_Othus_. ------------- This superb successor
Of the earth's mistress, as thou vainly speakest,
Stands midst these ages as, on the wide ocean,
The last spared fragment, of a spacious land,
That in some grand and awful ministration
Of mighty nature has engulfed been,
Doth lift aloft its dark and rocky cliffs
O'er the wild waste around, and sadly frowns
In lonely majesty.
CONSTANTINE PALEOLOGUS, _Scene I_.
Our scene in the capital of the Eastern Empire opens at what is termed
the Golden Gate of Constantinople; and it may be said in passing, that
this splendid epithet is not so lightly bestowed as may be expected
from the inflated language of the Greeks, which throws such an
appearance of exaggeration about them, their buildings, and monuments.
The massive, and seemingly impregnable walls with which Constantine
surrounded the city, were greatly improved and added to by Theodosius,
called the Great. A triumphal arch, decorated with the architecture of
a better, though already a degenerate age, and serving, at the same
time, as a useful entrance, introduced the stranger into the city. On
the top, a statue of bronze represented Victory, the goddess who had
inclined the scales of battle in favour of Theodosius; and, as the
artist determined to be wealthy if he could not be tasteful, the gilded
ornaments with which the inscriptions were set off, readily led to the
popular name of the gate. Figures carved in a distant and happier
period of the art, glanced from the walls, without assorting happily
with the taste in which these were built. The more modern ornaments of
the Golden Gate bore, at the period of our story, an aspect very
different from those indicating the "conquest brought back to the
city," and the "eternal peace" which the flattering inscriptions
recorded as having been extorted by the sword of Theodosius. Four or
five military engines, for throwing darts of the largest size, were
placed upon the summit of the arch; and what had been originally
designed as a specimen of architectural embellishment, was now applied
to the purposes of defence.
It was the hour of evening, and the cool and refreshing breeze from the
sea inclined each passenger, whose business was not of a very urgent
description, to loiter on his way, and cast a glance at the romantic
gateway, and the various interesting objects of nature and art, which
the city of Constantinople presented, as well to the inhabitants as to
strangers. [Footnote: The impression which the imperial city was
calculated to make on such visitors as the Crusaders of the West, is
given by the ancient French chronicler Villehardouin, who was present
at the capture of A. D. 1203. "When we had come," he says, "within
three leagues, to a certain Abbey, then we could plainly survey
Constantinople. There the ships and the galleys came to anchor; and
much did they who had never been in that quarter before, gaze upon the
city. That such a city could be in the world they had never conceived,
and they were never weary of staring at the high walls and towers with
which it was entirely encompassed, the rich palaces and lofty churches,
of which there were so many that no one could have believed it, if he
had not seen with his own eyes that city, the Queen of all cities. And
know that there was not so bold a heart there, that it did not feel
some terror at the strength of Constantinople."--Chap. 66.
Again,--"And now many of those of the host went to see Constantinople
within, and the rich palaces and stately churches, of which it
possesses so many, and the riches of the place, which are such as no
other city ever equalled. I need not speak of the sanctuaries, which
are as many as are in all the world beside."--Chap. 100.]
One individual, however, seemed to indulge more wonder and curiosity
than could have been expected from a native of the city, and looked
upon the rarities around with a quick and startled eye, that marked an
imagination awakened by sights that were new and strange. The
appearance of this person bespoke a foreigner of military habits, who
seemed, from his complexion, to have his birthplace far from the
Grecian metropolis, whatever chance had at present brought him to the
Golden Gate, or whatever place he filled in the Emperor's service.
This young man was about two-and-twenty years old, remarkably
finely-formed and athletic--qualities well understood by the citizens
of Constantinople, whose habits of frequenting the public games had
taught them at least an acquaintance with the human person, and where,
in the select of their own countrymen, they saw the handsomest
specimens of the human race.
These were, however, not generally so tall as the stranger at the
Golden Gate, while his piercing blue eyes, and the fair hair which
descended from under a light helmet gaily ornamented with silver,
bearing on its summit a crest resembling a dragon in the act of
expanding his terrible jaws, intimated a northern descent, to which the
extreme purity of his complexion also bore witness. His beauty,
however, though he was eminently distinguished both in features and in
person, was not liable to the charge of effeminacy. From this it was
rescued, both by his strength, and by the air of confidence and
self-possession with which the youth seemed to regard the wonders
around him, not indicating the stupid and helpless gaze of a mind
equally inexperienced, and incapable of receiving instruction, but
expressing the bold intellect which at once understands the greater
part of the information which it receives, and commands the spirit to
toil in search of the meaning of that which it has not comprehended, or
may fear it has misinterpreted. This look of awakened attention and
intelligence gave interest to the young barbarian; and while the
bystanders were amazed that a savage from some unknown or remote corner
of the universe should possess a noble countenance bespeaking a mind so
elevated, they respected him for the composure with which he witnessed
so many things, the fashion, the splendour, nay, the very use of which,
must have been recently new to him.
The young man's personal equipments exhibited a singular mixture of
splendour and effeminacy, and enabled the experienced spectators to
ascertain his nation, and the capacity in which he served. We have
already mentioned the fanciful and crested helmet, which was a
distinction of the foreigner, to which the reader must add in his
imagination a small cuirass, or breastplate of silver, so sparingly
fashioned as obviously to afford little security to the broad chest, on
which it rather hung like an ornament than covered as a buckler; nor,
if a well-thrown dart, or strongly-shod arrow, should alight full on
this rich piece of armour, was there much hope that it could protect
the bosom which it partially shielded.
From betwixt the shoulders hung down over the back what had the
appearance of a bearskin; but, when more closely examined, it was only
a very skilful imitation, of the spoils of the chase, being in reality
a surcoat composed of strong shaggy silk, so woven as to exhibit, at a
little distance, no inaccurate representation of a bear's hide. A light
crooked sword, or scimitar, sheathed in a scabbard of gold and ivory,
hung by the left side of the stranger, the ornamented hilt of which
appeared much too small for the large-jointed hand of the young
Hercules who was thus gaily attired. A dress, purple in colour, and
setting close to the limbs, covered the body of the soldier to a little
above the knee; from thence the knees and legs were bare to the calf,
to which the reticulated strings of the sandals rose from the instep,
the ligatures being there fixed by a golden coin of the reigning
Emperor, converted into a species of clasp for the purpose.
But a weapon which seemed more particularly adapted to the young
barbarian's size, and incapable of being used by a man of less
formidable limbs and sinews, was a battle-axe, the firm iron-guarded
staff of which was formed of tough elm, strongly inlaid and defended
with brass, while many a plate and ring were indented in the handle, to
hold the wood and the steel parts together. The axe itself was composed
of two blades, turning different ways, with a sharp steel spike
projecting from between them. The steel part, both spike and blade, was
burnished as bright as a mirror; and though its ponderous size must
have been burdensome to one weaker than himself, yet the young soldier
carried it as carelessly along, as if it were but a feather's weight.
