Theodora, because of her zeal for image worship, was eulogized as a

saint by the ecclesiastical writers of both the Western and the Eastern

Church, and is honored with a place in the Greek Calendar. Had her

devotion to her children equalled her self-sacrificing loyalty to church

affairs, she might have changed the course of Byzantine history. But,

failing in her maternal duties, her name shared the ignominy as well as

the glory of Irene, and, while not possessing the wickedness of the

latter, she must rank as a queen who in neglecting her son brought

disgrace on the Empire.

Basil I. was one of those remarkable men who after a career of infamy

are sobered by great responsibilities and perform well the part which it

was destined for them to play. But in his relations with women he had to

endure the natural outcome of his earlier licentiousness. His first

wife, whom he married at the beginning of his career, had lived but a

few years, leaving him a son, Constantine, whom he associated with him

on the throne, but who died after a lapse of ten years. Eudocia

Ingerina, whom Michael had compelled him to marry, had a son, Leo, who

succeeded Basil on the throne, but the emperor was ever haunted with the

suspicion that this lad was the son not of himself but of Michael. The

adventures of this empress and of Michael's sister, Thekla, who also

shared imperial honor, are sad proofs of the corruption of morals of the

age. With her brother's consent, Thekla had become the concubine of

Basil, and after he had assassinated Michael and ascended the throne,

Thekla consoled herself with other lovers. On one occasion it happened

that an attendant employed in the household of Thekla was waiting on the

emperor, when the latter asked the shameless question: "Who is living

with your mistress at present?" The attendant imprudently told the name

of the successful lover; Basil's jealousy was aroused, and he ordered

the paramour of the woman he had put aside to be seized, scourged, and

immured for life in a monastery. It is even said that he ill treated

Thekla and confiscated part of her property. But the Empress Eudocia

Ingerina avenged the unfortunate princess in a manner more pardonable in

the mistress of a besotted debauchee than in the wife of an emperor.

When her amours were discovered, the empress was prudent enough to avoid

scandal by merely compelling her lover to retire privately to a

monastery.

In pleasing contrast to the story of these licentious princesses,

revealing the absence of any shame in the high life of Constantinople,

is that of the widow Danielis who played the lady bountiful to Basil in

his earlier years, and to whom he delighted to show his gratitude after

he had mounted the throne.

Once when he was an attaché of the courtier Theophilitzes, whom Theodora

had sent on public business into the Peloponnesus, he fell sick at

Patras. A wealthy widow, Danielis by name, who had been struck with the

handsome looks of the gallant attaché, had him removed to her house and

carefully nursed him through his illness. When he recovered, she made

Basil a member of her family, by uniting him with her own son John in

those spiritual ties of brotherhood sanctioned by the Greek Church with

peculiar rites; also she bestowed on him considerable wealth so that

from that time on he could play well the part of a courtier, and had the

means to make himself the boon companion, friend, and colleague of the

erratic Michael.

The lasting friendship between the widow and the emperor constitutes the

most interesting episode in the checkered career of Basil. When he

became emperor, he displayed his gratitude by sending for the son of his

former benefactress and making him protospatharios, or chief of the

guards. He also urged the widow to visit him, and see her adopted son

seated on the throne. The account of her journey to Constantinople, is a

most valuable commentary on the life of Greek women in the ninth

century, and shows how vast was the wealth of the few on Greek soil, and

what an important part a wealthy widow could play in the affairs of

state; the story is as follows:

"The lady Danielis set off from Patras in a litter or covered couch,

carried on the shoulders of ten slaves; and the train which followed

her, destined to relieve these litter bearers, amounted to three hundred

persons. When she reached Constantinople, she was lodged in the palace

of Magnaura, appropriated for the reception of princely guests. The rich

presents she had prepared for the emperor astonished the inhabitants of

the capital, for no foreign monarch had ever offered gifts of equal

value to a Byzantine sovereign.

"The slaves that bore the gifts were themselves a part of the present,

and were all distinguished for their youth, beauty, and accomplishments.

