CHAPTER I

Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations

in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other

spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

The Errata and Additional Corrections have been incorporated, apart from

those indicated by {} which could not be unambiguously identified.

Italics are represented thus _italic_, bold thus =bold= and

superscripts thus y^{en}.

THE AGE OF JUSTINIAN AND

THEODORA

LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS

PORTUGAL ST. LINCOLN’S INN, W.C.

CAMBRIDGE: DEIGHTON, BELL & CO.

NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.

BOMBAY: A. H. WHEELER & CO.

THE AGE OF JUSTINIAN

AND THEODORA

A HISTORY OF THE SIXTH CENTURY A.D.

BY

WILLIAM GORDON HOLMES

VOL. I

_SECOND EDITION_

LONDON

G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.

1912

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.

PREFACE

Although the age of Justinian is the most interesting and important in

the whole series of the Byzantine annals, no comprehensive work has

hitherto been devoted to the subject. The valuable and erudite “Vita

Justiniani” of Ludewig is more of a law book than of a biography, and

less of a circumstantial history than of either. The somewhat strange

medley published by Isambert under the title “Vie de Justinien” is

scarcely a complete chronology of the events, and might be called a

manual of the sources rather than a history of the times.[1] Excellent

accounts, however, of Justinian are to be found in some general

histories of the Byzantine Empire as well as in several biographical

dictionaries, whilst monographs of greater or lesser extent exist

under the names of Perrinus, Invernizi, and Padovani, etc., but any

student of the period would decide that it deserves to be treated at

much greater length than has been devoted to it in any of these books.

In the present work the design has been to place before the reader

not only a record of events, but a presentment of the people amongst

whom, and of the stage upon which those events occurred. I have also

attempted to correlate the aspects of the ancient and the modern world

in relation to science and progress.

W. G. H.

LONDON,

_February, 1905_.

PREFATORY NOTE TO SECOND EDITION

This work has now been carefully revised and slightly enlarged. I am

indebted to suggestions from various reviewers of the first edition for

several of the improvements introduced. Occasionally, however, they are

in error and at variance among themselves on some of the points noted.

A few of my critics have accused me of being too discursive, especially

in my notes, an impression which is the natural result of my not having

expressed it definitely anywhere that my object was to present not

merely the sociology and events of a particular period, but also to

illustrate, in an abridged sense, the history of all time.

W. G. H.

LONDON,

_August, 1912_.

CONTENTS

PAGE

PROEM ix

CHAP. I. CONSTANTINOPLE IN THE SIXTH CENTURY 1

I. History 2

II. Topography 23

III. Sociology 83

II. THE ROMAN EMPIRE UNDER ANASTASIUS:

THE INHERITANCE OF JUSTINIAN 127

I. Political 134

II. Educational 204

III. Religious 233

III. BIRTH AND FORTUNES OF THE ELDER

JUSTIN: THE ORIGINS OF JUSTINIAN 295

IV. PRE-IMPERIAL CAREER OF THEODORA:

THE CONSORT OF JUSTINIAN 321

INDEX 351

CORRECTIONS 360

ADDITIONS 361

MAPS

DIAGRAM OF CONSTANTINOPLE IN SIXTH CENTURY 80

ROMAN EMPIRE AND VICINITY, _c._ 500 A.D. 144

PROEM

The birth and death of worlds are ephemeral events in a cycle of

astronomical time. In the life history of a stellar system, of a

planet, of an animal, parallel periods of origin, exuberance, and of

extinction are exhibited to our experience, or to our understanding.

Man, in his material existence confined to a point, by continuity of

effort and perpetuity of thought, becomes coequal and coextensive

with the infinities of time and space. The intellectual store of ages

has evolved the supremacy of the human race, but the zenith of its

ascendancy may still be far off, and the aspiration after progress

has been entailed on the heirs of all preceding generations. The

advancement of humanity is the sum of the progress of its component

members, and the individual who raises his own life to the highest

attainable eminence becomes a factor in the elevation of the whole

race. Familiarity with history dispels the darkness of the past,

which is so prolific in the myths that feed credulity and foster

superstition, the frequent parents of the most stubborn obstacles which

have lain in the path of progress. The history of the past comprises

the lessons of the future; and the successes and failures of former

times are a pre-vision of the struggles to come and the errors to be

avoided. The stream of human life having once issued from its sources,

may be equal in endurance to a planet, to a stellar system, or even to

the universe itself. The mind of the universe may be man, who may be

the confluence of universal intelligence. The eternity of the past, the

infinity of the present, may be peopled with races like our own, but

whether they die out with the worlds they occupy, or enjoy a perpetual

existence, transcends the present limits of our knowledge. From century

to century the solid ground of science gains on the illimitable ocean

of the unknown, but we are ignorant as to whether we exist in the dawn

or in the noonday of enlightenment. The conceptions of one age become

the achievements of the next; and the philosopher may question whether

this world be not some remote, unaffiliated tract, which remains to be

annexed to the empire of universal civilization. The discoveries of the

future may be as undreamt of as those of the past,[2] and the ultimate

destiny of our race is hidden from existing generations.