It was, indeed, a skilfully constructed weapon, so well balanced, that
it was much lighter in striking and in recovery, than he who saw it in
the hands of another could easily have believed.
The carrying arms of itself showed that the military man was a
stranger. The native Greeks had that mark of a civilized people, that
they never bore weapons during the time of peace, unless the wearer
chanced to be numbered among those whose military profession and
employment required them to be always in arms. Such soldiers by
profession were easily distinguished from the peaceful citizens; and it
was with some evident show of fear as well as dislike, that the
passengers observed to each other, that the stranger was a Varangian,
an expression which intimated a barbarian of the imperial body-guard.
To supply the deficiency of valour among his own subjects, and to
procure soldiers who should be personally dependent on the Emperor, the
Greek sovereigns had been, for a great many years, in the custom of
maintaining in their pay, as near their person as they could, the
steady services of a select number of mercenaries in the capacity of
body-guards, which were numerous enough, when their steady discipline
and inflexible loyalty were taken in conjunction with their personal
strength and indomitable courage, to defeat, not only any traitorous
attempt on the imperial person, but to quell open rebellions, unless
such were supported by a great proportion of the military force. Their
pay was therefore liberal; their rank and established character for
prowess gave them a degree of consideration among the people, whose
reputation for valour had not for some ages stood high; and if, as
foreigners, and the members of a privileged body, the Varangians were
sometimes employed in arbitrary and unpopular services, the natives
were so apt to fear, while they disliked them, that the hardy strangers
disturbed themselves but little about the light in which they were
regarded by the inhabitants of Constantinople. Their dress and
accoutrements, while within the city, partook of the rich, or rather
gaudy costume, which we have described, bearing only a sort of affected
resemblance to that which the Varangians wore in their native forests.
But the individuals of this select corps were, when their services were
required beyond the city, furnished with armour and weapons more
resembling those which they were accustomed to wield in their own
country, possessing much less of the splendour of war, and a far
greater portion of its effective terrors; and thus they were summoned
to take the field.
This body of Varangians (which term is, according to one interpretation
merely a general expression for barbarians) was, in an early age of the
empire, formed of the roving and piratical inhabitants of the north,
whom a love of adventure, the greatest perhaps that ever was indulged,
and a contempt of danger, which never had a parallel in the history of
human nature, drove forth upon the pathless ocean. "Piracy," says
Gibbon, with his usual spirit, "was the exercise, the trade, the glory,
and the virtue of the Scandinavian youth. Impatient of a bleak climate
and narrow limits, they started from the banquet, grasped their arms,
sounded their horn, ascended their ships, and explored every coast that
promised either spoil or settlement." [Footnote: Decline and Fall of
the Roman Empire. Chap. lv. vol. x. p. 221, 8vo edition.]
The conquests made in France and Britain by these wild sea-kings, as
they were called, have obscured the remembrance of other northern
champions, who, long before the time of Comnenus, made excursions as
far as Constantinople, and witnessed with their own eyes the wealth and
the weakness of the Grecian empire itself. Numbers found their way
thither through the pathless wastes of Russia; others navigated the
Mediterranean in their sea-serpents, as they termed their piratical
vessels. The Emperors, terrified at the appearance of these daring
inhabitants of the frozen zone, had recourse to the usual policy of a
rich and unwarlike people, bought with gold the service of their
swords, and thus formed a corps of satellites more distinguished for
valour than the famed Praetorian Bands of Rome, and, perhaps because
fewer in number, unalterably loyal to their new princes.
But, at a later period of the empire, it began to be more difficult for
the Emperors to obtain recruits for their favourite and selected corps,
the northern nations having now in a great measure laid aside the
piratical and roving habits, which had driven their ancestors from the
straits of Elsinore to those of Sestos and Abydos. The corps of the
Varangians must therefore have died out, or have been filled up with
less worthy materials, had not the conquests made by the Normans in the
far distant west, sent to the aid of Comnenus a large body of the
dispossessed inhabitants of the islands of Britain, and particularly of
England, who furnished recruits to his chosen body-guard. These were,
in fact, Anglo-Saxons; but, in the confused idea of geography received
at the court of Constantinople, they were naturally enough called
Anglo-Danes, as their native country was confounded with the Thule of
the ancients, by which expression the archipelago of Zetland and Orkney
is properly to be understood, though, according to the notions of the
Greeks, it comprised either Denmark or Britain. The emigrants, however,
spoke a language not very dissimilar to the original Varangians, and
adopted the name more readily, that it seemed to remind them of their
unhappy fate, the appellation being in one sense capable of being
interpreted as exiles. Excepting one or two chief commanders, whom the
Emperor judged worthy of such high trust, the Varangians were officered
by men of their own nation; and with so many privileges, being joined
by many of their countrymen from time to time, as the crusades,
pilgrimages, or discontent at home, drove fresh supplies of the
Anglo-Saxons, or Anglo-Danes, to the east, the Varangians subsisted in
strength to the last days of the Greek empire, retaining their native
language, along with the unblemished loyalty, and unabated martial
spirit, which characterised their fathers.
This account of the Varangian Guard is strictly historical, and might
be proved by reference to the Byzantine historians; most of whom, and
also Villehardouin's account of the taking of the city of
Constantinople by the Franks and Venetians, make repeated mention of
this celebrated and singular body of Englishmen, forming a mercenary
guard attendant on the person of the Greek Emperors. [Footnote: Ducange
has poured forth a tide of learning on this curious subject, which will
be found in his Notes on Villehardouin's Constantinople under the
French Emperors.--Paris, 1637, folio, p. 196. Gibbon's History may also
be consulted, vol. x. p. 231.
Villehardouin, in describing the siege of Constantinople, A. D. 1203,
says, "'Li murs fu mult garnis d'Anglois et de Danois,"--hence the
dissertation of Ducange here quoted, and several articles besides in
his Glossarium, as _Varangi_, Warengangi, &c. The etymology of the name
is left uncertain, though the German _fort-ganger_, _i. e._ forth-goer,
wanderer, _exile_, seems the most probable. The term occurs in various
Italian and Sicilian documents, anterior to the establishment of the
Varangian Guards at Constantinople, and collected by Muratori: as, for
instance, in an edict of one of the Lombard kings, "Omnes Warengrangi,
qui de extens finibus in regni nostri finibus advenerint seque sub
scuto potestatis nostrae subdiderint, legibus nostris Longobardorum
vivere debeant,"--and in another, "De Warengangis, nobilibus,
mediocribus, et rusticis hominibus, qui usque nune in terra vestra
fugiti sunt, habeatis eos."--_Muratori_, vol. ii. p. 261.
