Chapter 12: The Edict of Persecution

The most peaceful and congenial court of the empire under
Diocletian's domain was Nicomedia. Members of a variety of
different religious sects interacted both socially and
economically. For the most part, the citizens expressed mutual
respect. The splendor of the court was reflected in the healthy
appearance of the citizens and their commercial prosperity.
Nicomedia was a wealthy city full of potential for expansion, and
quite literally the model municipality of the entire empire.

Nicomedia was the favorite court of Diocletian, whose
family lived there. His wife and daughter permanently lived in
Nicomedia where they could enjoy the melting pot of cultures,
which reflected the great Roman Empire. Over the years, his
wife and daughter had become attached to the people at
Nicomedia. They exercised the freedom to speak with anyone
they deemed important enough to engage in conversation.
However, with Diocletian in the palace, members of the imperial
court would report the women's daily activities to the emperor,
who continually had them watched.

One day, the emperor ordered Constantine to escort his
daughter around Nicomedia. Constantine was familiar with
Valeria, who had been betrothed to Galerius several years prior.
Valeria was at odds with Galerius, and in an effort to ease
tensions between husband and wife, the emperor had her and his
own wife, Prisca, watched.

Constantine observed Valeria from a vantage point across
the courtyard. She was between two middle-aged men, whose
words brought occasional smiles to her face. Her bright white
teeth contrasted with her dark features. Valeria had a regal
fayade, disguising ordinary looks. She was an outgoing, amiable
woman to all but those who were forced to accompany her. She
exercised authority over Constantine, like an older sister. Valeria
reserved the right, since her father was emperor, and her husband
was Caesar.

The two men with Valeria were the bishop Anthimus and
Euetius, one of the wealthiest men in the city. Both men were of
high social standing at Nicomedia, typical acquaintances of a
princess. What was peculiar about them being in her company
was that they were both Christians.

"God bless you, child," the bishop said, glancing over at a
nonchalant Constantine.

Valeria blew them a kiss goodbye and came to
Constantine, who stood with his arms folded, looking
disapprovingly.

"I can see whomever I wish," she said, irritated.

"You know, wives of Caesars have been put to death for
lesser offenses," he countered.

"Who do you think you are to speak to me in such a way?
This is how I live my life."

"To be completely honest, I care not how you live your
life. I am just obeying the emperor's orders and he will know
what and with whom you've been with today. Let's run along
now, so that I may be relived of this burdensome duty as soon as
possible."

She stalked arrogantly away and Constantine followed her
from a distance. He saw Cassius at the agora across the way.
Cassius threw up his arms as if to ask what service Constantine
was doing.

Constantine cupped his hands around his mouth and
shouted, "Imperial babysitting!"

Valeria turned and gave him a look of hatred from angry
black irises that cut like a knife. Having angered her, he made
sure to keep his distance until they reached the imperial quarters.

Constantine immediately went to the emperor's meeting
chamber to be relieved of duty. He stayed down on one knee
until the emperor recognized him.

"Take post beside me, Constantine," ordered the emperor.

Constantine formally stood at attention. Before him sat a
large group of court officials and tribunes who were sympathetic
to the arguments of the man sitting directly across from the
emperor—Galerius.

"Most of my chambermaids are Christian," Diocletian
said. "The citizens in and around Nicomedia are primarily
Christian. Pagans and Christians can live in harmony together.
This court is proof!"

"What an example Nicomedia has become," said Galerius.
"A place that favors foreign religion. I see it destroying the
empire."

"I think it is the closest thing we have to social perfection
in the empire."

"Then you are alone in your view." Galerius tossed a
leather satchel onto the solid round table. It was passed down the
line of chamberlains to the emperor.

"The first three of a fifteen volume masterpiece entitled,
Against the Christians. Also inside is a three-volume work by a
member of this court, pertaining to the same subject. Pages of

evidence that support my theory. No one can dispute your
accomplishments. Defeating your enemies and fulfilling the
duties of a unified tetrarchy. However, there is one enemy you
have yet to defeat. The enemy of religion. Unless this Christian
faith is conquered, your success will be temporary, and the
empire will surely collapse."

Silent court officials slid notes across the table to Galerius,
who read off their statements as if they were his own.

"Those who believe in the Pantheon recognize you as a
divine monarch, a title that you spent many years proving your
worth to receive. The Christian Church openly denies your
divinity. This is a direct assault upon you, the senior emperor of
the Roman Empire. Yet you still do not take action."