In the period I have chosen to bring before the reader, civilization

was on the decline, and progress imperceptible, but the germs of a

riper growth were still existent, concealed within the spreading

darkness of mediaevalism. When Grecian science and philosophy seemed to

stand on the threshold of modern enlightenment the pall of despotism

and superstition descended on the earth and stifled every impulse of

progress for more than fifteen centuries. The Yggdrasil of Christian

superstition spread its roots throughout the Roman Empire, strangling

alike the nascent ethics of Christendom, and the germinating science

of the ancient world. Had the leading minds of that epoch, instead

of expending their zeal and acumen on theological inanities, applied

themselves to the study of nature, they might have forestalled the

march of the centuries, and advanced us a thousand years beyond the

present time. But the atmosphere of the period was charged with a

metaphysical mysticism whereby all philosophic thought and material

research were arrested. The records of a millennium comprise little

more than the rise, the progress, and the triumph of superstition

and barbarism. The degenerate Greeks became the serfs and slaves

of the land in which they were formerly the masters, and retreated

gradually to a vanishing point in the vast district from the Adriatic

to the Indus, over which the eagle-wing of Alexander had swept in

uninterrupted conquest. Unable to oppose their political solidarity

and martial science to the fanaticism of the half-armed Saracens,

they yielded up to them insensibly their faith and their empire, and

their place was filled by a host of unprogressive Mohammedans, who

brought with them a newer religion more sensuous in its conceptions,

but less gross in its practice, than the Christianity of that day.

But the hardy barbarians of the North, drinking at the fountain of

knowledge, had achieved some political organization, and became the

natural and irresistible barriers against which the waves of Moslem

enthusiasm dashed themselves in vain. The term of Asiatic encroachment

was fixed at the Pyrenees in the west, and at the Danube in the

east by the valorous Franks and Hungarians; and on the brink of the

turning tide stand the heroic figures of Charles Martel and Matthias

Corvinus. Civilization has now included almost the whole globe in

its comprehensive embrace; both the old world and the new have been

overrun by the intellectual heirs of the Greeks; in every land the

extinction of retrograde races proceeds with measured certainty, and we

appear to be safer from a returning flood of barbarism than from some

astronomical catastrophe. The mediaeval order of things is reversed,

the ravages of Attila reappear under a new aspect, and the descendants

of the Han and the Hun alike are raised by the hand, or crushed under

the foot of aggressive civilization.

In the infancy of human reason intelligence outstrips knowledge,

and the mature, but vacant, mind soon loses itself in the dark and

trackless wilderness of natural phenomena. An imaginative system of

cosmogony, baseless as the fabric of a dream, is the creation of a

moment; to dissipate it the work of ages in study and investigation.

Less than a century ago philosophic scepticism could only vent itself

in a sneer at the credibility of a tradition, or the fidelity of a

manuscript; and the folklore of peasants, encrusted with the hoar

of antiquity, was accepted by erudite mystics as the solution of

cosmogony and the proof of our communion with the supernatural. An

illegible line, a misinterpreted phrase, a suspected interpolation, in

some decaying document, the proof or the refutation, was often hailed

triumphantly by ardent disputants as announcing the establishment

or the overthrow of revelation. But the most signal achievements

of historic research or criticism were powerless to elucidate

the mysteries of the universe; and the inquirer had to fall back

perpetually on the current mythology for the interpretation of his

objective environment. In the hands of science alone were the keys

which could unlock the book of nature, and open the gates of knowledge

as to the enigmas of visible life. A flood of light has been thrown

on the order of natural phenomena, our vision has been prolonged from

the dawn of history to the dawn of terrestrial life, an intelligible

hypothesis of existence has been deduced from observation and

experiment, idealism and dogma have been recognized as the offspring

of phantasy and fallacy, and the mystical elements of Christianity

have been dismissed by philosophy to that limbo of folly which long

ago engulfed the theogonies of Greece and Rome. The sapless trunk of

revelation lies rotting on the ground, but the undiscerning masses, too

credulous to inquire, too careless to think, have allowed it to become

invested with the weeds of superstition and ignorance; and the progeny

of hierophants, who once sheltered beneath the green and flourishing

tree, still find a cover in the rank growth. In the turn of the ages

we are confronted by new Pagans who adhere to an obsolete religion;

and the philosopher can only hope for an era when every one will have

sufficient sense and science to think according to the laws of nature

and civilization.

The history of the disintegrating and moribund Byzantine Empire has

been explored by modern scholars with untiring assiduity; and the

exposition of that debased political system will always reflect more

credit on their brilliant researches than on the chequered annals of

mankind.

ADDITIONAL CORRECTIONS

P. 127, n. 1, legends and hearsay; p. 133, n. 3, καρξιμάδες; p. 141,

n. 2, i; p. 165, regions,^1 own,^2 other^3 (to n. 1 next page); p.

166, soldiers, arms,^2 etc.; p. 169, n. 6, Marcellinus; p. 188, herd;

{_ib._, n. 1, _c._ 530}; p. 191, n. 1, XII, not xii; p. 220, judgment;

p. 225, n. 1, cadavérique; p. 232, n. 1, add, on its way to resolution

into the formless protyle or ether; p. 283, the outposts; p. 300, n.

6, add, cf. Jn. Malala, xviii, p. 490; p. 309, n. 2, add, cf. Chron.

Paschal., an. 605; {p. 316, mood}; p. 330, n. 2, Strabo, VIII, vi,

20; p. 344, near the district of Hormisdas, not Palace; _ib._, n. 2,

read, which stood on the Propontis to the east of the Theodosian Port;

see Notitia, reg. ix and Ducange _sb. Homonoea_. The suburban St. P.

is said to be indicated by ruins still existing at the foot of the

“Giant’s Grave,” on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus; see Gyllius, De

Bosp., iii, 6; Procop., etc., p. 346, n. 1, insert, Jn. Malala, xviii,

p. 430; _ib._, an. 6020; {p. 362, read, This question and the _Yeri_,

etc.}

THE AGE OF JUSTINIAN AND THEODORA

CHAPTER I

CONSTANTINOPLE IN THE SIXTH CENTURY[3]

The Byzantine peninsula has been regarded from a very early date as an

ideal situation for a capital city. Placed at the junction of two great

seas which wash the shores of three continents, and possessed of a safe

and extensive anchorage for shipping, it might become the centre of

empire and commerce for the whole Eastern hemisphere. Yet, owing to an

adverse fate, the full realization of this splendid conception remains

a problem of the future. Byzantium as an independent city was little

more than an outpost of civilization; as a provincial town of the Roman

Empire its political position allowed it no scope for development; as

the metropolis of the same Empire in its age of decadence its fitful

splendour is an unsubstantial pageant without moral or political

stability. Lastly, in the hands of the Turk its growth has been

fettered by the prejudices of a nation unable to free itself from the

bondage of an effete civilization.