With regard to the origin of the Varangian Guard, the most distinct
testimony is that of Ordericus Vittalis, who says, "When therefore the
English had lost their liberty, they turned themselves with zeal to
discover the means of throwing off the unaccustomed yoke. Some fled to
Sueno, King of the Danes, to excite him to the recovery of the
inheritance of his grandfather, Canute. Not a few fled into exile in
other regions, either from the mere desire of escaping from under the
Norman rule, or in the hope of acquiring wealth, and so being one day
in a condition to renew the struggle at home. Some of these, in the
bloom of youth, penetrated into a far distant land, and offered
themselves to the military service of the Constantinopolitan
Emperor--that wise prince, against whom Robert Guiscard, Duke of
Apulia, had then raised all his forces. The English exiles were
favourably received, and opposed in battle to the Normans, for whose
encounter the Greeks themselves were too weak. Alexius began to build a
town for the English, a little above Constantinople, at a place called
_Chevelot_, but the trouble of the Normans from Sicily still
increasing, he soon recalled them to the capital, and intrusted the
princial palace with all its treasures to their keeping. This was the
method in which the Saxon English found their way to Ionia, where they
still remain, highly valued by the Emperor and the people."--Book iv.
p. 508.]
Having said enough to explain why an individual Varangian should be
strolling about the Golden Gate, we may proceed in the story which we
have commenced.
Let it not be thought extraordinary, that this soldier of the
life-guard should be looked upon with some degree of curiosity by the
passing citizens. It must be supposed, that, from their peculiar
duties, they were not encouraged to hold frequent intercourse or
communication with the inhabitants; and, besides that they had duties
of police occasionally to exercise amongst them, which made them
generally more dreaded than beloved, they were at the same time
conscious, that their high pay, splendid appointments, and immediate
dependence on the Emperor, were subjects of envy to the other forces.
They, therefore, kept much in the neighbourhood of their own barracks,
and were seldom seen straggling remote from them, unless they had a
commission of government intrusted to their charge.
This being the case, it was natural that a people so curious as the
Greeks should busy themselves in eyeing the stranger as he loitered in
one spot, or wandered to and fro, like a man who either could not find
some place which he was seeking, or had failed to meet some person with
whom he had an appointment, for which the ingenuity of the passengers
found a thousand different and inconsistent reasons. "A Varangian,"
said one citizen to another, "and upon duty--ahem! Then I presume to
say in your ear"----
"What do you imagine is his object?" enquired the party to whom this
information was addressed.
"Gods and goddesses! do you think I can tell you? but suppose that he
is lurking here to hear what folk say of the Emperor," answered the
_quid-nunc_ of Constantinople.
"That is not likely,"' said the querist; "these Varangians do not speak
our language, and are not extremely well fitted for spies, since few of
them pretend to any intelligible notion of the Grecian tongue. It is
not likely, I think, that the Emperor would employ as a spy a man who
did not understand the language of the country."
"But if there are, as all men fancy," answered the politician, "persons
among these barbarian soldiers who can speak almost all languages, you
will admit that such are excellently qualified for seeing clearly
around them, since they possess the talent of beholding and reporting,
while no one has the slightest idea of suspecting them."
"It may well be," replied his companion; "but since we see so clearly
the fox's foot and paws protruding from beneath the seeming sheep's
fleece, or rather, by your leave, the _bear's_ hide yonder, had we not
better be jogging homeward, ere it be pretended we have insulted a
Varangian Guard?"
This surmise of danger insinuated by the last speaker, who was a much
older and more experienced politician than his friend, determined both
on a hasty retreat. They adjusted their cloaks, caught hold of each
other's arm, and, speaking fast and thick as they started new subjects
of suspicion, they sped, close coupled together, towards their
habitations, in a different and distant quarter of the town.
In the meantime, the sunset was nigh over; and the long shadows of the
walls, bulwarks, and arches, were projecting from the westward in
deeper and blacker shade. The Varangian seemed tired of the short and
lingering circle in which he had now trodden for more than an hour, and
in which he still loitered like an unliberated spirit, which cannot
leave the haunted spot till licensed by the spell which has brought it
hither. Even so the barbarian, casting an impatient glance to the sun,
which was setting in a blaze of light behind a rich grove of
cypress-trees, looked for some accommodation on the benches of stone
which were placed under shadow of the triumphal arch of Theodosius,
drew the axe, which was his principal weapon, close to his side,
wrapped his cloak about him, and, though his dress was not in other
respects a fit attire for slumber, any more than the place well
selected for repose, yet in less than three minutes he was fast asleep.
The irresistible impulse which induced him to seek for repose in a
place very indifferently fitted for the purpose, might be weariness
consequent upon the military vigils, which had proved a part of his
duty on the preceding evening. At the same time, his spirit was so
alive within him, even while he gave way to this transient fit of
oblivion, that he remained almost awake even with shut eyes, and no
hound ever seemed to sleep more lightly than our Anglo-Saxon at the
Golden Gate of Constantinople.
And now the slumberer, as the loiterer had been before, was the subject
of observation to the accidental passengers. Two men entered the porch
in company. One was a somewhat slight made, but alert-looking man, by
name Lysimachus, and by profession a designer. A roll of paper in his
hand, with a little satchel containing a few chalks, or pencils,
completed his stock in trade; and his acquaintance with the remains of
ancient art gave him a power of talking on the subject, which
unfortunately bore more than due proportion to his talents of
execution. His companion, a magnificent-looking man in form, and so far
resembling the young barbarian, but more clownish and peasant-like in
the expression of his features, was Stephanos the wrestler, well known
in the Palestra.
"Stop here, my friend," said the artist, producing his pencils, "till I
make a sketch for my youthful Hercules."
"I thought Hercules had been a Greek," said the wrestler. "This
sleeping animal is a barbarian."
The tone intimated some offence, and the designer hastened to soothe
the displeasure which he had thoughtlessly excited. Stephanos, known by
the surname of Castor, who was highly distinguished for gymnastic
exercises, was a sort of patron to the little artist, and not unlikely
by his own reputation to bring the talents of his friend into notice.
"Beauty and strength," said the adroit artist, "are of no particular
nation; and may our Muse never deign me her prize, but it is my
greatest pleasure to compare them, as existing in the uncultivated
savage of the north, and when they are found in the darling of an
enlightened people, who has added the height of gymnastic skill to the
most distinguished natural qualities, such as we can now only see in
the works of Phidias and Praxiteles--or in our living model of the
gymnastic champions of antiquity."
"Nay, I acknowledge that the Varangian is a proper man," said the
athletic hero, softening his tone; "but the poor savage hath not,
perhaps, in his lifetime, had a single drop of oil on his bosom!
Hercules instituted the Isthmian Games"---
"But hold! what sleeps he with, wrapt so close in his bear-skin?" said
the artist. "Is it a club?"
