"The present occasion is, I think, too grave to take regard of the

principle that it is not meet for a woman to speak among men. Those

whose dearest interests are in the presence of extreme danger are

justified in thinking only of the wisest course of action. Now, in my

opinion, Nature is an unprofitable tutor, even if her guidance bring us

safety. It is impossible for a man when he has come into the world not

to die; but for one who has reigned it is intolerable to be an exile.

May I never exist without this purple robe, and may I never live to see

the day on which those who meet me shall not address me as Queen. If you

wish, O Emperor, to save yourself, there is no difficulty; we have ample

funds. Yonder is the sea, and there are the ships. Yet reflect whether,

when you have once escaped to a place of security, you will not prefer

death to safety. I agree with an old saying that 'Empire is a fair

winding-sheet.'"

By these courageous words the resolution of Theodora saved the throne of

Justinian. Her firmness conquered the weakness and the pusillanimity of

the court. Belisarius triumphantly led his forces against the

revolutionists in the Hippodrome. A ruthless massacre followed, in which

thirty-five thousand persons perished. The power of the factions was

forever broken, and henceforth Justinian enjoyed absolute sovereignty

without a protest. The important public buildings which had been

destroyed in the conflagrations incident to the riot were restored on a

more magnificent scale, and the still standing Saint Sophia is a

monument to the genius and splendor of the reign of Justinian and

Theodora.

One can readily understand what a dominating influence such a woman

would maintain over the indecisive Justinian. The passion with which she

had inspired the prince was preserved up to the last moment of her life;

and his devotion and regard ever increased and after her death took the

form of reverential awe, so influenced was he by her superior abilities.

She was to him, in the words of a contemporary historian, "the sweetest

charm"; or, as he himself says in a legal enactment, "the gift of

God"--a play upon her name. After her death, when he would make a solemn

promise, he swore by the name of Theodora. He withheld from her none of

the emoluments, none of the realities, of joint and equal sovereignty:

her name figured with his in the inscriptions placed upon the facades of

churches or the gates of citadels; her image was associated with his in

the decorations of the royal palace, as in the mosaics of San Vitale.

Her name appeared by the side of his on the imperial seal. A multitude

of cities and a newly created province bore her name. In every regard

she shared the sovereignty with the emperor. Magistrates, bishops,

generals, governors of provinces, swore by all that was sacred to render

good and true service to the very pious and sacred sovereigns, Justinian

and Theodora.

When Theodora journeyed, a royal cortege accompanied her, consisting of

patricians, high dignitaries, and ministers, and an escort of four

thousand soldiers as guard. Her orders were received with deference

throughout the Empire; and when officials found them in contradiction

with those of the emperor, they often preferred the instructions of

Theodora to those of Justinian. Functionaries knew that her patronage

assured a rapid promotion in royal power and that her good will was a

guarantee against possible disgrace. Royal strangers sought to flatter

her vanity and to win her good graces.

All the chroniclers record that in state papers on important affairs

Theodora was the collaborator with Justinian. The emperor gladly

acknowledged his indebtedness to her, and we read in one of his

ordinances: "Having this time again taken counsel of the most sacred

spouse whom God has given us...." Theodora likewise on occasion gave

evidence of her authority. She once ordered Theodatus to submit to her

the requests he wished to address to the emperor, and in a communication

to the ministers of the Persian king, Chosroes, she stated: "The emperor

never decides anything without consulting me." She was the regulating

power in both State and Church, appointing or disgracing generals and

ministers, making or unmaking patriarchs and pontiffs, raising to

fortune her favorites, and unsettling the power and position of her

opponents.