"I am quite aware of your views regarding this faith," said
Diocletian. "This topic has been the central theme in your letters
and in our conversations here at court. This is why I wish to
settle this once and for all. I do not share your views, although I
am sympathetic to many of your concerns. So, unless I can be
convinced otherwise, things will remain the way they are."

"I will list for you what the arsenal of the enemy consists
of. The Christian Church is a dangerously organized institution,
which, I might add, is illegal and has no right to exist in the
empire. It has influence over the citizens who are drawn away
from loyalty to the government in order to adhere to the laws of
the church. Its domain expands to the ends of the empire. Its
followers are numerous and commingled with Roman citizens
throughout. The Church is a powerful organization and probably
the strongest foe we have ever faced.

"It is imperative that action be taken against the church. It
is a conspiracy, a treason that grows stronger every passing day.
It must be crushed before a revolution begins and the empire
falls to pieces. And may I add that its influence has even affected
the Senior Caesar Constantius," he glanced at Constantine, who
still stood at attention, "whom has recently named his daughter
Anastasia, a Christian name."

"Please, the name of his daughter is irrelevant," rebuked
Diocletian. "There is a small constituency of Christians that
make up the populace of his domain, true. Perhaps he holds
different views from yours and believes it would be foolhardy of
him to attack the religious freedom of the people he rules.
Furthermore, there should be no question about his religious
practices. His patron deity is Sol Invictus, who appears on the
coinage of his domain, along with his own bust.

"Nonetheless, your other points regarding the influence
and organization of an illegal body validate the earnestness of
this issue. I do not feel that this illegal body, as you say,
threatens the unity of the empire, yet it does merit further
consideration. Perhaps I have too many acquaintances who are
Christian. Perhaps I want to avoid further bloodshed at all cost.
Whatever the case, I feel that conflict is not inevitable and to do
as you have suggested goes against my better judgement. And
yet, a room full of officials stands before me in contradiction.
Therefore, I will leave the ultimate decision to a vote by the
army and the members of the imperial court. Galerius, organize a
general assembly for dawn. We will have a verdict regarding this
matter by noon tomorrow."

Galerius and the officials paid respects and exited the
room.

Constantine remained alone with the emperor.

"Sit, sit," he said in a casual tone.

When Constantine appeared ready, the emperor
commanded, "Go ahead."

Constantine relaxed his posture. "Nothing out of the
ordinary. She spent most of the day socializing inside the
confines of the city. I must report that she was in contact with a
number of Christians, including the bishop Anthimus, and
another man whose name I do not know."

"Nothing more to report?"

"Not other than I can see the dilemma you are in."

Diocletian nodded. "Yes. My wife and daughter are
sympathetic to the exercise of free religion, especially for the

Christians. As you witnessed today, many friends of my daughter
in Nicomedia are Christian. So I ask myself if I am biased and
hence jeopardizing the security of the empire as Galerius
continually insists."

"I feel you made the most responsible decision you could
have," Constantine said, knowing well that Galerius was plotting
mischief.

The next day, Constantine found himself among the rank
and file of the army, joined by the court officials of Nicomedia.
Galerius manipulated the meeting through scornful glances and
his presence. Imperial members of the court who didn't share his
views quickly changed their minds and the Caesar secured a
majority vote. The official suppression of what Galerius deemed
"the empire's final enemy" was ratified. After years of
persistence, Galerius had prevailed.

It was February 23 AD 303 when the Christians suffered
their first attack, with the destruction of their church in
Nicomedia. Galerius, accompanied by tribunes and generals,
were entertained by the scene they observed. Soldiers razed the
building in hopes of impressing the Caesar. Scriptures were
immediately thrown into a fire pit. They tore down the doors and
plundered the icons and other contents.

Diocletian and Galerius published an edict the following
day. It banned the open practice of religion, other than that of the
pagan sect. Furthermore, any gathering for the worship of the
Christian religion was declared illegal. It was clear from the edict
that Christianity was henceforward prohibited in Nicomedia and
the rest of the Roman Empire.

Despite her father's orders, the emperor's daughter roamed
the streets of Nicomedia the following day. Constantine had the
displeasure of accompanying her throughout the city. The sun
hung low, it was late afternoon. He followed her towards the

palace when they saw the emperor, Galerius, various court
officials, and generals moving toward the destroyed church. A
few people were soon joined by others, forming a crowd, and
Constantine had no choice but to join them.

The ceremony in front of the plundered building was
formal and legal in every sense of the Roman word. Diocletian
personally posted the edict onto the whitewashed wall of the
church.