"Away, away, my friend!" cried Stephanos, as they looked closer on the
sleeper. "Do you not know that is the instrument of their barbarous
office? They do not war with swords or lances, as if destined to attack
men of flesh and blood; but with maces and axes, as if they were to
hack limbs formed of stone, and sinews of oak. I will wager my crown
[of withered parsley] that he lies here to arrest some distinguished
commander who has offended the government! He would not have been thus
formidably armed otherwise--Away, away, good Lysimachus; let us respect
the slumbers of the bear."
So saying, the champion of the Palestra made off with less apparent
confidence than his size and strength might have inspired.
Others, now thinly straggling, passed onward as the evening closed, and
the shadows of the cypress-trees fell darker around. Two females of the
lower rank cast their eyes on the sleeper. "Holy Maria!" said one, "if
he does not put me in mind of the Eastern tale, how the Genie brought a
gallant young prince from his nuptial chamber in Egypt, and left him
sleeping at the gate of Damascus. I will awake the poor lamb, lest he
catch harm from the night dew."
"Harm?" answered the older and crosser looking woman. "Ay, such harm as
the cold water of the Cydnus does to the wild-swan. A lamb?--ay,
forsooth! Why he's a wolf or a bear, at least a Varangian, and no
modest matron would exchange a word with such an unmannered barbarian.
I'll tell you what one of, these English Danes did to me"----
So saying, she drew on her companion, who followed with some
reluctance, seeming to listen to her gabble, while she looked back upon
the sleeper.
The total disappearance of the sun, and nearly at the same time the
departure of the twilight, which lasts so short time in that tropical
region--one of the few advantages which a more temperate climate
possesses over it, being the longer continuance of that sweet and
placid light--gave signal to the warders of the city to shut the
folding leaves of the Golden Gate, leaving a wicket lightly bolted for
the passage of those whom business might have detained too late without
the walls, and indeed for all who chose to pay a small coin. The
position and apparent insensibility of the Varangian did not escape
those who had charge of the gate, of whom there was a strong guard,
which belonged to the ordinary Greek forces.
"By Castor and by Pollux," said the centurion--for the Greeks swore by
the ancient deities, although they no longer worshipped them, and
preserved those military distinctions with which "the steady Romans
shook the world," although they were altogether degenerated from their
original manners--"By Castor and Pollux, comrades, we cannot gather
gold in this gate, according as its legend tells us: yet it will be our
fault if we cannot glean a goodly crop of silver; and though the golden
age be the most ancient and honourable, yet in this degenerate time it
is much if we see a glimpse of the inferior metal."
"Unworthy are we to follow the noble centurion Harpax," answered one of
the soldiers of the watch, who showed the shaven head and the single
tuft [Footnote: One tuft is left on the shaven head of the Moslem, for
the angel to grasp by when conveying him to Paradise.] of a Mussulman,
"if we do not hold silver a sufficient cause to bestir ourselves, when
there has been no gold to be had--as, by the faith of an honest man, I
think we can hardly tell its colour--whether out of the imperial
treasury, or obtained at the expense of individuals, for many long
moons !"
"But this silver," said the centurion, "thou shalt see with thine own
eye, and hear it ring a knell in the purse which holds our common
stock." "Which _did_ hold it, as thou wouldst say, most valiant
commander," replied the inferior warder; "but what that purse holds
now, save a few miserable oboli for purchasing certain pickled potherbs
and salt fish, to relish our allowance of stummed wine, I cannot tell,
but willingly give my share of the contents to the devil, if either
purse or platter exhibits symptom of any age richer than the age of
copper."
"I will replenish our treasury," said the centurion, "were our stock
yet lower than it is. Stand up close by the wicket, my masters. Bethink
you we are the Imperial Guards, or the guards of the Imperial City, it
is all one, and let us have no man rush past us on a sudden;--and now
that we are on our guard, I will unfold to you--But stop," said the
valiant centurion, "are we all here true brothers? Do all well
understand the ancient and laudable customs of our watch--keeping all
things secret which concern the profit and advantage of this our vigil,
and aiding and abetting the common cause, without information or
treachery?"
"You are strangely suspicious to-night," answered the sentinel.
"Methinks we have stood by you without tale-telling in matters which
were more weighty. Have you forgot the passage of the jeweller--which
was neither the gold nor silver age; but if there were a diamond one"--
"Peace, good Ismail the Infidel," said the centurion,--"for, I thank
Heaven, we are of all religions, so it is to be hoped we must have the
true one amongst us,--Peace, I say; it is unnecessary to prove thou
canst keep new secrets, by ripping up old ones. Come hither--look
through the wicket to the stone bench, on the shady side of the grand
porch--tell me, old lad, what dost thou see there?"
"A man asleep," said Ismail. "By Heaven, I think from what I can see by
the moonlight, that it is one of those barbarians, one of those island
dogs, whom the Emperor sets such store by!"
"And can thy fertile brain," said the centurion, "spin nothing out of
his present situation, tending towards our advantage?"
"Why, ay," said Ismail; "they have large pay, though they are not only
barbarians, but pagan dogs, in comparison with us Moslems and
Nazarenes. That fellow hath besotted himself with liquor, and hath not
found his way home to his barracks in good time. He will be severely
punished, unless we consent to admit him; and to prevail on us to do
so, he must empty the contents of his girdle."
"That, at least--that, at least," answered the soldiers of the city
watch, but carefully suppressing their voices, though they spoke in an
eager tone. "And is that all that you would make of such an
opportunity?" said Harpax, scornfully. "No, no, comrades. If this
outlandish animal indeed escape us, he must at least leave his fleece
behind. See you not the gleams from his headpiece and his cuirass? I
presume these betoken substantial silver, though it may be of the
thinnest. There lies the silver mine I spoke of, ready to enrich the
dexterous hands who shall labour it."
"But," said timidly a young Greek, a companion of their watch lately
enlisted in the corps, and unacquainted with their habits, "still this
barbarian, as you call him, is a soldier of the Emperor; and if we are
convicted of depriving him of his arms, we shall be justly punished for
a military crime."
"Hear to a new Lycurgus come to teach us our duty!" said the centurion.
"Learn first, young man, that the metropolitan cohort never can commit
a crime; and next, of course, that they can never be convicted of one.
Suppose we found a straggling barbarian, a Varangian, like this
slumberer, perhaps a Frank, or some other of these foreigners bearing
unpronounceable names, while they dishonour us by putting on the arms
and apparel of the real Roman soldier, are we, placed to defend an
important post, to admit a man so suspicious within our postern, when
the event may probably be to betray both the Golden Gate and the hearts
of gold who guard it,--to have the one seized, and the throats of the
others handsomely cut?"
"Keep him without side of the gate, then," replied the novice, "if you
think him so dangerous. For my part, I should not fear him, were he
deprived of that huge double-edged axe, which gleams from under his
cloak, having a more deadly glare than the comet which astrologers
prophesy such strange things of."