I. HISTORY

The first peopling of the site of Constantinople is a question in

prehistoric research, which has not yet been elucidated by the

palaeontologist. Unlike the Roman area, no relics of an age of stone

or bronze have been discovered here;[4] do not, perhaps, exist, but

doubtless the opportunities, if not the men, have been wanting for

such investigations.[5] That the region seemed to the primitive

Greeks to be a wild and desolate one, we learn from the tradition

of the Argonautic expedition;[6] and the epithet of “Axine,”[7] or

inhospitable, applied in the earliest times to the Euxine or Black

Sea. By the beginning, however, of the seventh century before the

Christian era these seas and maritime channels had been explored, and

several colonies[8] had been planted by the adventurous Greeks who

issued from the Ionian seaport of Miletus. Later than the Milesians,

a band of Dorians from Megara penetrated into these parts and, by a

strange choice, as it was afterwards considered, selected a point at

the mouth of the Bosphorus on the Asiatic shore for a settlement, which

they called Chalcedon.[9] Seventeen years later[10] a second party

from Megara fixed themselves on the European headland, previously

known as Lygos,[11] nearly opposite their first colony. The leader

of this expedition was Byzas,[12] and from him the town they built

was named Byzantium.[13] The actual limits of the original city are

now quite unknown, but doubtless they were small at first and were

gradually extended according as the community increased in wealth and

prosperity.[14] During the classic period of Greek history the town

rose to considerable importance, as its commanding position enabled

it to impose a toll on ships sailing to and from the Euxine sea; a

power of which, however, it made a very sparing use.[15] It was also

enriched by the countless shoals of fish[16] which, when the north

winds blew, descended from the Euxine and thronged the narrow but

elongated gulf called, most probably for that reason, _Chrysoceras_

or Golden Horn.[17] Ultimately Byzantium became the largest city in

Thrace, having expanded itself over an area which measured four and a

half miles in circumference, including, probably, the suburbs.[18] It

exercised a suzerainty over Chalcedon and Perinthus,[19] and reduced

the aboriginal Bithynians to a state of servitude comparable to that

of the Spartan Helots.[20] Notwithstanding its natural advantages,

the town never won any pre-eminence among the Hellenic communities,

and nothing more unstable than its political position is presented to

us in the restless concourse of Grecian nationalities. In the wars of

Persians with Greeks, and of Greeks with Greeks, it always became the

sport of the contending parties; and during a century and a half (about

506 B.C. to 350 B.C.) it was taken and re-taken at least six times

by Medes, Spartans, Athenians, and Thebans, a change of constitution

following, of course, each change of political connection.[21] In 340

B.C., however, the Byzantines, with the aid of the Athenians, withstood

a siege successfully, an occurrence the more remarkable as they were

attacked by the greatest general of the age, Philip of Macedon. In

the course of this beleaguerment, it is related, on a certain wet and

moonless night the enemy attempted a surprise, but were foiled by

reason of a bright light which, appearing suddenly in the heavens,

startled all the dogs in the town and thus roused the garrison to a

sense of their danger.[22] To commemorate this timely phenomenon, which

was attributed to Hecate, they erected a public statue to that goddess

and, as it is supposed, assumed the crescent for their chief national

device. For several centuries after this event the city enjoyed a

nominal autonomy, but it appears to have been in perpetual conflict

with its civilized or barbarous neighbours; and in 279 B.C. it was even

laid under tribute[23] by the horde of Gauls who penetrated into Asia

and established themselves permanently in Galatia. After the appearance

of the Roman legionaries in the East the Byzantines were always the

faithful friends of the Republic, while it was engaged in suppressing

the independent potentates of Macedonia and Asia Minor. For its

services Byzantium was permitted to retain the rank of a free city,[24]

and its claim to indulgence was allowed by more than one of the Roman

emperors,[25] even after A.D. 70, when Vespasian limited its rights to

those of a provincial town.[26]

Of all the ancient historians one only has left us a description

capable of giving some visual impression as to the appearance of old

Byzantium. “This city,” says Dion Cassius,[27] “is most favourably

situated, being built upon an eminence, which juts out into the sea.

The waters, like a torrent, rushing downwards from the Pontus impinge

against the promontory and flow partly to the right, so as to form the

bay and harbours, but the main stream runs swiftly alongside the city

into the Propontis. The town is also extremely well fortified, for

the wall is faced with great square stones joined together by brazen

clamps, and it is further strengthened on the inside through mounds

and houses being built up against it. This wall seems to consist of

a solid mass of stone,[28] and it has a covered gallery above, which

is very easily defended. On the outside there are many large towers,

perforated with frequent loopholes and ranged in an irregular line, so

that an attacking party is surrounded by them and exposed on all sides

at once. Toward the land the fortifications are very lofty, but less so

on the side of the water, as the rocks on which they are founded and

the dangers of the Bosphorus render them almost unassailable. There are

two harbours within the walls,[29] guarded by chains, and at the ends

of the moles inclosing them towers facing each other make the passage

impracticable to an enemy. I have seen the walls standing and have

also heard them speaking; for there are seven vocal towers stretching

from the Thracian gates to the sea. If one shouts or drops a pebble in

the first it not only resounds itself or repeats the syllables, but

it transmits the power for the next in order to do the same; and thus

the voice or echo is carried in regular succession through the whole

series.”[30]