The man Euetius, whom the emperor's daughter was fond
of, raised a commotion.

"No Euetius," Valeria said, aware of the penalty for
openly speaking out against the emperor.

He deliberately went on the attack.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think yourself a
god? What god is beaten by the tribes of the Sarmatians and
Goths? No, you and your wicked empire are like chaff to be
blown away by the wind. Through God, you will surely perish."

Euetius ripped the edict from the church wall and tore it in
half. Furious, Diocletian walked over to the man, accompanied
by two bodyguards. He struck him down several times, leaving
the Christian unconscious.

"Organize a bonfire this instant," he commanded, enraged.
He looked at the crowd, his head trembling with anger. His
daughter squirmed about in Constantine's embrace as he covered
her mouth and held her tight so she would not mock her father
and suffer the same fate as the Christian.

The man came to, finding himself tied to a plank
surrounded by chaff and dry wood. It was a sort of poetic justice
in the eyes of the enraged emperor.

His daughter saw it as a barbaric act of cruelty. She
gnawed at Constantine's fingers in an attempt to intervene.
Diocletian personally lit the fire and allowed the throng to bare
witness to the entire scene. The odor of burnt flesh and the horrid
screams of a man being burned alive eventually subsided into
silence.

"This is the fate of anyone who dares oppose me. Do not
think this man is a martyr. He is a fool. And every fool who
dares challenge the law will meet the same fate. You have been
warned."

Galerius grinned in the direction of Constantine, whose
hand, covering the mouth of the emperor's daughter, dripped
with blood. He watched Galerius provoke the emperor and
accompany him to the other end of the city where they continued
to publicly post the edict.

The crowd was speechless as it dispersed. Most eyes that
were not on the charred martyr focused on the emperor's
daughter.

Constantine released her and she hurled her body before
the fire. She cried an agonized cry for the loss of a loved one.
Constantine forced her into his arms and comforted her. It was
the only thing that could have saved her from throwing herself
into the pit.

Constantine escorted the emperor's daughter to the palace
where her teary-eyed mother awaited her. No report was required
for the day as the emperor's actions spoke for themselves.
Constantine spent the rest of the night warning the eunuchs and
other members of the imperial household to stay alert and say
nothing about their religion.

Constantine asked the eunuchs to send Peter, the eunuch
Constantine was most familiar with, to him in the garden. The
timid man, roughly the same age as Constantine, came willingly.
Although royalty rarely associated closely with servants,
Constantine liked the soft-spoken Peter, preferring his services
when he was in Nicomedia. Peter's simplicity appealed to
Constantine, as Peter was always grateful for the little that he
had.

"You summoned me," Peter said humbly.

"Yes, I wanted to warn you of the edict."

"Talk has spread about the court already. I am aware of the
calamities that have occurred."

"I'm sure you are. However, I wanted to advise you to stay
clear of Galerius and avoid voicing any opinions until the first
fervor dies down. Tend to your duties and speak to no one, even
those whom you think you can confide in."

Thunder reverberated from the dark hovering clouds
overhead and the wind blew in a cold gale devoid of rain.

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot to us that you have risked
your reputation to try and help us."

At that moment Galerius, accompanied by Maximinius
and a second guard, passed them in the courtyard. Constantine
knelt in forced respect.

"Do not converse with the hired help," Galerius
commanded Constantine. "You," he said pointing to Peter, "fetch
my guards some wine."

Peter quickly obeyed his orders and made his way to the
kitchen.

Constantine was outside alone when he witnessed an
immense light from the sky bolt down and strike the palace in the
vicinity of the kitchen. Constantine ran to aid in extinguishing
the fire that suddenly flared up.

"This is the work of those Christians," one guard said, not
noticing the presence of Galerius and Constantine as he
smothered the flames.

A sinister grin changed the contours of the Caesar's face.

Peter then made the mistake of entering the conversation.
"Christians are not to blame, it is you pagans that anger God and
are suffering his wrath," he said unaware that Galerius was
directly behind him.

Constantine purposely tossed a bucket frill of water on to
him. He turned and his eyes opened with shock, Galerius was
staring at him. Galerius left the area and the fire was eventually
extinguished.

On a second night, flames lit the palace walls. This time,
lightning could not be blamed because the skies were so clear
that numerous stars were visible. The inferno of sulfur scorched
the outside of the Caesar's and the emperor's bedchambers.