"Nay, then, we agree together," answered Harpax, "and you speak like a
youth of modesty and sense; and I promise you the state will lose
nothing in the despoiling of this same barbarian. Each of these savages
hath a double set of accoutrements, the one wrought with gold, silver,
inlaid work, and ivory, as becomes their duties in the prince's
household; the other fashioned of triple steel, strong, weighty, and
irresistible. Now, in taking from this suspicious character his silver
helmet and cuirass, you reduce him to his proper weapons, and you will
see him start up in arms fit for duty."
"Yes," said the novice; "but I do not see that this reasoning will do
more than warrant our stripping the Varangian of his armour, to be
afterwards heedfully returned to him on the morrow, if he prove a true
man. How, I know not, but I had adopted some idea that it was to be
confiscated for our joint behoof."
"Unquestionably," said Harpax; "for such has been the rule of our watch
ever since the days of the excellent centurion Sisyphus, in whose time
it first was determined, that all contraband commodities or suspicious
weapons, or the like, which were brought into the city during the
nightwatch, should be uniformly forfeited to the use of the soldiery of
the guard; and where the Emperor finds the goods or arms unjustly
seized, I hope he is rich enough to make it up to the sufferer."
"But still--but still," said Sebastes of Mitylene, the young Greek
aforesaid, "were the Emperor to discover"--
"Ass!" replied Harpax, "he cannot discover, if he had all the eyes of
Argus's tail.--Here are twelve of us sworn according to the rules of
the watch, to abide in the same story. Here is a barbarian, who, if he
remembers any thing of the matter--which I greatly doubt--his choice of
a lodging arguing his familiarity with the wine-pot--tells but a wild
tale of losing his armour, which we, my masters," (looking round to his
companions,) "deny stoutly--I hope we have courage enough for that--and
which party will be believed? The companions of the watch, surely!"
"Quite the contrary," said Sebastes. "I was born at a distance from
hence; yet even in the island of Mitylene, the rumour had reached me
that the cavaliers of the city-guard of Constantinople were so
accomplished in falsehood, that the oath of a single barbarian would
outweigh the Christian oath of the whole body, if Christians some of
them are--for example, this dark man with a single tuft on his head."
"And if it were even so," said the centurion, with a gloomy and
sinister look, "there is another way of making the transaction a safe
one."
Sebastes, fixing his eye on his commander, moved his hand to the hilt
of an Eastern poniard which he wore, as if to penetrate his exact
meaning. The centurion nodded in acquiescence.
"Young as I am," said Sebastes, "I have been already a pirate five
years at sea, and a robber three years now in the hills, and it is the
first time I have seen or heard a man hesitate, in such a case, to take
the only part which is worth a brave man's while to resort to in a
pressing affair."
Harpax struck his hand into that of the soldier, as sharing his
uncompromising sentiments; but when he spoke, it was in a tremulous
voice.
"How shall we deal with him?" said he to Sebastes, who, from the most
raw recruit in the corps, had now risen to the highest place in his
estimation.
"Any how," returned the islander; "I see bows here and shafts, and if
no other person can use them"--
"They are not," said the centurion, "the regular arms of our corps."
"The fitter you to guard the gates of a city," said the young soldier,
with a horse-laugh, which had something insulting in it. "Well--be it
so. I can shoot like a Scythian," he proceeded; "nod but with your
head, one shaft shall crash among the splinters of his skull and his
brains; the second shall quiver in his heart."
"Bravo, my noble comrade!" said Harpax, in a tone of affected rapture,
always lowering his voice, however, as respecting the slumbers of the
Varangian. "Such were the robbers of ancient days, the Diomedes,
Corvnetes, Synnes, Scyrons, Procrustes, whom it required demigods to
bring to what was miscalled justice, and whose compeers and fellows
will remain masters of the continent and isles of Greece, until
Hercules and Theseus shall again appear upon earth. Nevertheless, shoot
not, my valiant Sebastes--draw not the bow, my invaluable Mitylenian;
you may wound and not kill." "I am little wont to do so," said
Sebastes, again repeating the hoarse, chuckling, discordant laugh,
which grated upon the ears of the centurion, though he could hardly
tell the reason why it was so uncommonly unpleasant. "If I look not
about me," was his internal reflection, "we shall have two centurions
of the watch, instead of one. This Mitylenian, or be he who the devil
will, is a bow's length beyond me. I must keep my eye on him." He then
spoke aloud, in a tone of authority. "But, come, young man, it is hard
to discourage a young beginner. If you have been such a rover of wood
and river as you tell us of, you know how to play the Sicarius: there
lies your object, drunk or asleep, we know not which;--you will deal
with him in either case."
"Will you give me no odds to stab a stupefied or drunken man, most
noble centurion?" answered the Greek. "You would perhaps love the
commission yourself?" he continued, somewhat ironically.
"Do as you are directed, friend," said Harpax, pointing to the turret
staircase which led down from the battlement to the arched entrance
underneath the porch.
"He has the true cat-like stealthy pace," half muttered the centurion,
as his sentinel descended to do such a crime as he was posted there to
prevent. "This cockerel's comb must be cut, or he will become king of
the roost. But let us see if his hand be as resolute as his tongue;
then we will consider what turn to give to the conclusion."
As Harpax spoke between his teeth, and rather to himself than any of
his companions, the Mitylenian emerged from under the archway, treading
on tiptoe, yet swiftly, with an admirable mixture of silence and
celerity. His poniard, drawn as he descended, gleamed in his hand,
which was held a little behind the rest of his person, so as to conceal
it. The assassin hovered less than an instant over the sleeper, as if
to mark the interval between the ill-fated silver corslet, and the body
which it was designed to protect, when, at the instant the blow was
rushing to its descent, the Varangian started up at once, arrested the
armed hand of the assassin, by striking it upwards with the head of his
battle-axe; and while he thus parried the intended stab, struck the
Greek a blow heavier than Sebastes had ever learned at the Pancration,
which left him scarce the power to cry help to his comrades on the
battlements. They saw what had happened, however, and beheld the
barbarian set his foot on their companion, and brandish high his
formidable weapon, the whistling sound of which made the old arch ring
ominously, while he paused an instant, with his weapon upheaved, ere he
gave the finishing blow to his enemy. The warders made a bustle, as if
some of them would descend to the assistance of Sebastes, without,
however, appearing very eager to do so, when Harpax, in a rapid
whisper, commanded them to stand fast.
"Each man to his place," he said, "happen what may. Yonder comes a
captain of the guard--the secret is our own, if the savage has killed
the Mitylenian, as I well trust, for he stirs neither hand nor foot.
But if he lives, my comrades, make hard your faces as flints--he is but
one man, we are twelve. We know nothing of his purpose, save that he
went to see wherefore the barbarian slept so near the post."
