Constantine’s Victory at Rome

So it was that Constantine—whom we have already described as an emperor born of an emperor, the pious son of a most pious father who was in every way most self-controlled—and Licinius, next in rank after him, two emperors loved by God and honored alike for their understanding and their piety, were stirred up by God, the King of all, the God and Savior of the universe, against the two most impious tyrants, and drew up for war in due form. God fought on their side in a most extraordinary way. Maxentius fell at Rome at the hands of Constantine; and the tyrant of the East did not long outlive him, but he too came to a most shameful death at the hands of Licinius, who had not yet gone mad. [a] Constantine, who was first both in honor and in imperial rank, was the first to take pity on those who were oppressed by the tyranny at Rome. In prayer he called on the God of heaven and his Word, that is, Jesus Christ himself, the Savior of all, as his ally, and advanced with his whole army, seeking to win back for the Romans the freedom they had inherited from their ancestors. [e]

Maxentius trusted in the devices of sorcery rather than in the goodwill of his subjects, and did not dare to go even a step beyond the gates of the city. Instead he fortified every place, district and town that he held enslaved, around Rome and throughout Italy, with a countless multitude of troops and innumerable companies of soldiers. But the emperor, relying on the alliance of God, attacked the tyrant’s first, second and third armies, overcame them all completely, and advanced across the greater part of Italy until he was already very close to Rome itself. Then, so that he would not be forced to make war on the Romans for the tyrant’s sake, God himself dragged the tyrant, as if bound in chains, far out beyond the gates. And the things written long ago in the sacred books against the wicked—disbelieved by most people as a mere tale, but believed by the faithful—God confirmed by the plain event itself to everyone, in a word, believers and unbelievers alike, who saw the wonder with their own eyes. [f]

Just as in the days of Moses himself and of the Hebrew race that worshiped God of old, “Pharaoh’s chariots and his army he threw into the sea; his chosen riders, his captains, were swallowed up in the Red Sea; the sea covered them,” so in the same way Maxentius, and the soldiers and bodyguards around him, “went down into the depths like a stone,” when he turned his back before the power from God that was with Constantine and was crossing the river that lay in his path. He himself had yoked it with boats and bridged it well, and so had built the engine of his own destruction. [g] Of him one could say: “He dug a pit and hollowed it out, and he will fall into the hole he made. His trouble will return on his own head, and his injustice will come down on his own crown.” [i]

So the bridge over the river broke apart, the crossing sank, and at once the boats went down into the deep, men and all. First went that most impious man himself, and then the shield-bearers around him, just as the divine oracles foretell: “They sank like lead in the mighty water.” So it was fitting that those who had won the victory from God, if not in words then at least in deeds, should sing like those who were with Moses, the great servant of God, the very words that were sung against the impious tyrant of old: “Let us sing to the Lord, for he is gloriously glorified; horse and rider he has thrown into the sea. The Lord is my helper and my shelter; he has become my rescue.” And: “Who is like you among the gods, Lord? Who is like you—glorified in holiness, wonderful in glories, doing marvels?” [j]

These praises, and others akin to them and like them, Constantine sang by his very deeds to God, the Ruler of all and the cause of his victory, and he rode into Rome in triumph. All of them together, with their little children and their wives—the members of the senate, the other most distinguished men, and the whole Roman people—welcomed him with shining eyes and with all their hearts, with acclamations and boundless joy, as their deliverer, savior and benefactor. But he, as one whose reverence for God was inborn, was not in the least shaken by the shouting, nor lifted up by the praise. He knew well that his help had come from God, and at once he ordered that a trophy of the saving passion be placed in the hand of his own statue. He ordered the statue to be set up in the most public place in Rome, holding the saving sign in its right hand, and this very inscription to be engraved on it, in these very words, in the language of the Romans: [l] “By this saving sign, the true proof of courage, I have saved your city and freed it from the yoke of the tyrant; and further, I have set free the senate and the people of Rome and restored them to their ancient fame and splendor.” [m]