Pandemonium replaced the order of the imperial palace. Galerius
had continually fed Diocletian ideas that the Christians were
behind the first fire. Now, the second fire had almost taken the
emperor's life. It seemed highly likely that Diocletian would not
believe that the fires had been caused by the accused.

The emperor called a meeting of the members of the
imperial household. The vast majority of the servants were
Christian and were immediately ordered arrested and tortured.
Galerius particularly took an interest in Peter, whom he tortured
publicly outside of the palace.

Constantine and Cassius mixed with the crowd of civilians
and soldiers as they watched the men under Galerius' command
strip the helpless Peter. Then they tied him to opposing poles
with his arms and legs spread far apart. The flogging
commenced. One soldier after another ripped the flesh from
Peter's back with the lash. They continued until he fell
unconscious, the life in him almost completely drained.

"Vinegar and salt, if you please," Galerius said, smirking.

Peter screamed as Galerius took pleasure in pouring salt
and vinegar into each of his open wounds. Although held down
firmly by four soldiers, the man convulsed wildly from the pain.
He survived the second stage of torture and Galerius impatiently
ordered him to the third and final stage.

Much like Euetius, Peter was bound and burnt at the stake.
As soon as the fire would reach a scorching blaze, Galerius
would have it smothered. Peter's charred legs, deformed and
swollen, would smoke, until the fire was reignited. The pain
eventually became too much for him to bear, and he went limp.
Some people in the crowd watched, full of excitement, as their
morbid thirst for entertainment was quenched.

Constantine looked on in disgust, knowing well that his
efforts to save this man and the others, had been in vain, and had
put him at even further odds with the Caesar.

The rest of the Christians who were members of the
imperial household were accused of treason and tortured until
they confessed. The few who did admit to a crime they were
innocent of had their tongues removed and were placed in the
dungeon. The soldiers were busy with Galerius' internal arena
for the days to come, and the Caesar continued to take advantage
of the opportunity he was given.

The bishop Anthimius was arrested and hauled away in
front of the emperor's daughter. Other priests who gathered with
him were taken along to see Galerius, who would determine their
fate. The Caesar had grown tired of the long, time-consuming
process of torture. His soldiers awaited their orders.

"These are the leaders of the Christians. If you remove the
heads of any organization, the rest will crumble."

The soldiers understood and began using their sharpened
double-bladed axes. Christians were beheaded on the spot,
without any inquiry.

Constantine initiated the sending of anonymous letters to
the emperor. They accurately accused the Caesar of having
started the second fire in order to instigate the persecution.
Tribunes discovered the first batch of letters before the emperor
had received them and, in an attempt to curry the favor of
Galerius, notified him of their existence. He had to act fast if he
were to escape formal questioning about accusations that could
ruin his career.

He was with the emperor when the idea came to him. "I
must flee this place in fear of my life," Galerius said to
Diocletian. "Sources have told me that there is a price on my
head and to stay here would only insure my death."

"I have no more use for you here at Nicomedia. It would
be best if you returned to Thessalonika, regardless of these
threats."

"I advise you to do the same," said Galerius.

"No, I will stay a while longer, until it is time to depart for
Rome and the Vicennalia."

"Yes, of course, the celebration. If you will excuse me."
Galerius bowed and hurriedly mounted his horse and rode off
accompanied by a legion of troops.

The emperor observed as his courageous subordinate
departed in supposed fear of his life. The emperor thought it
unusual, yet accepted the Caesar's performance without
question.

With the edict as an official document, the enforcement
began immediately. Any building, private or public, that
contained church property was razed. Scriptures and Christian
literature were confiscated and cast into the fire. Any icons or
other valuables were seized for the imperial treasury. All
individual Christians were to recant and sacrifice to the
pantheon, or be deprived of all legal rights. Those who did not
recant could be tortured, lose their property, and their lives.
Lastly, Christian freedmen in service of the empire became
slaves. It was a full-fledged assault on the Christians, primarily
those in the hierarchy of the church. Had Galerius been
completely triumphant, he would have had all Christians burned
at the stake, whether they recanted or not. Nevertheless, the
edict was legal basis for persecution.

In Africa, the edict was enforced under Maximian's reign.
Ruthless magistrates chose to severely punish the Christians in
their domain. The treasuries in those parts were filled with spoils,
made rich by the confiscation of numerous items. Land was
taken, while leading Manichaean Christians were ordered burnt
alive, and their followers were ordered killed by the sword. The
edict lasted in these parts far longer than in the rest of the empire,
as protests were already surfacing in the east.