While the centurion thus bruited his purpose in busy insinuation to the
companions of his watch, the stately figure of a tall soldier, richly
armed, and presenting a lofty crest, which glistened as he stept from
the open moonlight into the shade of the vault, became visible beneath.
A whisper passed among the warders on the top of the gate.
"Draw bolt, shut gate, come of the Mitylenian what will," said the
centurion; "we are lost men if we own him.--Here comes the chief of the
Varangian axes, the Follower himself."
"Well, Hereward," said the officer who came last upon the scene, in a
sort of _lingua Franca_, generally used by the barbarians of the guard,
"hast thou caught a night-hawk?"
"Ay, by Saint George!" answered the soldier; "and yet, in my country,
we would call him but a kite."
"What is he?" said the leader.
"He will tell you that himself," replied the Varangian, "when I take my
grasp from his windpipe."
"Let him go, then," said the officer.
The Englishman did as he was commanded; but, escaping as soon as he
felt himself at liberty, with an alertness which could scarce have been
anticipated, the Mitylenian rushed out at the arch, and, availing
himself of the complicated ornaments which had originally graced the
exterior of the gateway, he fled around buttress and projection,
closely pursued by the Varangian, who, encumbered with his armour, was
hardly a match in the course for the light-footed Grecian, as he dodged
his pursuer from one skulking place to another. The officer laughed
heartily, as the two figures, like shadows appearing and disappearing
as suddenly, held rapid flight and chase around the arch of Theodosius.
"By Hercules! it is Hector pursued round the walls of Ilion by
Achilles," said the officer; "but my Pelides will scarce overtake the
son of Priam. What, ho! goddess-born--son of the white-footed
Thetis!--But the allusion is lost on the poor savage--Hollo, Hereward!
I say, stop--know thine own most barbarous name." These last words were
muttered; then raising his voice, "Do not out-run thy wind, good
Hereward. Thou mayst have more occasion for breath to-night."
"If it had been my leader's will," answered the Varangian, coming back
in sulky mood, and breathing like one who had been at the top of his
speed, "I would have had him as fast as ever grey-hound held hare, ere
I left off the chase. Were it not for this foolish armour, which
encumbers without defending one, I would not have made two bounds
without taking him by the throat."
"As well as it is," said the officer, who was, in fact, the
Acoulonthos, or _Follower_, so called because it was the duty of this
highly-trusted officer of the Varangian Guards constantly to attend on
the person of the Emperor. "But let us now see by what means we are to
regain our entrance through the gate; for if, as I suspect, it was one
of those warders who was willing to have played thee a trick, his
companions may not let us enter willingly." "And is it not," said the
Varangian, "your Valour's duty to probe this want of discipline to the
bottom?"
"Hush thee here, my simple-minded savage! I have often told you, most
ignorant Hereward, that the skulls of those who come from your cold and
muddy Boentia of the North, are fitter to bear out twenty blows with a
sledge-hammer, than turn off one witty or ingenious idea. But follow
me, Hereward, and although I am aware that showing the fine meshes of
Grecian policy to the coarse eye of an unpractised barbarian like thee,
is much like casting pearls before swine, a thing forbidden in the
Blessed Gospel, yet, as thou hast so good a heart, and so trusty, as is
scarce to be met with among my Varangians themselves, I care not if,
while thou art in attendance on my person, I endeavour to indoctrinate
thee in some of that policy by which I myself--the Follower--the chief
of the Varangians, and therefore erected by their axes into the most
valiant of the valiant, am content to guide myself, although every way
qualified to bear me through the cross currents of the court by main
pull of oar and press of sail--a condescension in me, to do that by
policy, which no man in this imperial court, the chosen sphere of
superior wits, could so well accomplish by open force as myself. What
think'st thou, good savage?"
"I know," answered the Varangian, who walked about a step and a half
behind his leader, like an orderly of the present day behind his
officer's shoulder, "I should be sorry to trouble my head with what I
could do by my hands at once."
"Did I not say so?" replied the Follower, who had now for some minutes
led the way from the Golden Gate, and was seen gliding along the
outside of the moonlight walls, as if seeking an entrance elsewhere.
"Lo, such is the stuff of what you call your head is made! Your hands
and arms are perfect Ahitophels, compared to it. Hearken to me, thou
most ignorant of all animals,--but, for that very reason, thou stoutest
of confidants, and bravest of soldiers,--I will tell thee the very
riddle of this night-work, and yet, even then I doubt if thou canst
understand me."
"It is my present duty to try to comprehend your Valour," said the
Varangian--"I would say your policy, since you condescend to expound it
to me. As for your valour," he added, "I should be unlucky if I did not
think I understand its length and breadth already."
The Greek General coloured a little, but replied, with unaltered voice,
"True, good Hereward. We have seen each other in battle."
Hereward here could not suppress a short cough, which to those
grammarians of the day who were skilful in applying the use of accents,
would have implied no peculiar eulogium on his officer's military
bravery. Indeed, during their whole intercourse, the conversation of
the General, in spite of his tone of affected importance and
superiority, displayed an obvious respect for his companion, as one
who, in many points of action, might, if brought to the test, prove a
more effective soldier than himself. On the other hand, when the
powerful Northern warrior replied, although it was with all observance
of discipline and duty, yet the discussion might sometimes resemble
that between an ignorant macaroni officer, before the Duke of York's
reformation of the British army, and a steady sergeant of the regiment
in which they both served. There was a consciousness of superiority,
disguised by external respect, and half admitted by the leader.
"You will grant me, my simple friend," continued the chief, in the same
tone as before, "in order to lead thee by a short passage into the
deepest principle of policy which pervades this same court of
Constantinople, that the favour of the Emperor"--(here the officer
raised his casque, and the soldier made a semblance of doing so
also)--"who (be the place where he puts his foot sacred!) is the
vivifying principle of the sphere in which we live, as the sun itself
is that of humanity"----
"I have heard something like this said by our tribunes," said the
Varangian.
"It is their duty so to instruct you," answered the leader; "and I
trust that the priests also, in their sphere, forget not to teach my
Varangians their constant service to their Emperor."
"They do not omit it," replied the soldier, "though we of the exiles
know our duty."
"God forbid I should doubt it," said the commander of the battle-axes.
"All I mean is to make thee understand, my dear Hereward, that as there
are, though perhaps such do not exist in thy dark and gloomy climate, a
race of insects which are born in the first rays of the morning, and
expire with those of sunset, (thence called by us ephemeras, as
enduring one day only,) such is the case of a favourite at court, while
enjoying the smiles of the most sacred Emperor. And happy is he whose
favour, rising as the person of the sovereign emerges from the level
space which extends around the throne, displays itself in the first
imperial blaze of glory, and who, keeping his post during the meridian
splendour of the crown, has only the fate to disappear and die with the
last beam of imperial brightness."