At the end of the second century the Byzantines were afflicted by the

severest trial which had ever come within their experience. In the

tripartite struggle between the Emperor Severus and his competitors

of Gaul and Asia, the city unfortunately threw in its lot with Niger,

the Proconsul of Syria. Niger soon fell, but Byzantium held out with

inflexible obstinacy for three years and, through the ingenuity of an

engineer named Priscus, defied all the efforts of the victor. During

this time the inhabitants suffered progressively every kind of hardship

and horror which has been put on record in connection with sieges of

the most desperate character. Stones torn from the public buildings

were used as projectiles, statues of men and horses, in brass and

marble, were hurled on the heads of the besiegers, women gave their

hair to be twisted into cords and ropes, leather soaked in water was

eaten, and finally they fell on one another and fed on human flesh. At

last the city yielded, but Severus was exasperated, and his impulse of

hostility only ceased with the destruction of the prize he had won at

such a cost in blood and treasure. The garrison and all who had borne

any public office, with the exception of Priscus, were put to death,

the chief buildings were razed,[31] the municipality was abolished,

property was confiscated, and the town was given over to the previously

subject Perinthians, to be treated as a dependent village. With immense

labour the impregnable fortifications were levelled with the ground,

and the ruins of the first bulwark of the Empire against the barbarians

of Scythia attested the wisdom and temperance of the master of the East

and West.[32]

But the memory of Byzantium dwelt in the mind of Severus and he was

attracted to revisit the spot. In cooler moments he surveyed the

wreck; the citizens, bearing olive branches in their hands, approached

him in a solemn and suppliant procession; he determined to rebuild,

and at his mandate new edifices were reared to supply the place of

those which had been ruined. He even purchased ground, which had

been previously occupied by private gardens, for the laying out of a

hippodrome,[33] a public luxury with which the town had never before

been adorned. But the hateful name of Byzantium was abolished and the

new city was called Antonina[34] by Severus, in honour of his eldest

son; a change, however, which scarcely survived the life of its author.

Through Caracalla,[35] or some rational statesman acting in the name

of that reprobate, the city regained its political privileges, but the

fortifications were not restored, and for more than half a century

it remained defenceless against the barbarians, and even against

the turbulent soldiery of the Empire. Beginning from about 250 the

Goths ravaged the vicinity of the Bosphorus and plundered most of the

towns, holding their own against Decius and several other short-lived

emperors. Under Gallienus a mutinous legion is said to have massacred

most of the inhabitants, but shortly afterwards the same emperor gave

a commission to two Byzantine engineers to fortify the district, and

henceforward Byzantium again appears as a stronghold, which was made

a centre of operations against the Goths, in the repulse of whom the

natives and their generals even played an important part.[36] In 323

Licinius, the sole remaining rival of Constantine, after his defeat in

a great battle near Adrianople, took refuge in Byzantium, and the town

again became the scene of a contest memorable in history, not for the

magnitude of the siege, but for the importance of the events which it

inaugurated. Licinius soon yielded, and a new era dawned for Byzantium,

which in a few years became lastingly known to the nations as the City

of Constantine.