Four hundred young men, one hundred eunuchs and one hundred maidens,

formed the living portion of this magnificent offering; while there were

in addition, a hundred pieces of the richest colored drapery, one

hundred pieces of soft woollen cloth, two hundred pieces of linen, and

one hundred of cambric, so fine that each piece could be enclosed in the

joint of a reed. To all this, a service of cups, dishes, and plates of

gold and silver was added. When Danielis reached Constantinople, she

found that the emperor had constructed a magnificent church as an

expiation for the murder of his benefactor, Michael III. She sent orders

to the Peloponnesus to manufacture carpets of unusual size, in order to

cover the whole floor, that they might protect the rich mosaic pavement,

in which a peacock with outspread tail astonished, by the extreme

brilliancy of its coloring, every one who beheld it. Before the widow

quitted Constantinople, she settled a considerable portion of her estate

in Greece on her son, the protospatharios, and on her adopted child, the

emperor, in joint property.

"After Basil's death, she again visited Constantinople; her own son was

dead, so she constituted the Emperor Leo VI. her sole heir. On quitting

the capital for the last time, she desired that the protospatharios,

Zenobius, might be dispatched to the Peloponnesus, for the purpose of

preparing a register of her extensive estate and immense property. She

died shortly after her return; and even the imperial officers were

amazed at the amount of her wealth; the quantity of gold coin, gold and

silver plate, works of art in bronze, furniture, rich stuffs in linen,

cotton, wool and silk, cattle and slaves, palaces and farms, formed an

inheritance that enriched even an Emperor of Constantinople. The slaves

of which Emperor Leo became the proprietor were so numerous that he

ordered three thousand to be enfranchised and sent to the _theme_ of

Longobardia (as Apulia was then called), where they were put in

possession of land which they cultivated as serfs. After the payment of

many legacies, and a division of part of the landed property, according

to the disposition of the testament, the emperor remained possessor of

eighty farms or villages."

This narrative furnishes a curious glimpse into the condition of society

in Greece during the latter part of the ninth century, which is the

period when the Greek race began to recover a numerical superiority and

prepare for the consolidation of its political ascendency over the

Slavonian colonists in the Peloponnesus.

It seems almost incredible that such wealth and power could be

concentrated in the hands of one woman; and only when we consider the

grinding poverty of the masses of the population through the extortions

of the rich and the oppressions of the governing classes can we account

for the resources which permitted the lavish luxuries of the

aristocrats.

The fourscore years succeeding the death of Basil the Macedonian were

taken up by the two long reigns of Leo VI.--reputed to be the son of

Basil, but in all probability the son of Michael,--and Leo's son,

Constantine Porphyrogenitus. These years were important for literature,

as both son and grandson of the founder of the dynasty were authors of

renown; but in historical interest and especially as regards the story

of Byzantine womanhood they were the most uneventful and monotonous in

the many centuries of the Empire's existence.

Constantine Porphyrogenitus was the child (by his fourth wife) of Leo's

old age, and was only seven years old when he fell heir to the Empire.

He was brought up under the tutelage of guardians; and so devoted was he

to the composing of books and the painting of pictures, that he was

forty years of age before he assumed entire control of the reins of

government; yet, twenty years of supreme power fell to his lot.

In his works, we have a beautiful picture of his domestic life. We do

not know much of his wife, Helena, but he was devoted to his son Roman

us, a gay, pleasure-loving prince, and to his daughters, of whom the

youngest, Agatha, was his favorite secretary and the constant companion

of his studies. "Seated by his side, she read to him all the official

reports of the ministers; and when his health began to fail it was

through her intermediation that he consented to transact public

business. That such a proceeding created no alarming abuses and produced

neither serious complaints nor family quarrels is more honorable to the

heart of the princess than is her successful performance of her task to

her good sense and ability."

The most interesting figure about him, however, was his daughter-in-law

Theophano, who was destined to play a fatal part in the story of the

Basilian house. Theophano was lowly born, and her beauty and grace could

never win the court circle and the public to pardon a low alliance which

disgraced the majesty of the purple. Hence, the vilest scandals were

circulated about her, which must be taken with some degree of allowance.