Theodora's comprehension of the necessities of imperial politics was

something marvellous, and the wise moves of Justinian were due largely

to her counsel. Yet, though so superb a queen, she was all the more a

woman-fickle, passionate, avaricious of authority, and intensely jealous

of preserving the power she had. Apparently without scruples, she would

get rid of all influence which threatened to counterbalance her own, and

she brushed aside without pity all opposition which seemed to infringe

on her authority. In the intrigues of the palace she ever came off the

victor. Vainly did favorites and ministers who fancied themselves

indispensable attempt to ruin her credit with the emperor. The secretary

Priscus, whom the favor of Justinian had raised to office as count of

the bed-chamber, paid dearly for the insults which he addressed to

Theodora. He was exiled, imprisoned, and finally driven to take orders,

and his enormous fortune was confiscated.

The history of John of Cappadocia is more significant still; at the same

time that it gives insight into the intrigues and plots of the Byzantine

courts, it throws a glowing light on the ambitious nature, the

unscrupulous energy, the vindictive spirit, and the perfidious

cleverness of the Empress Theodora.

For six years John of Cappadocia occupied the exalted position of

praetorian prefect, which made him at the same time minister of finance

and minister of the interior, as well as the first minister of the

Empire. By his vices, his harshness, and his corruption he justified the

proverb:

"The Cappadocian is bad by nature; if he attains to power he is worse;

but if he seeks to be supreme, he is the most detestable of all." But in

the eyes of Justinian he had one redeeming virtue: he furnished to every

request of the prince the funds which the vast expenditures of his reign

demanded. At the price of what exactions, of what sufferings of his

subjects, he obtained these admirable results, the emperor did not

inquire, or perhaps he ignored these considerations. At all events, the

prefect was a great favorite of the prince, and the court aides envied

the success of his administration. Having a dominating influence over

the emperor, possessing riches beyond the dreams of avarice, John

attained to the very apex of fortune. Superstitious by nature, the

promises of wizards had aroused in him the hope of attaining to the

supreme power, as the colleague or successor of Justinian. As a step

toward this he attempted to ruin the credit of Theodora with the

emperor. This was an offence which the haughty empress could not pardon.

The prefect was not ignorant how powerful an adversary he had aroused;

but, conscious of his influence with the emperor and of the state of the

finances which he alone could administer, he regarded himself as

indispensable. But he did not correctly gauge the subtlety of Theodora.

She first endeavored to convince the emperor of the sufferings which the

prefect inflicted on his subjects and then to arouse his suspicions as

to the dangers with which the throne was menaced by the ambition of

John: but the emperor, like all feeble natures, hesitated to separate

from himself a counsellor to whom by long habit and association he had

become attached. Then Theodora conceived a Machiavelian plot.

Theodora's most intimate friend was Antonina, the wife of Belisarius,

whom Procopius describes as a woman "more capable than anyone else to

manage the impracticable." The two clever women devised an unscrupulous

bit of strategy which, if successful, would surely cause the downfall of

the much execrated minister of finance. Antonina, at Theodora's

suggestion, cultivated the friendship of John's daughter, Euphemia, and

intimated to her that her husband Belisarius was seriously disaffected

toward the emperor, because of the poor requital which his distinguished

services had received, but that he could not attempt to throw off the

imperial yoke unless he was assured of the sympathy and support of some

one of the important civil officials. Euphemia naturally told the news

to her father, who, seeing in the circumstance an opportunity to ascend

the throne with the aid of the powerful general, easily fell into the

trap. To perfect the plot the Cappadocian arranged a secret interview at

Rufinianum, one of the country seats of Belisarius. The empress arranged

to have two faithful officials, Marcellus and Narses, concealed in the

villa, with orders to arrest John if his treason became manifest, and,

if he resisted, straightway to put him to death. They overheard the

treasonable plot, but the minister succeeded in escaping arrest and fled

to the inviolable asylum of Saint Sophia. He was, however, exiled in

disgrace to Cyzicus; but the ruthless hatred of Theodora followed him,

and, after all his ill-gotten gains had been confiscated, he was exiled

to Egypt, where he remained until the death of the empress. He finally

returned to Constantinople, but Justinian had no further need of the

services of his quondam counsellor, and the latter, in the rude garb of

a priest, died upon the scene of his former triumphs.