The tongue of land on which Constantinople is built is essentially

a low mountainous ridge, rising on three sides by irregular slopes

from the sea. Trending almost directly eastward from the continent

of Europe, it terminates abruptly in a rounded headland opposite the

Asiatic shore, from which it is separated by the entrance of the

Bosphorus, at this point a little more than a mile in width. This

diminutive peninsula, which is bounded on the north by the inland

extension of the Bosphorus, called the Golden Horn, and on the south

by the Propontis or Sea of Marmora, has a length of between three and

four miles. At its eastern extremity it is about a mile broad and it

gradually expands until, in the region where it may be said to join

the mainland, its measurement has increased to more than four times

that distance. The unlevel nature of the ground and reminiscences of

the seven hills of classical Rome have always caused a parallel to be

drawn between the sites of the two capitals of the Empire, but the

resemblance is remote and the historic import of the Roman hills is

totally wanting in the case of those of Constantinople. The hills of

the elder city were mostly distinct mounts, which had borne suggestive

names in the earliest annals of the district. Every citizen had learned

to associate the Palatine with the Roma Quadrata of Romulus, the

Aventine with the ill-omened auspices of Remus, the Quirinal with

the rape of the Sabine women, the Esquiline with the murder of King

Servius, the Capitol with the repulse of the Gauls by Manlius; and knew

that when the standard was raised on the Janiculum the comitia were

assembled to transact the business of the Republic. But the Byzantine

hills are little more than variations in the face of the slope as

it declines on each side from the central dorsum to the water, and

have always been nameless unless in the numerical descriptions of the

topographer. On the north five depressions constitute as many valleys

and give rise to six hills, which are numbered in succession from the

narrow end of the promontory to the west. Thus the first hill is that

on which stood the acropolis of Byzantium. Two of the valleys, the

third and fifth, can be traced across the dorsum of the peninsular from

sea to sea. A rivulet, called the Lycus, running from the mainland,

joins the peninsula near its centre and then turns in a south-easterly

direction so as to fall into the Propontis. The valley through which

this stream passes, the sixth, bounds the seventh hill, an elevation

known as the Xerolophos or Dry-mount, which, lying in the south-west,

occupies more than a third of the whole area comprised within the

city walls.[37] From every high point of the promontory the eye may

range over seas and mountains often celebrated in classic story—the

Trojan Ida and Olympus, the Hellespont, Athos and Olympus of Zeus,

and the Thracian Bosphorus embraced by wooded hills up to the “blue

Symplegades” and the Euxine, so suggestive of heroic tradition to the

Greek mind. The Golden Horn itself describes a curve to the north-west

of more than six miles in length, and at its extremity, where it turns

upon itself, becomes fused with the estuary of two small rivers named

Cydarus and Barbyses.[38] Throughout the greater part of its course

it is about a quarter of a mile in width, but at one point below its

centre, it is dilated into a bay of nearly double that capacity. This

inlet was not formerly, in the same sense as it is now, the port of

Constantinople; to the ancients it was still the sea, a moat on a

large scale, which added the safety of water to the mural defences of

the city; and the small shipping of the period was accommodated in

artificial harbours formed by excavations within the walls or by moles

thrown out from the shore.[39] The climate of this locality is very

changeable, exposed as it is to north winds chilled by transit over the

Russian steppes, and to warm breezes which originate in the tropical

expanses of Africa and Arabia. The temperature may range through twenty

degrees in a single day, and winters of such arctic severity that

the Golden Horn and even the Bosphorus are seen covered with ice are

not unknown to the inhabitants.[40] Variations of landscape due to

vegetation are found chiefly in the abundance of plane, pine, chestnut,

and other trees, but more especially of the cypress. Earthquakes

are a permanent source of annoyance, and have sometimes been very

destructive. Such in brief are the geographical features of this

region, which the caprice of a prince, in a higher degree, perhaps,

than its natural endowments, appointed to contain the metropolis of the

East.

When Constantine determined to supplant the ancient capital on the

Tiber by building a new city in a place of his own choice,[41] he

does not appear to have been more acute in discerning the advantages

of Byzantium than were the first colonists from Megara. It is said

that Thessalonica first fixed his attention; it is certain that he

began to build in the Troad, near the site of Homeric Ilios; and it is

even suggested that when he shifted his ground from thence he next

commenced operations at Chalcedon.[42] By 328,[43] however, he had

come to a final decision, and Byzantium was exalted to be the actual

rival of Rome. This event, occurring at so advanced a date and under

the eye of civilization, yet became a source of legend, so as to excel

even in that respect the original foundation by Byzas. The oracles had

long been lapsing into silence,[44] but their place had been gradually

usurped by Christian visions, and every zealot who thought upon the

subject conceived of Constantine as acting under a special inspiration

from the Deity. More than a score of writers in verse and prose

have described the circumstances under which he received the divine

injunctions, and some have presented to us in detail the person and

words of the beatific visitant.[45] On the faith of an ecclesiastical

historian[46] we are asked to believe that an angelic guide even

directed the Emperor as he marked out the boundaries of his future

capital. When Constantine, on foot with a spear in his hand, seemed to

his ministers to move onwards for an inordinate distance, one of them

exclaimed: “How far, O Master?” “Until he who precedes me stands,” was

the reply by which the inspired surveyor indicated that he followed an

unseen conductor. Whether Constantine was a superstitious man is an

indeterminate question, but that he was a shrewd and politic one is

self-evident from his career, and, if we believe that he gave currency

to this and similar marvellous tales, we can perceive that he could not

have acted more judiciously with the view of gaining adherents during

the flush of early Christian enthusiasm.[47]

The area of the city was more than quadrupled by the wall of

Constantine, which extended right across the peninsula in the form of

a bow, distant at the widest part about a mile and three-quarters from

the old fortifications.[48] This space, by comparison enormous, and

which yet included only four of the hills with part of the Xerolophos,

was hastily filled by the Emperor with buildings and adornments of

every description. Many cities of the Empire, notably Rome, Athens,

Ephesus, and Antioch, were stripped of some of their most precious

objects of art for the embellishment of the new capital.[49] Wherever

statues, sculptured columns, or metal castings were to be found, there

the agents of Constantine were busily engaged in arranging for their

transfer to the Bosphorus. Resolved that no fanatic spirit should mar

the cosmopolitan expectation of his capital the princely architect

subdued his Christian zeal, and three temples[50] to mythological

divinities arose in regular conformity with pagan custom. Thus the

“Fortune of the City” took her place as the goddess Anthusa[51] in a

handsome fane, and adherents of the old religion could not declare that

the ambitious foundation was begun under unfavourable auspices. In

another temple a statue of Rhea, or Cybele, was erected in an abnormal

posture, deprived of her lions and with her hands raised as if in the

act of praying over the city. On this travesty of the mother of the

Olympians, we may conjecture, was founded the belief which prevailed

in a later age that the capital at its birth had been dedicated to

the Virgin.[52] That a city permanently distinguished by the presence

of an Imperial court should remain deficient in population is opposed

to common experience of the laws which govern the evolution of a

metropolis. But Constantine could not wait, and various artificial

methods were adopted in order to provide inhabitants for the vacant

inclosure. Patricians were induced to abandon Rome by grants of lands

and houses, and it is even said that several were persuaded to settle

at Constantinople by means of an ingenious deception. Commanding the

attendance in the East of a number of senators during the Persian war,

the Emperor privately commissioned architects to build counterparts of

their Roman dwellings on the Golden Horn. To these were transferred

the families and households of the absent ministers, who were then

invited by Constantine to meet him in his new capital. There they

were conducted to homes in which to their astonishment they seemed to

revisit Rome in a dream, and henceforth they became permanent residents

in obedience to a prince who urged his wishes with such unanswerable

arguments.[53] As to the common herd we have no precise information,

but it is asserted by credible authority that they were raked together

from diverse parts, the rabble of the Empire who derived their

maintenance from the founder and repaid him with servile adulation in

the streets and in the theatre.[54]