In the North, Constantius enforced the edict only on the
surface. Churches were demolished and portions of church
possessions were seized. A fictional list of deceased and tortured
Christians was reported to the emperor to conceal what was
really happening in Gaul and Britain. No executions occurred in

the area under Constantius' rule. It was the only place in the
empire where the Christians were not violently persecuted.

Persecution in Nicomedia gradually eased after Galerius
departed from court. Although protests eventually led to more
stringent attacks upon those who dared to voice their opinions,
the hunt for Christians to persecute lessened. Most of the
Christians in the emperor's domain recanted and chose not to
voice their opinions about their situation in public. Arrests still
did occur, but the majority of Christians were not arrested or
burned at the stake. Those zealots who openly defied the edict
and were willing to be exposed to pain and suffering to retain
their title as Christians became martyrs.

The days of winter had passed and spring was in season.
The emperor had made plans to go to Rome for a ceremony
celebrating his twenty years as emperor. Because of the tradition
of mercy preceding the celebration, Diocletian was apt to offer
pardon to the accused.

Constantine and members of the imperial court listened
attentively to the emperor address those who filled his prison.

"My days in Nicomedia are coming to an end as I must
begin my journey. I am forced to be lenient to you because of the
customary practice of the Vicennalia. Therefore, everyone but
the Christians are free to go."

Beggars, thieves and murderers were released instantly,
regardless of the severity of their crimes. They ran into the
streets, gleefully celebrating the second chance they received.
For the remaining convicts, freedom was not as easily secured.

"The rest of you, the clergy of the Christian cult, will be
released once you have sacrificed to the God Caesar Augustus."
He signaled the officials and military officers to force
compliance, then retired to his bedchamber.

Constantine was one of the military personnel elected for
this task. He grabbed a priest and twisted his elbow at such an
angle as to ensure pain.

"Take the knife in your free hand," he ordered calmly.
"Now perform the sacrifice in the emperor's name."

The priest was forced to do so and then was immediately
released from prison.

Constantine had set an example for the other officers,
governors, and magistrates throughout Diocletian's domain, who
used the technique of forced conformity to empty their crowded
jails of fervent Christians.

In late spring of the year that the edict was promulgated,
the emperor left Nicomedia on the calculated journey that would
end in Rome. Along the way, he made brief stops to visit groups
of regional magistrates. They carried out the formalities that
expressed their appreciation of his efforts and recognized his
supreme power. The emperor at last felt completely victorious
and successful as a true ruler of the Roman Empire.

Constantine accompanied Diocletian on the trek to his
Vicennalia in Rome. They arrived in the great city shortly before
20 November, when the ceremony was to officially begin.
Maximian, the other Augustus, met Diocletian in order to
celebrate the years of their reign together. The ceremony also
included praise for Galerius' victory over the Persians and the
successful ten-year reign of the Caesars.

Diocletian entered Rome on his chariot, with Maximian
alongside him. The people cheered him as a triumphant
magistrate, but not as a divine monarch, as he had expected.
They did not kneel, nor did they bow their heads at his approach.
He was just a man in their eyes. In this atmosphere, where he felt
much less than an absolute monarch or a God, his dreams of
reaching a pinnacle of supremacy that no other emperor had ever

attained were vanquished by the attitude of the people of Rome.
As soon as he had arrived, he made plans to leave the dreadful
city that he now despised.

Constantine, the son of the Senior Caesar, and Maxentius,
the son of an Augustus, discussed their past in Rome. Both
realized that they were the two most likely candidates for
succession to the imperial throne. Maxentius, the elder, had
matured greatly since Constantine had last seen him at
Diocletian's court where they had sparred in the palaestra. He
was an accomplished officer in his father's army, having served
his early years under Galerius. Much like Constantine, he
disliked the Caesar and his policies. They discussed their
experiences serving the emperor and bonded as equals set on a
common goal. Nevertheless, there still existed a sense of
childhood competition that was projected into the more serious
political arena. However, Diocletian, irate about the way the
populace had received him, cut their time together short.
Nonetheless, it was good to see an old acquaintance from the
past to boast to.

Annoyed and depressed, the emperor and his convoy
departed from Rome for the last time. Diocletian felt obligated to
make the journey to the Danube, where he was to inspect the
frontiers. He no longer rode high and proud on his chariot, and
was never again seen mounted upon his white stallion. His
immortality as a divine monarch had been stolen in Rome, to be
replaced by a sense of his mortality. The once pious and lively
emperor was gradually dying inside. It was the beginning of the
end of his reign.