"Your Valour," said the islander, "speaks higher language than my
Northern wits are able to comprehend. Only, methinks, rather than part
with life at the sunset, I would, since insect I must needs be, become
a moth for two or three dark hours."
"Such is the sordid desire of the vulgar, Hereward," answered the
Follower, with assumed superiority, "who are contented to enjoy life,
lacking distinction; whereas we, on the other hand, we of choicer
quality, who form the nearest and innermost circle around the Imperial
Alexius, in which he himself forms the central point, are watchful, to
woman's jealousy, of the distribution of his favours, and omit no
opportunity, whether by leaguing with or against each other, to
recommend ourselves individually to the peliar light of his
countenance."
"I think I comprehend what you mean," said the guardsman; "although as
for living such a life of intrigue--but that matters not."
"It does indeed matter not, my good Hereward," said his officer, "and
thou art lucky in having no appetite for the life I have described. Yet
have I seen barbarians rise high in the empire, and if they have not
altogether the flexibility, the malleability, as it is called--that
happy ductility which can give way to circumstances, I have yet known
those of barbaric tribes, especially if bred up at court from their
youth, who joined to a limited portion of this flexile quality enough
of a certain tough durability of temper, which, if it does not excel in
availing itself of opportunity, has no contemptible talent at creating
it. But letting comparisons pass, it follows, from this emulation of
glory, that is, of royal favour, amongst the servants of the imperial
and most sacred court, that each is desirous of distinguishing himself
by showing to the Emperor, not only that he fully understands the
duties of his own employments, but that he is capable, in case of
necessity, of discharging those of others."
"I understand," said the Saxon; "and thence it happens that the under
ministers, soldiers, and assistants of the great crown-officers, are
perpetually engaged, not in aiding each other, but in acting as spies
on their neighbours' actions?"
"Even so," answered the commander; "it is but few days since I had a
disagreeable instance of it. Every one, however dull in the intellect,
hath understood thus much, that the great Protospathaire, [Footnote:
Literally, the First Swordsman.] which title thou knowest signifies the
General-in-chief of the forces of the empire, hath me at hatred,
because I am the leader of those redoubtable Varangians, who enjoy and
well deserve, privileges exempting them from the absolute command which
he possesses over all other corps of the army--an authority which
becomes Nicanor, notwithstanding the victorious sound of his name,
nearly as well as a war-saddle would become a bullock."
"How!" said the Varangian, "does the Protospathaire pretend to any
authority over the noble exiles?--By the red dragon, under which we
will live and die, we will obey no man alive but Alexius Comnenus
himself, and our own officers!"
"Rightly and bravely resolved," said the leader; "but, my good
Hereward, let not your just indignation hurry you so far as to name the
most sacred Emperor, without raising your hand to your casque, and
adding the epithets of his lofty rank."
"I will raise my hand often enough and high enough," said the Norseman,
"when the Emperor's service requires it."
"I dare be sworn thou wilt," said Achilles Tatius, the commander of the
Varangian Imperial Body Guard, who thought the time was unfavourable
for distinguishing himself by insisting on that exact observance of
etiquette, which was one of his great pretensions to the name of a
soldier. "Yet were it not for the constant vigilance of your leader, my
child, the noble Varangians would be trode down, in the common mass of
the army, with the heathen cohorts of Huns, Scythians, or those
turban'd infidels the renegade Turks; and even for this is your
commander here in peril, because he vindicates his axe-men as worthy of
being prized above the paltry shafts of the Eastern tribes and the
javelins of the Moors, which are only fit to be playthings for
children."
"You are exposed to no danger," said the soldier, closing up to
Achilles in a confidential manner, "from which these axes can protect
you."
"Do I not know it?" said Achilles. "But it is to your arms alone that
the Follower of his most sacred Majesty now intrusts his safety."
"In aught that a soldier may do," answered Hereward; "make your own
computation, and then reckon this single arm worth two against any man
the Emperor has, not being of our own corps."
"Listen, my brave friend," continued Achilles. "This Nicanor was daring
enough to throw a reproach on our noble corps, accusing them--gods and
goddesses!--of plundering in the field, and, yet more sacrilegious, of
drinking the precious wine which was prepared for his most sacred
Majesty's own blessed consumption. I, the sacred person of the Emperor
being present, proceeded, as thou may'st well believe"--
"To give him the lie in his audacious throat!" burst in the
Varangian--"named a place of meeting somewhere in the vicinity, and
called the attendance of your poor follower, Hereward of Hampton, who
is your bond-slave for life long, for such an honour! I wish only you
had told me to get my work-day arms; but, however, I have my
battle-axe, and"--Here his companion seized a moment to break in, for
he was somewhat abashed at the lively tone of the young soldier.
"Hush thee, my son," said Achilles Tatius; "speak low, my excellent
Hereward. Thou mistakest this thing. With thee by my side, I would not,
indeed, hesitate to meet five such as Nicanor; but such is not the law
of this most hallowed empire, nor the sentiments of the three times
illustrious Prince who now rules it. Thou art debauched, my soldier,
with the swaggering stories of the Franks, of whom we hear more and
more every day."
"I would not willingly borrow any thing from those whom you call
Franks, and we Normans," answered the Varangian, in a disappointed,
dogged tone.
"Why, listen, then," said the officer as they proceeded on their walk,
"listen to the reason of the thing, and consider whether such a custom
can obtain, as that which they term the duello, in any country of
civilization and common sense, to say nothing of one which is blessed
with the domination of the most rare Alexius Comnenus. Two great lords,
or high officers, quarrel in the court, and before the reverend person
of the Emperor. They dispute about a point of fact. Now, instead of
each maintaining his own opinion by argument or evidence, suppose they
had adopted the custom of these barbarous Franks,--'Why, thou liest in
thy throat,' says the one; 'and thou liest in thy very lungs,' says
another; and they measure forth the lists of battle in the next meadow.
Each swears to the truth of his quarrel, though probably neither well
knows precisely how the fact stands. One, perhaps the hardier, truer,
and better man of the two, the Follower of the Emperor, and father of
the Varangians, (for death, my faithful follower, spares no man,) lies
dead on the ground, and the other comes back to predominate in the
court, where, had the matter been enquired into by the rules of common
sense and reason, the victor, as he is termed, would have been sent to
the gallows. And yet this is the law of arms, as your fancy pleases to
call it, friend Hereward!"
"May it please your Valour," answered the barbarian, "there is a show
of sense in what you say; but you will sooner convince me that this
blessed moonlight is the blackness of a wolf's mouth, than that I ought
to hear myself called liar, without cramming the epithet down the
speaker's throat with the spike of my battle-axe. The lie is to a man
the same as a blow, and a blow degrades him into a slave and a beast of
burden, if endured without retaliation."