By the spring of 330[55] the works were sufficiently advanced for the

new capital to begin its political existence, and Constantine decreed

that a grand inaugural festival should take place on the 11th of

May. The “Fortune of the City” was consecrated by a pagan ceremony

in which Praetextatus, a priest, and Sopater, a philosopher, played

the principal parts;[56] largess was distributed to the populace, and

magnificent games were exhibited in the Hippodrome, where the Emperor

presided, conspicuous with a costly diadem decked with pearls and

precious stones, which he wore for the first time.[57] On this occasion

the celebration is said to have lasted forty days,[58] and at the

same time Constantine instituted the permanent “Encaenia,” an annual

commemoration, which he enjoined on succeeding emperors for the same

date. A gilded statue of himself, bearing a figure of Anthusa in one

hand, was to be conducted round the city in a chariot, escorted by a

military guard, dressed in a definite attire,[59] and carrying wax

tapers in their hands. Finally, the procession was to make the circuit

of the Hippodrome and, when it paused before the cathisma, the emperor

was to descend from his throne and adore the effigy.[60] We are further

told that an astrologer named Valens was employed to draw the horoscope

of the city, with the result that he predicted for it an existence of

696 years.[61]

After the fall of Licinius it appears most probable that Constantine,

as a memorial of his accession to undivided power, gave Byzantium the

name of Constantinople.[62] When, however, he transformed that town

into a metropolis, in order to express clearly the magnitude of his

views as to the future, he renamed it Second, or New Rome. At the

same time he endowed it with special privileges, known in the legal

phraseology of the period as the “right of Italy and prerogative of

Rome”;[63] and to keep these facts in the public eye he had them

inscribed on a stone pillar, which he set up in a forum, or square,

called the Strategium, adjacent to an equestrian statue of himself.[64]

To render it in all respects the image of Rome, Constantinople was

provided with a Senate,[65] a national council known only at that date

in the artificial form which owes its existence to despots. After his

choice of Byzantium for the eastern capital Constantine never dwelt

at Rome, and in all his acts seems to have aimed at extinguishing the

prestige of the old city by the grandeur of the new one, a policy which

he initiated so effectively that in the century after his death the

Roman Empire ceased to be Roman.[66]

Constantine is credited with the erection of many churches[67] in and

around Constantinople, but, with the exception of St. Irene,[68] the

Holy Cross,[69] and the Twelve Apostles,[70] their identification

rests with late and untrustworthy writers. One, St. Mocius,[71] is

said to have been built with the materials of a temple of Zeus, which

previously stood in the same place, the summit of the Xerolophos,

outside the walls. Another, St. Mena, occupied the site of the temple

of Poseidon founded by Byzas.[72] Paganism was tolerated as a religion

of the Empire until the last decade of the fourth century, when it was

finally overthrown by the preponderance of Christianity. Laws for its

total suppression were enacted by Theodosius I, destruction of temples

was legalized, and at the beginning of the fifth century it is probable

that few traces remained of the sacred edifices which had adorned old

Byzantium.[73]

After the age of Constantine the progress of New Rome as metropolis

of the east was extremely rapid,[74] the suburbs became densely

populous, and in 413 Theodosius II gave a commission to Anthemius,[75]

the Praetorian Prefect, to build a new wall in advance of the old

one nearly a mile further down the peninsula. The intramural space

was thus increased by an area more than equal to half its former

dimensions; and, with the exception of some small additions on the

Propontis and the Golden Horn, this wall marked the utmost limit

of Constantinople in ancient or modern times. In 447 a series of

earthquakes, which lasted for three months, laid the greater part of

the new wall in ruins, fifty-seven of the towers, according to one

account,[76] having collapsed during the period of commotion. This

was the age of Attila and the Huns, to whom Theodosius, sooner than

offer a military resistance, had already agreed to pay an annual

tribute of seven hundred pounds of gold.[77] With the rumour that

the barbarians were approaching the undefended capital the public

alarm rose to fever-heat, and the Praetorian Prefect of the time,

Cyrus Constantine, by an extraordinary effort, not only restored the

fortifications of Anthemius, but added externally a second wall on a

smaller scale, together with a wide and deep fosse,[78] in the short

space of sixty days. To the modern observer it might appear incredible

that such a prodigious mass of masonry, extending over a distance of

four miles, could be reared within two months, but the fact is attested

by two inscriptions still existing on the gates,[79] by the Byzantine

historians,[80] and by the practice of antiquity in times of impending

hostility.[81]

II. TOPOGRAPHY

Having now traced the growth of the city on the Golden Horn from

its origin in the dawn of Grecian history until its expansion into

the capital of the greatest empire of the past, I have reached the

threshold of my actual task—to place before the reader a picture

of Constantinople at the beginning of the sixth century in its

topographical and sociological aspects. The literary materials,

though abundant, are in great part unreliable and are often devoid of

information which would be found in the most unpretentious guide-book

of modern times.[82] On the other hand the monumental remains are

unusually scanty, insignificant indeed compared with those of Rome, and

few cities, which have been continuously occupied, have suffered so

much during the lapse of a few centuries as Constantinople. Political

revolution has been less destructive than that of religion, and

Moslem fanaticism, much more than time or war, has achieved the ruin

of the Christian capital. On this ground, the same calamities which

Christianity inflicted on paganism in the fourth century, she suffered

herself at the hands of Islam in the fifteenth.

