The whole structure collapsed spectacularly. Soldier heaped upon soldier fell into the rushing river and drowned. Others, desperate to save their lives, tried to cross the original bridge. The route was too narrow and they were crushed to death. After the mayhem of the rout had subsided, the banks of the Tiber were littered with thousands of anonymous corpses. One of them, however, was distinguishable by his high-ranking clothes. These clung to the dead body of Maxentius.
The general Constantine had won his greatest military victory. He was now sole ruler of the western empire, and he had achieved the knockout blow under the favour, protection and patronage of the Christian God. His success, it seemed, was thanks to Him. However, Constantine’s personal conversion, if indeed he had already converted, had been the easy part. Translating his new religion into the world of Roman politics, to the emperors of the east, and to the pagan majority of Romans throughout the empire was another matter altogether. As it happens, Constantine had only scratched the surface in invoking the protection of God. Although he did not yet know it, the full potential of his new allegiance was yet to be tapped.
LICINIUS, BROTHER IN ARMS
When Constantine the liberator entered Rome, he passed through a pleasant blizzard of incense, flowers and the bright faces of men, women and children shouting his name. They thronged in their thousands to greet him, and joined the celebration ‘as if released from a cage’.25 Constantine rode in a chariot, and in the procession following him the head of Maxentius was prominently displayed on a spear. The people greeted the dead tyrant with vitriolic abuse. By contrast, gifts of money distributed by soldiers into the eager hands of hungry Romans were met with cheers. However, despite the jubilation of Constantine’s victory march, the successful general knew that this was no ordinary triumphal procession.
In reality, he was not simply riding into Rome – he was walking a political tightrope. He owed his victory to the Christian God; the followers of that God would now expect him to find a suitable way of recognizing that fact. Yet at the same time the emperor was entering the ancient city of the traditional pagan gods, the seat of the Roman senators who upheld those traditional beliefs. To them and the majority of Romans, the Christians were nothing more than a strange alien group whose behaviour was highly suspect. They renounced slavery; they led a humble, ascetic and pleasureless existence; they believed in a heaven after death; and, for some strange reason, they prized sexual chastity as a virtue. Pleasing both these audiences was not going to be easy for the new emperor of the west. By both pagan senators and the Christians, Constantine’s every action was going to be very closely observed.
For the traditionalists, matters did not start well. Many senators, to their disgust and horror, would have noticed that the military standards borne into the Forum as part of the procession were certainly not those they were expecting to see. These ones bore the symbol of Christ. But this was not to be the most unwelcome surprise in store for them. After Constantine had exchanged the cuirass and sword belt of a general for the purple toga, rods of office and laurel crown of an emperor, the crowds waited expectantly for him to perform the customary sacrifices to Jupiter. The priests prepared the sacrificial animal, but Constantine hesitated. He was fearful of his soldiers’ reponse if he refused to participate, but knew that it was not to this deity that he owed thanks. Eventually, he refused to ascend the Capitol to oversee the sacrifice. He did not place a laurel wreath in the Temple of Jupiter, and neither did he take any part in paying tribute to the pagan deity.26 After these affronts to Rome’s traditional past, he would need every bit of political nous when facing his next hurdle: a meeting in the Senate House.
Constantine broke the ice by painting his predecessor as a monster. The regime of Maxentius, he began tactfully, was the responsibility of the tyrant and a few of his henchmen. It was not the responsibility of Rome at large. In this way the senators who had collaborated with Maxentius were excused their guilt. The emperor was equally deft in dealing with Maxentius’s army: the compromised Praetorian Guard was to be redeployed on Rome’s frontiers. Facing barbarian enemies would be a sure-fire way for them to rediscover their loyalty to the emperor. However, Constantine went much further than excusing the senators and the army: he declared that he wanted to restore their prestige. Under his new regime he would restore authority and responsibility to the Senate. Senators would no longer rest on the laurels of rank and privilege. They, and not just men promoted from the army, would be given an active hand in government once again – as provincial governors, as prefects of Rome, as judges and holders of office.27 Although this process would actually take place gradually over the years to come, for the moment Constantine had struck just the right note.
In one fell swoop he had extinguished the memory of Maxentius and successfully boosted unity by proposing to make the landed aristocracy of the west his partners. In return, the senators reciprocated his trust. Constantine was declared sole emperor of the west. He received a golden shield and wreath as liberator of Italy, and a statue of Victory was dedicated in his honour in the Senate House. As a final tribute, the grand Basilica Nova adjoining the Forum, which had begun construction under Maxentius, was now completed and dedicated to Constantine. With this last honour, his new recognition of the Christians would be clearly expressed. A colossal statue representing him was to be set up in the west apse, and the statue’s hand was to hold the military standard bearing the symbol of Christ.
Over the next few months Constantine remained in Rome. They were critical, highly influential months. It was perhaps during this time that he began to think through what had happened during the battle of Milvian Bridge, what the implication of God’s favour on him might be. Perhaps he took an active interest in finding out more about the Christians. Perhaps he visited their communities and discovered how they lived. We know that he invited Christian ministers and bishops to be his guests at dinner during this time. Perhaps Lactantius and Ossius were present too. Certainly the Christians who had travelled unofficially in his entourage on campaign were now promoted to hold the more official posts of court advisers on Church politics and practice during the winter of 312–13. Whatever Constantine discussed with those men in private, it would not be long before the fruits of their deliberations were revealed very publicly.
As Constantine prepared to leave Rome for Milan in mid-January 313, he could look back with pride on a successful few months in the old imperial capital. The clever balancing act between pagans and Christians had so far been expertly and delicately handled. With Rome now rebranded and reconciled, the emperor had successfully consolidated his power in the western half of the empire. Now he set about bringing peace and unity to the east. To that effect, he sent a letter to the eastern emperor. It was a shot across Maximinus Daia’s bows. It informed him of Constantine’s new status in the west as conferred by the Senate. It also revealed the western emperor’s new religious loyalty by warning Daia to stop persecuting Christians in his domain. However, to bring him to heel, Constantine needed help. He had in mind a new alliance, one to be cemented in the traditional way. The emperor and his entourage set off for Milan: Constantine had a wedding to attend.