Rats, Fleas, and Grain Ships: How a Small Bacterium Rode a Very Big Empire into Crisis

Portion of painting by Josse Lieferinxe depicting the clergy's reaction to a gravedigger afflicted during the plague of Justinian.The very first pandemic on record didn’t start with drama. The Plague of Justinian (541 – 549 CE) started with fleas, grain shipments, and a supply chain doing exactly what it was designed to do. We owe a lot of what we know to Procopius of Caesarea (Προκόπιος ὁ Καισαρεύς), a Byzantine historian whose works are an indispensable source for his period and contain much geographical information. Using Procopius' work, we have learned how a microscopic organism turned the commercial heartbeat of the Byzantine Empire into a pandemic.


541 CE - Welcome to Pelusium: Where your flea’s midgut is suddenly everyone’s problem

The story begins in 541 CE in Pelusium, a busy Egyptian port. Fleas feeding on local rodents pick up Yersinia pestis, the bacterium responsible for bubonic plague.

Nothing “plague-like” happens yet. Just bacteria multiplying inside flea guts, blocking their digestive system, and prompting the fleas to bite more aggressively. When the local rats get sick, the fleas shift hosts. Pelusium’s grain infrastructure, which includes storage pits, granaries, and loading platforms, provides perfect conditions for rodents and fleas to mingle and spread the infection. Unfortunately, the identity of Flea Zero has been lost to time.

Nevertheless, the major imperial food system has just unknowingly become a disease incubator.


541–542 CE - The grain fleet sets sail and so does the worst possible plus-one

From Pelusium, the infection reaches the city of Alexandria within months. Alexandria is the beating heart of the empire’s grain export system. Nothing unusual disrupts the schedule:

Fleets leave between March and June, exactly as they always have.Cargo is loaded exactly as it always is. Rats and fleas board the ships exactly as they always do.

There is no dramatic outbreak aboard a doomed vessel. There is only business as usual… except that some of the stowaways now carry a bacterium capable of reshaping Mediterranean history.


Early 542 CE - Constantinople receives the worst Amazon package in history

When the grain ships reach Constantinople in early 542 CE, no one suspects anything is wrong. Massive food convoys arrive constantly; rats are simply part of life on a waterfront.

But Constantinople is a perfect amplification chamber:

- Tightly packed neighborhoods

- Warm storage areas

- Bustling marketplaces

- A huge urban rat population

Fleas carried from Egypt jump to local rats. Once those rats die, the fleas move on to humans. By spring 542 CE, the first human cases appear. The city’s density and infrastructure do the rest.


Mid–542 CE - Procopius Opens His Notes App and Starts Screaming

The outbreak peaks in mid-542 CE, likely between May and July. Procopius claims 5,000 to 10,000 deaths per day. Modern historians debate these numbers, but the disruption is unmistakable.

- Burial grounds overflow

- Trade slows

- Court operations falter

- Basic services collapse

But the empire can’t halt the grain ships, even now. Without them, the city starves. The same supply chain that brought food to Constantinople is now delivering plague to its people, and there is no mechanism for breaking that cycle.


543–549 CE - The Mediterranean does a terrible job of social distancing

After Constantinople’s crisis eases in late 542 or 543, the disease spreads outward along the empire’s established trade and military routes.

The plague reaches:

- Syria by 543 CE

- Palestine soon after

- Anatolia in the mid-540s

- Italy between 543–544 CE, complicating the Gothic War

- Gaul later in the 540s

- The Arabian Peninsula and Northern Europe by the late 540s

By 549 CE, the first great wave has passed. But it isn’t over. Recurrences continue for roughly two centuries, forming the wider First Plague Pandemic (c. 541–750 CE).

Each new outbreak follows the same playbook: rats, fleas, trade networks, food storage, urban density, and the rhythms of imperial movement.


A tiny bacterium with a very big transit pass

The Plague of Justinian didn’t spread because of fate or supernatural forces. It spread because the Byzantine Empire in the 540s was organized, interconnected, and efficient… and Yersinia pestis was perfectly suited to ride those systems. A supply chain built to nourish an empire became the accidental engine of a pandemic, suggesting that the past is not as distant as it seems; the same patterns of movement, connection, and unintended consequence still shape the world we inhabit today.