The modern visitor, who approaches Constantinople, is at once

impressed by the imposing vista of gilded domes and minarets, which

are the chief objective feature of the Ottoman capital. It is scarcely

necessary to say that in the sixth century the minaret, uniquely

characteristic as it is of a Mohammedan city, would be absent, but

the statement must also be extended to the dome, the most distinctive

element in Byzantine architecture, which at the date of my description

scarcely yet existed even in the conception of the builder.[83] If

we draw near from the Sea of Marmora (the Propontis) at the time

of this history, we shall observe, extending by land and sea from

the southernmost point, the same ranges of lofty walls and towers,

now falling into universal ruin, but then in a state of perfect

repair. Within appear numerous great houses and several tall columns

interspersed among a myriad of small red-roofed dwellings, densely

packed; and here and there the eye is caught by a gleam of gilded tiles

from the roof of a church or a palace. In order to inspect the defences

on the land side, the aspect of the city most strongly fortified,

we must disembark near the south-west corner of the Xerolophos, the

locality now known as the Seven Towers. Without the city, towards

the west, the ground consists of flowery meadows diversified by

fruit-gardens and by groves of cypress and plane trees.[84] Almost

at the water’s edge is an imposing bastion, which from its circular

form is called the Cyclobion.[85] Proceeding inland we shall not at

this date find a road winding over hill and dale from sea to sea as

at the present day.[86] Most of the country is occupied by walled

_philopatia_ or pleasaunces in which landscape gardening has been

developed with considerable art, suburban residences of the Byzantine

aristocracy.[87] In a grove about a mile from the shore we come upon a

certain well, which is regarded as sacred and frequented by sufferers

from various diseases on account of the healing virtue attributed to

its waters.[88] Northwards the extramural district abutting on the

Golden Horn is called Blachernae from the chief of a Thracian tribe,

which formerly occupied this quarter.[89] Here, contiguous to the wall,

we may notice a small summer palace on two floors, built of brick with

rows of stone-framed, arched windows, now undergoing restoration and

extension by the Emperor Anastasius.[90] A few paces further on is a

Christian chapel dedicated to the Theotokos or Mother of God, founded

by Pulcheria,[91] the pious but imperious sister of Theodosius II, and

finally the maiden wife of the Emperor Marcian. Hard by is a natural

well,[92] which from its interesting associations is now beginning to

ripen into sanctity.

The scheme of fortification consists of three main defences: (1) a

foss, (2) an outer wall with frequent towers, and (3) an inner wall,

similar, but of much greater proportions.

(1) Since the moat necessarily follows the trend of the ground as it

rises on either side from the beach to the dorsum of the peninsula,

this canal, instead of maintaining a uniform level, consists of a

number of sections divided by cross-walls, the distances between which

are determined by the exigences of ascent or descent. In its course

it outlines the contour of the walls, which advance on the peninsula

from each end in the form of a bow. The average width of this foss is

about sixty, and its depth about thirty feet. It is lined on both sides

from the bottom with substantial stone walls, but, whilst that on the

outside only reaches the level of the ground, the wall next the city,

with a crenellated top, rises for several feet,[93] so as to convey

the impression of a triple wall of defence. In peace time the water is

allowed to run low, but if an assault is apprehended the trench can be

quickly flooded by means of earthenware pipes concealed within the

partition walls. From these conduits the city also derives a secret

supply of water not likely to be tampered with by a besieging army.[94]

(2) At a distance of about twenty yards from the inner edge of the

moat, rising to a height of nearly thirty feet, with dentated parapets,

stands the lesser wall. Towers of various shapes, square, round, and

octagonal, project from its external face at intervals of about fifty

yards. Each tower overtops the wall and possesses small front and

lateral windows, which overlook the level tract[95] stretching from

the foss. High up in each tower is a floorway having an exit on the

intramural space behind, and they have also steps outside which lead

to the roof. The vacant interval between the walls is about fifty feet

wide, usually called the _peribolos_.[96] It has been artificially

raised to within a few feet of the top of the wall by pouring into it

the earth recovered in excavating the moat.[97] This is the special

vantage-ground of the defenders of the city during a siege: from hence

mainly they launch their missiles against the enemy or engage them

in a hand-to-hand fight should they succeed in crossing the moat and

planting their scaling-ladders against the wall.[98]

(3) Bounding the _peribolos_ posteriorly lies the main land-wall of

Constantinople, the great and indisputable work of Theodosius II. In

architectural configuration it is almost similar to the outer wall, but

its height is much greater, and its towers, placed so as to alternate

with the smaller ones in front, occupy more than four times as much

ground. Built as separate structures, but adherent to the wall behind,

they rise above it and project forwards into the interspace for more

than half its breadth. Most of the towers are square, but those of

circular or octagonal shape are not infrequent. In level places

offering facilities for attack the wall has a general height of seventy

feet, but in less accessible situations, on rising or rugged ground, it

attains to little more than half that elevation.[99] As in the case of

the outer defences, the wall and towers are crested by an uninterrupted

series of crenellated battlements.

The towers are entered from the city at the back, and within each

one is a winding stone staircase leading to the top. Here, sheltered

by the parapet, there is room for sixty or seventy men to assail an

enemy with darts or engines of war. There is also a lower floor from

which a further body of soldiers can act on the offensive by means

of front and side windows or loopholes. At intervals certain of the

towers have an exit on the _peribolos_ for the use of those militants

who have their station on that rampart. In time of peace these towers

serve as guard-houses, and the sentries are enjoined to maintain their

vigilance by passing the word of each successive hour from post to post

during the night.[100] The usual thickness of this wall is about eight

feet, but no regular rampart has been prepared along the summit, the

defensive value of such an area being superseded by the _peribolos_.