According to the chroniclers, she was wildly ambitious and utterly

lacking in natural affection, charming in manner, but cruel in heart.

She and Romanus made a most striking couple as they appeared together in

the court or took part in the public processions. Romanus was

conspicuous for his beauty and strength, tall and erect, fair and florid

in complexion, with aquiline nose and sparkling eyes. Theophano was of

the pure Greek type in features, yet small of stature and of infinite

ease of manner and movement. According to the Byzantine writers, she

craved eagerly for supreme power, and poisoned her father-in-law to

hasten her husband's elevation to the throne. Constantine did not take

enough of the beverage administered by her hand to end his life, but his

constitution was weakened, and after a short period of time he passed

away. Romanus's name was also embraced in the story, he having been

induced, through the wiles of his wife, to enter into a conspiracy

against their father and benefactor. But Constantine's picture of his

own family life is so amiable, that it is as difficult to give credence

to the accusation brought against Romanus and Theophano as it is to

Procopius's tales regarding Theodora Justinian.

Romanus II. had held the throne but five years when he too sickened and

died, and it was rumored that Theophano had mingled for him the same

deadly draught which she had prepared for her father-in-law. The young

empress was left as regent of her two little sons, Basil, aged seven,

and Constantine, who was only two. She aspired first to reign alone; but

soon realizing the Byzantine dislike for feminine rule, she found a

protector and a guardian for her sons in Nicephorus, the most valiant

soldier of the Empire. He was given the hand of the beautiful

empress-dowager, and was crowned as the colleague of the two young

Cæsars. His personal ugliness and deformity rendered it impossible for

Theophano to love him, and the match was one of interest rather than of

affection. But Nicephorus proved himself a most affectionate co-regent,

and paid scrupulous regard to the rights of the young princes. Much of

his time was spent in the field, and many were the victories which he

won for the Byzantine arms. But even his great achievements could not

enchain the heart of the capricious empress.

Theophano, during the absence of her grim and ugly husband, had become

enamored of his favorite nephew, John Zimisces, who was also a warrior

of note. John listened to the voice of the tempter, not so much for lust

as for ambition, and conspired with the empress against his uncle and

benefactor. The treacherous murder was accomplished one December night

in the year 969, in the imperial apartments of the palace.

Some of the conspirators had been concealed in the chamber of Theophano.

John Zimisces and his principal companions crossed the Bosporus in a

small boat, landed under the palace walls, and in the darkness of night

silently ascended a ladder of ropes which was cast down by the

handmaidens of the empress. Nicephorus, as was his custom, was sleeping

on a bearskin on the floor of his chamber, when he was awakened by the

noisy entrance of the conspirators. Their daggers were drawn, and, at

the word from John, were plunged into the body of the valiant general,

who exclaimed in his death agony: "Oh, God! grant me thy mercy." Though

by this base deed John came to the throne, he showed deep contrition for

the slaughter of his uncle; and through the connivance of the patriarch

and treachery toward his friends, he avoided marriage with the partner

of his guilt.

"On the day of his coronation, he was stopped on the threshold of Saint

Sophia by the intrepid patriarch, who charged his conscience with the

deed of treason and blood, and required as a sign of repentance that he

should separate himself from his more criminal associate. This sally of

apostolic zeal was not offensive to the prince, since he could neither

love nor trust a woman who had violated the most sacred obligation; and

Theophano, instead of sharing his imperial throne, was dismissed with

ignominy from his bed and palace." Deprived of her place as regent, and

repudiated by her sons on whom she had brought shame, Theophano passed

the remaining years of her life in a monastery.

Of the two sons of Theophano, Basil II., after a long reign of over half

a century,--963-1025,--distinguished by his many victories over the

Bulgarians, died childless, and was succeeded by his brother,

Constantine IX., who was destined to be the last male of the Macedonian

house. After his short reign of three years, the story of the remaining

twenty-nine years of the Basilian dynasty gathers itself about the names

of his two elderly daughters, Zoe and Theodora, and the series of

princes who owed their position on the throne solely to them. It is a

period of decadence, and the reader cannot help but pity the two sisters

who were endeavoring to uphold a decaying dynasty in the midst of

corruption and folly. Zoe constitutes the central figure of the period;

but Theodora was vastly her superior, and casts a sort of glamour about

the closing years of the house of Basil the Macedonian.