In her ruthless persecution of her opponents, as illustrated by this

incident, there seems to have been in this remarkable woman a singular

absence of the moral sense.

True it is that she passionately loved power and luxury and wealth;

true, that she exercised her authority at times in a ruthless and

unscrupulous manner. Yet the hardness of her nature is offset by many

sympathetic qualities which show that, together with the sternness of an

empress, she had the heart of a woman.

She showed a sympathetic interest in the welfare of her own family. She

married her sister Comito to Sittas, an officer of high rank. Her niece

Sophia was united in marriage with the nephew of Justin, heir

presumptive to the Empire. All her life she regretted that she did not

have a son to mount the throne: she had buried an infant daughter, the

sole offspring of her marriage.

One of the most pleasing traits of her character was the large tolerance

and substantial sympathy she showed to fallen women. Severe on men, she

manifested for women a solicitude rarely equalled. On the Asiatic coast

of the Bosporus she converted a palace into a spacious and stately

monastery, known as the Convent of the Metanoia, or Repentance, and

richly endowed it for the benefit of her less fortunate sisters who had

been seduced or compelled to embrace the trade of prostitution. In this

safe and holy retreat were gathered hundreds of women, collected from

the streets and brothels of Constantinople; and many a hapless woman was

filled with gratitude toward the generous benefactress who had rescued

her from a life of sin and misery.

Are we to see in this tender solicitude an exemplification of the words

of the poet, _Non ignara mali miseris succurrere disco_, or were her

endeavors merely the outcome of the religious exaltation of a pure and

noblewoman "naturally prone to succor women in misfortune," as a

Byzantine writer says of her? At any rate, this practical sympathy

exerted its influence also in enactments of the Justinian Code relating

to women; such as the ordinance tending to increase the dignity of

marriage and render it more indissoluble, or that to give to seduced

maidens recourse against their seducers, or that to relieve actresses of

the social disbarment which attended their calling. All these measures

were doubtless due to the inspiration of Theodora.

She also carried her strict ideas as to the sanctity of marriage into

the life of the court, as is shown by the manner in which she pitilessly

spoiled the romance which would have united one of the most brilliant

generals of the Empire to a niece of Justinian.

Præjecta, the emperor's niece, had fallen into the hands of Gontharis, a

usurper who had slain her husband, Areobindus. She had given up all as

lost when an unexpected savior appeared in the person of a handsome

Armenian officer, Artabanes, the commander in Africa, who overthrew the

usurper and restored her to liberty. From gratitude, Præjecta could

refuse her deliverer nothing, and she promised him her hand. The

ambitious Armenian saw in this brilliant marriage rapid promotion to the

height of power. The princess returned to Constantinople, and the Count

of Africa hastened to surrender his honorable office and sought a recall

to Constantinople to join his prospective bride. He was lionized in the

capital; his dignified demeanor, his burning eloquence and his unbounded

generosity won the admiration of all. To remove the social distance

between him and his fiancée he was loaded down with honors and

dignities. All went well until an unexpected and troublesome obstacle to

the nuptials presented itself. Artabanes had overlooked or forgotten the

fact that years before he had espoused an Armenian lady. They had been

separated a long time, and the warrior had never been heard to speak of

her. So long as he was an obscure soldier his wife was contented to

leave him in peace; but not so after his unexpected rise to fame.

Suddenly she appeared in Constantinople, claiming the rights of a lawful

spouse, and as a wronged woman she implored the sympathetic aid of

Theodora.

The empress was inflexible when the sacred bonds of marriage were at

stake, and she forced the reluctant general to renounce all claims to

the princess and to take back his forsaken wife. By way of precaution,

she speedily married Præjecta to John, the grandson of the emperor

Anastasius, and the pretty romance was at an end.

With equal regard to the sanctity of marriage, Theodora employed

numerous devices to reconcile Belisarius, the celebrated general, with

his wife Antonina, to whom the scandal of the _Secret History_

attributes serious lapses from moral rectitude, though the charge cannot

be regarded as proved.