After this, Constantine himself, and with him the emperor Licinius—whose mind had not yet turned to the madness into which he later fell—having won the favor of God, the cause of all their blessings, both with one will and one purpose drew up a law on behalf of the Christians, most complete and in the fullest terms. They sent an account of the extraordinary things God had done for them, and of the victory over the tyrant, together with the law itself, to Maximin, who still ruled over the nations of the East and was pretending to be their friend. [n] He, like the tyrant he was, was deeply pained at what he learned. But he did not want to seem to give way to others, nor, on the other hand, to suppress what had been ordered, for fear of those who had ordered it. So, under compulsion, and as if on his own authority, he wrote to the governors under him this first letter on behalf of the Christians—telling lies against himself about things he had never done. [q]

“Jovius Maximinus Augustus to Sabinus. I am confident that it is clear both to Your Firmness and to all people that our masters Diocletian and Maximian, our fathers, when they saw that almost everyone was abandoning the worship of the gods and joining themselves to the people of the Christians, rightly ordered that all who had turned away from the worship of those same immortal gods should be called back to the worship of the gods by open chastisement and punishment. [r] But when I first came to the East, with good fortune, and learned that in some places a great many people who were able to serve the public good were being banished by the judges for the reason given above, I gave orders to each of the judges that from then on none of them should treat the provincials harshly, but should rather call them back to the worship of the gods by flattery and exhortation. So, while these orders were kept by the judges as I had commanded, it came about that no one in the regions of the East was banished or insulted, but that, because nothing harsh was done to them, they were rather brought back to the worship of the gods.

But afterward, when last year, with good fortune, I went up to Nicomedia and was staying there, citizens of that city came to me with the images of the gods, earnestly asking that such a people should by no means be allowed to live in their homeland. [t] But when I learned that very many men of that same religion lived in those very regions, I gave them this answer: that I gladly thanked them for their request, but saw that it had not been made by all. If, then, there were some who persisted in that superstition, each one should keep to his own choice as he wished, and, if they were willing, acknowledge the worship of the gods. Nevertheless, I thought it necessary to give a friendly answer to the people of Nicomedia and to the other cities, which had made the same request of me so earnestly—namely, that no Christian should live in their cities. For all the emperors of old had kept to this very course, and it was pleasing to the gods themselves, through whom all people and the government of the state itself endure, that I should confirm such a request, made on behalf of the worship of their deity.

Therefore, although letters have been sent before this to Your Devotedness, and orders likewise given, that nothing harsh should be done to those provincials who choose to keep such a custom, but that they should be treated with forbearance and moderation, nevertheless, so that they may not suffer insults or extortion from the beneficiarii or from anyone else whatever, I have thought it right to remind Your Firmness in this letter as well that you should lead our provincials to acknowledge the care of the gods rather by flattery and exhortation. [u] So if anyone of his own choice decides to take up the worship of the gods, he should be welcomed; but if some wish to follow their own religion, you are to leave it in their power. Your Devotedness must therefore keep what has been entrusted to you, and no one is to be given power to oppress our provincials with insults and extortion, since, as was written above, it is fitting rather to call our provincials back to the worship of the gods by exhortation and flattery. And so that this command of ours may come to the knowledge of all our provincials, you must make known what has been ordered in an edict issued by yourself.”

Since he had been forced to this by necessity, and had not given the order of his own free will, no one any longer thought him truthful or trustworthy, because after his earlier, similar concession he had already shown how fickle and false his mind was. So none of our people dared to call a meeting or even to show himself in public, since his letter did not mean to allow even this. It allowed only that we be kept free from abuse; it did not order that we might hold meetings, or build houses for the churches, or do any of the other things we were used to doing. And yet the advocates of peace and piety had written to him to permit these very things, and had granted them to all their subjects by proclamations and laws. But this most impious man would not give way on this point, until at last, driven by divine justice, he was brought to it against his will. [w]