Zoe, however, was notable not so much for her ability to govern as for

her extraordinary vanity and love of adulation. Yet, for some reason,

she had reached the age of forty-eight before she found a husband. Upon

his deathbed, Constantine summoned Romanus Argyrus, an aged nobleman, to

the palace and informed him that he had been selected to mount the

throne, but that he must divorce his wife and marry one of the imperial

princesses. Romanus hesitated, not that he cared not for the throne, but

because the conditions were too severe; he loved his wife, and he did

not fancy joining his lot with one of the elderly maidens. But he was

told that he must either obey or lose his eyesight. To relieve the

situation, his wife, with self-sacrificing devotion, took the veil and

entered a monastery. Constantine destined Theodora, the younger and more

capable of his daughters, for the throne as spouse to Romanus, but

through religious compunctions she refused to marry the husband of

another woman, and consequently Zoe was chosen as bride and empress at

the tender age of forty-eight. Romanus was sixty when he ascended the

throne.

Zoe never forgave her sister Theodora the fact that because of her more

stable character their father had offered his younger daughter the

throne; Romanus had no love for her because she had refused him.

Consequently, spies were set over her movements, and every effort was

made to connect her with the various plots of courtiers who had designs

upon the throne. Finally, accused of being privy to the plans of one of

the most hostile of the courtiers, Theodora was driven from her palace

and imprisoned in the monastery of Petrion; sometime after, Zoe, upon a

visit to the monastery, compelled her sister to assume the monastic

habit.

Romanus and Zoe were never an affectionate couple. He devoted himself

strictly to affairs of state and looked with indifference upon the many

intrigues of his amorous spouse, who, like Queen Elizabeth, believed

herself to be the mistress of all hearts. But one of these amours,

perhaps, cost him his life.

The royal consorts had turned the management of the palace largely over

to eunuchs. One of these, John the Paphlagonian, became very powerful,

and, as he was precluded from the imperial title himself, sought to

raise a brother to that high honor. This brother, Michael, had begun

life as a goldsmith and money changer, but his brother appointed him to

a place in the imperial household. Owing to his personal beauty and

graceful and dignified manners, he soon became the favorite chamberlain

to his royal mistress. Unfortunately, however, he was subject to sudden

and violent attacks of epilepsy. This, instead of repelling Zoe, merely

aroused her pity, and she fell in love with her handsome servant and

carried on an amorous intrigue with him. Romanus was duly informed of

his wife's conduct, but remained indifferent to it and probably deemed

the accusation untenable because of the epilepsy of Michael. Zonaras, an

ancient chronicler, tells the story that in the night the emperor

frequently called Michael to rub his feet when he was in bed with Zoe.

And he naively adds: "Who can refrain from supposing that the hands of

the young valet-de-chambre did not find an opportunity of touching also

the feet of the empress?" During the last two years of his life, Romanus

was afflicted with a wasting disease and rumor had it that it was due to

a slow poison administered either by Zoe, or by the eunuch John, who

wished to bring about his brother's elevation. At any rate, in his dying

moments, before the breath had left his body, the empress quitted his

bedside to take measures with John the Paphlagonian for placing her

epileptic paramour on the throne.

The moment Romanus III. ceased to live, Zoe called an assembly of the

officers of state in the palace and invested Michael IV. with the diadem

and the purple robe. He was straightway proclaimed Emperor of the

Romans, and was formally seated beside Zoe on the vacant throne. The

patriarch Alexius was filled with disgust at this flagrant display of

contempt for decency, but for reasons of state and to avoid greater

scandal, he celebrated the marriage between the empress and her

paramour. "Thus a single night saw the aged Zoe the wife of two

emperors, a widow and a bride, and Michael a menial and a sovereign."