"Ay, there it is!" said Achilles; "could I but get you to lay aside
that inborn barbarism, which leads you, otherwise the most disciplined
soldiers who serve the sacred Emperor, into such deadly quarrels and
feuds"--
"Sir Captain," said the Varangian, in a sullen tone, "take my advice,
and take the Varangians as you have them; for, believe my word, that if
you could teach them to endure reproaches, bear the lie, or tolerate
stripes, you would hardly find them, when their discipline is
completed, worth the single day's salt which they cost to his holiness,
if that be his title. I must tell you, moreover, valorous sir, that the
Varangians will little thank their leader, who heard them called
marauders, drunkards, and what not, and repelled not the charge on the
spot."
"Now, if I knew not the humours of my barbarians," thought Tatius, in
his own mind, "I should bring on myself a quarrel with these untamed
islanders, who the Emperor thinks can be so easily kept in discipline.
But I will settle this sport presently." Accordingly, he addressed the
Saxon in a soothing tone.
"My faithful soldier," he proceeded aloud, "we Romans, according to the
custom of our ancestors, set as much glory on actually telling the
truth, as you do in resenting the imputation of falsehood; and I could
not with honour return a charge of falsehood upon Nicanor, since what
he said was substantially true."
"What! that we Varangians were plunderers, drunkards, and the like?"
said Hereward, more impatient than before.
"No, surely, not in that broad sense," said Achilles; "but there was
too much foundation for the legend."
"When and where?" asked the Anglo-Saxon.
"You remember," replied his leader, "the long march near Laodicea,
where the Varangians beat off a cloud of Turks, and retook a train of
the imperial baggage? You know what was done that day--how you quenched
your thirst, I mean?"
"I have some reason to remember it," said Hereward of Hampton; "for we
were half choked with dust, fatigue, and, which was worst of all,
constantly fighting with our faces to the rear, when we found some
firkins of wine in certain carriages which were broken down--down our
throats it went, as if it had been the best ale in Southampton."
"Ah, unhappy!" said the Follower; "saw you not that the firkins were
stamped with the thrice excellent Grand Butler's own inviolable seal,
and set apart for the private use of his Imperial Majesty's most sacred
lips?"
"By good Saint George of merry England, worth a dozen of your Saint
George of Cappadocia, I neither thought nor cared about the matter,"
answered Hereward. "And I know your Valour drank a mighty draught
yourself out of my head-piece; not this silver bauble, but my
steel-cap, which is twice as ample. By the same token, that whereas
before you were giving orders to fall back, you were a changed man when
you had cleared your throat of the dust, and cried, 'Bide the other
brunt, my brave and stout boys of Britain!'"
"Ay," said Achilles, "I know I am but too apt to be venturous in
action. But you mistake, good Hereward; the wine I tasted in the
extremity of martial fatigue, was not that set apart for his sacred
Majesty's own peculiar mouth, but a secondary sort, preserved for the
Grand Butler himself, of which, as one of the great officers of the
household, I might right lawfully partake--the chance was nevertheless
sinfully unhappy."
"On my life," replied Hereward, "I cannot see the infelicity of
drinking when we are dying of thirst."
"But cheer up, my noble comrade," said Achilles, after he had hurried
over his own exculpation, and without noticing the Varangian's light
estimation of the crime, "his Imperial Majesty, in his ineffable
graciousness, imputes these ill-advised draughts as a crime to no one
who partook of them. He rebuked the Protospathaire for fishing up this
accusation, and said, when he had recalled the bustle and confusion of
that toilsome day, 'I thought myself well off amid that seven times
heated furnace, when we obtained a draught of the barley-wine drank by
my poor Varangians; and I drank their health, as well I might, since,
had it not been for their services, I had drunk my last; and well fare
their hearts, though they quaffed my wine in return!' And with that he
turned off, as one who said, 'I have too much of this, being a finding
of matter and ripping up of stories against Achilles Tatius and his
gallant Varangians.'"
"Now, may God bless his honest heart for it!" said Hereward, with more
downright heartiness than formal respect. "I'll drink to his health in
what I put next to my lips that quenches thirst, whether it may be ale,
wine, or ditch-water."
"Why, well said, but speak not above thy breath! and remember to put
thy hand to thy forehead, when naming, or even thinking of the
Emperor!--Well, thou knowest, Hereward, that having thus obtained the
advantage, I knew that the moment of a repulsed attack is always that
of a successful charge; and so I brought against the Protospathaire,
Nicanor, the robberies which have been committed at the Golden Gate,
and other entrances of the city, where a merchant was but of late
kidnapped and murdered, having on him certain jewels, the property of
the Patriarch."
"Ay! indeed?" said the Varangian; "and what said Alex--I mean the most
sacred Emperor, when he heard such things said of the city
warders?--though he had himself given, as we say in our land, the fox
the geese to keep."
"It may be he did," replied Achilles; "but he is a sovereign of deep
policy, and was resolved not to proceed against these treacherous
warders, or their general, the Protospathaire, without decisive proof.
His Sacred Majesty, therefore, charged me to obtain specific
circumstantial proof by thy means."
"And that I would have managed in two minutes, had you not called me
off the chase of yon cut-throat vagabond. But his grace knows the word
of a Varangian, and I can assure him that either lucre of my silver
gaberdine, which they nickname a cuirass, or the hatred of my corps,
would be sufficient to incite any of these knaves to cut the throat of
a Varangian, who appeared to be asleep.--So we go, I suppose, captain,
to bear evidence before the Emperor to this night's work?"
"No, my active soldier, hadst thou taken the runaway villain, my first
act must have been to set him free again; and my present charge to you
is, to forget that such an adventure has ever taken place."
"Ha!" said the Varangian; "this is a change of policy indeed!"
"Why, yes, brave Hereward; ere I left the palace this night, the
Patriarch made overtures of reconciliation betwixt me and the
Protospathaire, which, as our agreement is of much consequence to the
state, I could not very well reject, either as a good soldier or a good
Christian. All offences to my honour are to be in the fullest degree
repaid, for which the Patriarch interposes his warrant. The Emperor,
who will rather wink hard than see disagreements, loves better the
matter should be slurred over thus."
"And the reproaches upon the Varangians." said Hereward----
"Shall be fully retracted and atoned for," answered Achilles; "and a
weighty donative in gold dealt among the corps of the Anglo-Danish
axemen. Thou, my Hereward, mayst be distributor; and thus, if
well-managed, mayst plate thy battle-axe with gold."
"I love my axe better as it is," said the Varangian. "My father bore it
against the robber Normans at Hastings. Steel instead of gold for my
money."
"Thou mayst make thy choice, Hereward," answered his officer; "only, if
thou art poor, say the fault was thine own."
But here, in the course of their circuit round Constantinople, the
officer and his soldier came to a very small wicket or sallyport,
opening on the interior of a large and massive advanced work, which
terminated an entrance to the city itself. Here the officer halted, and
made his obedience, as a devotee who is about to enter a chapel of
peculiar sanctity.