudes, such as had carried the Bastille and the Tuileries against superior arms and discipline; but by a crew of ruffians, composed partly of Marseillois, partly of the savage mob of Paris, in number not perhaps much exceeding a hundred, and goaded, it is said, with wine and spirits mixed with stimulating and maddening drugs. Armed with pikes, sabres, and similar weapons, they beset the prison doors to the sound of the Marseillois hymn, and demanded that the conspirators, as they called them, should be delivered into their hands: and the gaolers offered no resistance to their entrance.

Les Carmes, the Carmelite convent, had been converted into a prison for suspected ecclesiastics. This was the first object of attack; and, without parley, or the pretence of trial or inquiry, the murderers burst in and began to fire on their victims. “Where,” it was asked, “is the Archbishop of Arles?” That prelate advanced boldly, and was cut down without his uttering a word of complaint. Others were hunted round the gardens, and shot like wild beasts; some escaped over the walls. At last, to proceed in a more orderly manner, and give less opportunity for escape, the survivors were all collected in the church, and led down two by two to be executed in the garden. The Bishop of Saintes, whose leg had been broken by a bullet, is reported to have said, “Gentlemen, I am ready to go and die, like the rest; but you see the state in which I am, my leg is broken; I beg that you will assist me, and I will go willingly to execution.” The difficulty of obtaining correct information concerning these events may be estimated from the statements of the number of ecclesiastics who perished in Les Carmes. A royalist account raises it to 1168, a republican account reduces it to 163.[74] If it were necessary to make choice of either, we should not hesitate to adopt the smaller number.

The Abbaye and La Force were the next objects of attack. Here there was some mockery of judicial observances. The form of trial was brief enough; a few armed ruffians constituted themselves a tribunal, before which the prisoners were led one by one. The investigation seldom went much beyond asking the name of the person, and referring to the charges alleged against him in the gaoler’s register. If these afforded ground for the suspicion of incivism, and the judges, as was almost always the case, decreed his death, their sentence, to prevent the dangerous efforts of despair, was conveyed in the equivocal terms, “Give the prisoner freedom,” or, “Convey him to La Force,” if he were confined at the Abbaye, and _vice versâ_. He was then led from the room, and struck down, for the most part, before he reached the court–yard, with eager cruelty. Women as well as men mingled in this frightful scene, and inflicted the most loathsome indignities on the mangled bodies.

These proceedings were virtually authorized and encouraged by the presence of deputies from the Commune, wearing the municipal scarf, but nominally charged to select and deliver those who were imprisoned for debt. Not content with this negative sanction, Billaud Varennes, who was one of them, openly stimulated the murderers, promising them not only the plunder of the dead bodies, but the further gratification of a louis per day, as the reward of their good service. And it appears from the records of the time, that this money was actually paid. Yet much of the trifling property found on the persons of the slain was delivered up, it is said, for the use of the state; as if the actors of these horrors, by some strange caprice, had professed to be really disinterested.

An officer named Saint Méard, who was confined in the Abbaye, has written, under the title, ‘Mon Agonie de trente–huit heures,’ an account of the feelings and conduct of the prisoners during the frightful period of suspense, which elapsed between the commencement of the massacres, and the moment when the fatal summons reached each of the sufferers. “Our most important occupation,” he says, “was to observe in what manner death might be met most easily when we should enter the place of slaughter. From time to time we sent one of our number to a turret–window, to let us know how the miserable men who were destroyed met their fate, and to consider, from what they told us, how it would be best for us to conduct ourselves. They said that those who stretched out their hands protracted their sufferings, because the sabre–strokes were deadened before they reached the head: that sometimes their hands and arms were even hewn off before they fell, and that those who placed their hands behind their backs would suffer least. It was on such horrid particulars as these that we had to deliberate. We calculated the advantages of this last–named position, and in turn advised each other to assume it when our turn should arrive.” It is hard to conceive a situation more trying to human fortitude. The prisoners generally met their fate with firmness, and in many instances boldly avowed and gloried in the principles and hereditary honours which were the sure passports to their fate. In some few instances the murderers relented. One or two men were preserved by the devoted interposition of female relatives. But very few of those who were imprisoned on political grounds lived to relate the horrors which they had passed through. Saint Méard, although he boldly avowed himself a royalist, was one of the number.[75]

For four days did this frightful scene continue, unsanctioned by authority, save the instigation and half–expressed approbation of the Commune, perpetrated by an insignificant mob, who, with the smallest portion of energy, might have been overpowered at once. The Legislative Assembly sent some of their members to remonstrate; men known as Jacobins, who came back, and related that their interference had been ineffectual, and no further steps were taken. The National Guard remained quiet, waiting the orders of their superiors. Meanwhile, amid this fear or lethargy, for neither the Assembly nor the Guard viewed this butchery with favourable eyes, the judges and executioners ate, drank, and slept, and returned unmolested and with new vigour to their several functions.

The thirst of blood, once indulged, appears to have given rise to a sort of intoxication. The mob attacked even the Bicêtre, a prison containing none but criminals and lunatics. Here only they experienced resistance; and the resistance was desperate. The gaolers made common cause with the prisoners against the assailants; the stones and iron bars of the building supplying them with weapons. They made good their defence until cannon were brought against them, and they were mowed down in the mass.

Of the number of persons who perished in this fearful scene no exact account has ever been given. It is said, however, that not more than 200 or 300 of the prisoners committed for political offences are known to have escaped; and on the smallest reckoning the slain amounted to 2000 or 3000. Some estimate them at double that number. Truchat stated to the Legislative Assembly that 4000 had fallen. One statement, which is introduced only to show the tendency to exaggeration in these matters, raised the number to 12,800. Those who were imprisoned for debt were set free by order of the Commune; and to these we must look to make up the difference between the number of the slain and the total number of 8000, said to have been in prison on September 2. The bodies were interred in trenches, prepared, it is said, beforehand by the Commune, but their bones were subsequently transferred to the Catacombs. “In these melancholy regions, while other relics of mortality lie exposed all around, the remains of those who perished in the massacres of September are alone excluded from the public eye. The vault in which they repose is closed with a screen of freestone, as if relating to crimes unfit to be thought of even in the proper abode of death, and which France would willingly hide in oblivion.”[76]