Michael was twenty-eight when he wedded Zoe at the age of fifty-four and

ascended the throne. In spite of his humble origin, he showed himself a

capable ruler, and succeeded in repelling some of the enemies of the

Empire. But his usefulness was hindered by his epileptic fits and by the

unfriendly attitude of his subjects who regarded his disease as evidence

of the divine wrath because of his ingratitude toward his benefactor,

Romanus. He became a hopeless invalid before the age of thirty-six, and,

when he felt his end approaching, he renounced the world and all the

vanities of imperial station, and retired to the monastery of Saint

Anarghyras where he became a monk. He died on December 10, 1041, after a

reign of seven years and eight months.

After the death of her second husband, the irrepressible Zoe at first

attempted to carry on the Empire alone, with the assistance of the

eunuchs of her household, but the prevailing aversion to female

sovereignty and her own disinclination to be without companionship of

the male sex led her to a realization of the necessity of giving the

Empire a male sovereign. The alternative which presented itself was

whether she should adopt a son or marry a husband. Having twice

experienced matrimonial bliss, but never having tasted the joys of

filial devotion, for the sake of a new sensation Zoe adopted the former

expedient.

She selected for the honor another Michael, the nephew of her late

husband, but, as she was aware of his volatile character, she made him

take a solemn oath, before conferring on him the crown, that he would

ever regard her as his benefactress and treat her as his mother. Michael

was ready enough to promise everything, and the diadem was placed on his

head.

But as soon as he was established in power, Michael V. revealed his

meanness of soul, and showed both insolence and ingratitude toward the

woman through whom he had attained his elevation. He finally carried his

insolence so far that he banished the empress Zoe to Prince's Island and

compelled her to adopt the monastic habit. But this base act was more

than the people could stand. Their fury burst through every restraint.

The mob paraded the streets and proclaimed the reign of Michael at an

end. They threatened to seize him and scatter his bones abroad like

dust. An assembly was held in the church of Saint Sophia, to which the

aged Theodora was brought from the monastery of Petrion, and she was

proclaimed joint empress with her sister Zoe. In the meantime, Michael,

alarmed at the rapid and overwhelming spread of the sedition, had Zoe

brought back to the palace, and endeavored to pacify the people by

persuading her to appear on a balcony overlooking the Hippodrome. But it

was impossible for him to stem the current of the popular fury. The

palace was stormed, and three thousand people were killed in the

conflict which followed. Michael saved his life by escaping to the

monastery of Studion; his eyes were finally put out, and he passed the

rest of his days in the garb of a monk.

Zoe immediately entered upon the duties and responsibilities of power,

of which for a time she had been deprived, and she endeavored to force

her sister back into religious retirement; but the Senate and people

insisted upon the joint reign of the two sisters. But this singular

union lasted less than two months. In temperament and in interests the

two sisters were antipodal. Different factions were their support, the

clerical party favoring the devout Theodora, and the worldlings the

volatile Zoe. For a time, the twain appeared always side by side at the

meetings of the Senate and at the courts of justice. Unlike Zoe,

Theodora showed great aptitude for public business, and took pleasure in

performing her administrative duties.

Zoe's plots against her sister being frustrated, and recognizing that

Theodora was rapidly gaining the ascendency, she bethought herself of

taking a third husband, to whom she might resign the throne and thus

deprive her sister of the influence she was rapidly acquiring.

Hence, at the advanced age of sixty-two, Zoe began to cast about for a

third husband, in spite of the canons of the Church, which forbade a

third marriage. Her thoughts first turned to a powerful nobleman,

Constantine Dalasennus, whom her father had once chosen for her in her

earlier years, and about whom her recollections cast a halo of romance.

But in place of the gallant hero of her imagination she found she had

summoned to the palace for an interview a stern old gentleman, who

strongly expressed his disapprobation of the existing imperial system;

who censured in unmeasured terms the vices of the court, and who took no

pains to conceal his contempt for her own questionable conduct. Such a

spouse would have been a most excellent antidote for the prevailing

corruption of the Empire, but Zoe had no desire to submit to the control

of so severe a master, and she quickly made up her mind to look

elsewhere.

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