A portrait of the Byzantine empress would be incomplete if it did not

speak of her religious sentiments and the prominent part she took in

ecclesiastical politics. In religious matters we see not only the best

side of Theodora's nature, but also the supreme exhibition of her

influence in the affairs of the Empire. Like all the Byzantines of her

time, she was pious and devoted in her manner of life. She was noted for

her almsgiving and her contributions to the foundations established by

the Church. Chroniclers cite the houses of refuge, the orphanages, and

the hospitals founded by her; and Justinian, in one of his ordinances,

speaks of the innumerable gifts which she made to churches, hospitals,

asylums, and bishoprics.

Yet, in spite of these many exhibitions of inward piety, Theodora was

strongly suspected by the orthodox of heresy. She professed openly the

monophysite doctrine,--the belief in the one nature in the person of

Jesus Christ. She also endeavored to bring Justinian to her view, and,

with an eye to the interest of the state, she entered upon a course of

policy which reconciled the schismatics--but disgusted the orthodox

Catholics, who were in unison with Rome. The people of Syria and Egypt

were almost universally Monophysites and Separatists. Theodora, with a

political finesse far greater than that of her husband, saw that the

discontent in the Orient was prejudicial to the imperial power, and she

endeavored by her line of policy to reconcile the hostile parties and to

reestablish religious peace in the Empire. She recognized that the

centre of gravity of the government had passed permanently from Rome to

Constantinople, and that consequently the best policy was to keep at

peace the peoples of the East.

Justinian, on the other hand, misled by the grandeur of Roman tradition,

wished to establish, through union with the Roman See, strict orthodoxy

in the restored empire of the Cæsars. Theodora, with greater acumen,

observed the irreconcilable lines of difference between East and West,

and recognized that to proscribe the learned and powerful party of

dissenters in the Orient would alienate important provinces and be fatal

to the authority of the monarchy. She therefore threw her influence into

the balance of heresy. She received the leaders of the Monophysites in

the palace, and listened sympathetically to their counsels, their

complaints, their remonstrances. She placed men of this faith in the

most prominent patriarchal sees--Severius at Antioch, Theodosius at

Alexandria, Anthimius at Constantinople. She transformed the palace on

Hormisdas into a monastery for the persecuted priests of Syria and Asia.

When Severius was subjected to persecution, she provided means for him

to escape from Constantinople; and when Anthimius was deposed from the

metropolitan see, she extended to him, in spite of imperial orders, her

open protection, and gave him an asylum in the palace. Her boldest coup,

however, consisted in placing on the pontifical seat at Rome a pope of

her own choice, pledged to act with the Monophysites.

For this rôle she found the man in the Roman deacon Vigilius, for some

years apostolic legate at Constantinople. Vigilius was an ambitious and

clever priest who had won his way into the confidence of Theodora, and

the empress thought to find in him, when elevated to the pontifical

chair, a ready instrument for her purposes. It is recounted that, in

exchange for the imperial protection and patronage, Vigilius engaged to

reestablish Anthimius at Constantinople, to enter into a league with

Theodosius and Severius, and to annul the Council of Chalcedon. Upon the

death of the presiding pope, Agapetus, Vigilius set out for Rome with

letters for Belisarius, who was then at the height of his power in

Italy, and these letters were such that they did not admit of objection.

Apparently, in this affair Justinian had secretly assented to the plans

of the empress, seeing perhaps in the movement a solution which would

bring about the unity which he desired and place the Roman pontiff in

accord with the Orientals. But it was not without trouble that Vigilius

was installed. Immediately upon the death of Agapetus, the Roman party

had provided a successor in Silverius; and to seat Vigilius in the chair

of Saint Peter, they must first make Silverius descend. Belisarius was

charged with this repugnant task. With manifest reluctance, he undertook

his part in the questionable intrigue. He first suggested to Silverius a

dignified way of settling the affair by making the concessions which the

emperor desired of Vigilius. Silverius indignantly refused to make any

such compromise. Thereupon, under the imaginary pretext of treason, he

was brutally arrested, deposed, and sent into exile. Vigilius was at

once ordained pope in his stead. Theodora seemed to have conquered.

But when securely installed, Vigilius, in spite of the threats of

Belisarius, deferred the fulfilment of his promises. Finally, however,

he was compelled to make important concessions to the empress. This was

the last triumph of Theodora; and toward the close of her life, in the

growing progress of the Eastern Church, and in the declining influence

of the pope, she had reason to believe that the dreams of her religious

diplomacy were realized.

Theodora's advocacy of the cause of the dissenters accounts for much of

the vituperation heaped upon her by orthodox Catholics. In the eyes of

the Cardinal Baronius, the wife of Justinian was "a detestable creature,

a second Eve too ready to listen to the serpent, a new Delilah, another

Herodias, revelling in the blood of the saints, a citizen of Hell,

protected by demons, inspired by Satan, burning to break the concord

bought by the blood of confessors and of martyrs." It is worthy of note

that this was written before the discovery of the manuscript of the

_Secret History_. What would the learned cardinal have said had he known

of the alleged adventures of the youth of this woman, classed by pious

Catholics as one of the worst enemies of the Church?

Perhaps, after all, we are to find in Theodora's religious defection the

source of all the scandal which has attached to her name. Damned in the

eyes of pious churchmen because of her religious faith that Christ's

nature was not dual, it was easy for the tongue of scandal regarding her

early life to gain credence. Had Theodora followed the orthodox in the

belief in the two natures, she might have committed worse offences than

were charged to her, and no such vituperation would have been uttered by

any member of the orthodox Church; but her position in the religious

controversies of the sixth century will certainly, in the twentieth

century, do her memory little harm.

Theodora's health was always delicate. After these years of stormy

dissension, as her strength began to fail, she was directed to use the

famous Pythian warm baths. Her progress through Bithynia was made with

all the splendor of an imperial cortege, and all along the route she

distributed alms to churches, monasteries, and hospitals, with the

request that the devout should implore Heaven for the restoration of her

health. Finally, in the month of June, A. D. 548, in the twenty-fourth

year of her marriage and the twenty-second of her reign, Theodora died

of a cancer. Justinian was inconsolable at her loss, which rightly

seemed to him to be irreparable. His later years were lacking in the

energy and finesse that had characterized him during her lifetime, and

it was doubtless her loss which clouded his spirits and removed from him

the chief inspiration of his reign. Some years after Theodora's death, a

poet, desiring to gratify the emperor, recalled the memory of the

excellent, beautiful and wise sovereign, "who was beseeching at the

throne of grace God's favor on her spouse."

We can hardly think of Theodora as a glorified saint, yet her goodness

of heart and her charity may atone for many of the serious defects in

her character. We know not whence she came nor the story of her early

life; but as an empress she exhibited all the defects of her qualities.

She was a woman cast in a large mould, and her faults stand out in equal

prominence with her virtues. She was at times cruel, selfish, and proud,

often despotic and violent, utterly unscrupulous and pitiless when it

was a question of maintaining her power. But she was resourceful,

resolute, energetic, courageous; her political acumen was truly

masculine; in a critical moment she saved the throne for Justinian, and

during all her lifetime she was his wise Egeria, by her counsel enabling

him to succeed in great movements; when her influence ceased to exercise

itself a decadence began which continued during the remaining years of

Justinian's reign.

As a woman, she was capricious, passionate, vain, self-willed, but

sympathetic to the unfortunate and infinitely seductive. Truly imperial

was she in her vices, truly queenly in her virtues. Whatever may have

been her youth, her career on the throne is the best refutation of the

scandal of the _Secret History_, and she deserves a place in the records

of history as one of the world's greatest, most intelligent, most

fascinating empresses.

XII

OTHER SELF-ASSERTING AUGUSTÆ--VERINA, ARIADNE, SOPHIA, MARTINA, IRENE

Women of Early Christianity · 第 19 / 27 段