Hence the top, the width of which is limited to less than five feet

by the encroachment of the parapet, has no systematic means of access

from the ground or from the towers. Hewn stone, worked in the vicinity,

has been used for the construction of these fortifications,[101]

and in some places close to the city the ground may be seen to have

been quarried into hills and hollows[102] for the supply of the

builders.[103]

At about every half mile of their length these walls are pierced

by main gateways for the passing to and fro of the inhabitants. In

these situations the inner wall is increased to more than treble

its ordinary thickness, and the passage is flanked by a pair of the

greater towers, which here approximate at much less than their usual

distance. The thoroughfare consists of a deep and lofty archway, which

on occasion can be closed by ponderous doors revolving on huge iron

hinges. Opposite each gate the moat is crossed by wooden drawbridges

easily removable in case of a siege. The most southerly entrance, being

opposite the holy well, is called the Gate of the Fountain; next comes

the Gate of Rhegium, then that of St. Romanus, fourthly the Charsios or

oblique Gate,[104] and lastly the Xylokerkos Gate—that of the wooden

circus. Between the third and fourth gates the moat is deficient

and the walls are tunnelled for the transit of the streamlet Lycus,

which, though almost dry in summer, swells to a considerable volume

in winter. The second and last portals bear metrical inscriptions,

differing verbally, but each declaring the fact that the Prefect, Cyrus

Constantine, built the wall in two months.[105] On the second gate,

that of Rhegium, the circumstance is recorded in a Latin tristich as

well as in a Greek distich.[106]

Besides these popular approaches there is another series of five gates,

architecturally similar, but designed only for military or strategic

purposes. About intermediate in position and in line with neither

roads nor bridges, they are closed to the general public and named

merely in numerical succession from south to north.[107] Just above the

third gate, that is, about half way between the Golden Horn and the

Propontis, the walls dip inwards for a distance of nearly one hundred

yards, forming a crescent or, as the Greeks call it, Sigma.[108]

The first strategic gate, first also of the land-wall, being scarcely

a furlong from the Propontis, offers a notable exception to the

constructive plainness of all the other entries. Intended only as

a state entry to the capital for the display of Imperial pomp, it

has been built and adorned with the object of rendering it the most

splendid object in this part of the city. A pair of massive towers,

each one hundred feet high, advance from a façade of equal altitude,

which is traversed by three arched portals, that in the centre being

elevated to sixty feet. The whole is constructed in white marble,

and this chaste and imposing foundation is made resplendent by the

addition of gilded statues, bas-reliefs, and mouldings. From a central

pedestal above rises a figure of Victory[109] with flowing draperies,

her hand extended offering a laurel crown. At her feet stands an

equestrian statue of Theodosius the Great,[110] and from the extremity

of each tower springs the two-headed Byzantine eagle.[111] Below, the

surfaces of the monument are ensculptured all round with mythological

designs,[112] among which we may recognize Prometheus the Fire-giver,

Pegasus, Endymion, the labours of Hercules and many others. Corinthian

columns of green-veined marble[113] bound the main portal, within which

is erected a great cross.[114] In the fore area are placed a pair of

marble elephants, recalling those used by Theodosius in his triumphal

procession after the defeat of Maximus of Gaul; and behind these his

grandson,[115] the builder of the gate, has raised a column bearing a

statue of himself. Profusely gilded, this elaborate pile is popularly

and officially known as the Golden Gate.[116]

To proceed with our survey we may re-embark on the Propontis and skirt

the promontory by water from end to end of the land-wall, passing

through the mouth of the Bosphorus between Europe and Asia and

finishing our circuit in the upper reaches of the Golden Horn. The

single south wall, rising from the brink of the sea, is similar to that

of Anthemius, and the towers exhibit the same diversity of form.[117]

Courses of rough stones immersed in the water lie along its base and

form a kind of primitive breakwater, which saves its foundations from

being sapped by the waves in tempestuous weather. These are said to

have been quarried from the tops of the hills during the process of

levelling the ground for the extension of the city, and then, at the

suggestion of Constantine, sent rolling down the slopes until they

became lodged in their present position.[118]

Several gates in this wall give access to the water, but they possess

no architectural distinction. Westerly is the Porta Psamathia or

Sand-gate, so called because an area of new ground has been formed

here by silting up of sand outside the wall.[119] Near the opposite

extremity is the Porta Ferrea or Iron-gate, thus designated from the

unstable beach having been guarded by rails of iron to enable it to

sustain the ponderous burdens imported by Constantine.[120] Towards the

centre of this shore is situated the Gate of St. Aemilian, named from

its proximity to a church sacred to that martyr.[121] More noticeable

in this range of wall are the entrances to two excavated harbours,

each closed by a chain stretching between a pair of containing towers.

The first, at the foot of the Xerolophos, dates from the time of

Constantine, who called it the Port of Eleutherius[122] after his

master of the works. Remade by Theodosius I, it has since been most

commonly associated with the name of that emperor.[123] Paved at the

bottom and surrounded by a stone quay,[124] it is about a Roman mile

in circuit,[125] and is divided centrally by a dike into an inner and

outer basin.[126] More easterly is another similar but smaller harbour,

having only one basin, designated Port Julian[127] from its Imperial

founder, but it is more often spoken of as the New Port.[128] Owing,

however, to the exceptional suitability for shipping of the north side

of the city, both these harbours have gradually fallen into disuse

and, becoming choked with sand, have been looked on merely as fit

receptacles for the rubble accumulated in clearing building sites.[129]

But the Port of Julian is soon to be reopened, for, at the direction

of Anastasius, rotatory pumps have been fixed to empty it of its water

and dredging operations are in progress.[130] To insure its continued

patency a mole is even in course of construction in the Propontis over

against its mouth.[131] Passing the Porta Ferrea, as we begin to round

the headland, a large mansion or palace comes into view, substituted

apparently for the wall in about fifty feet of its length. Fronted

along its base with slabs of white marble, the edifice presents a

lofty stone balcony overhanging the water,[132] and opening on to it,

a central group of three rectangular windows or doors with jambs and

lintels of sculptured stone. Above, a row of seven nearly semicircular

windows indicates the uppermost floor of the building, which is known

as the palace of the Boukoleon. Contiguous, to the west, we observe a

small but very ornate harbour, formed on quite a different plan from

those previously seen. Curved piers of masonry, enriched with marbles,

extending from the land, inclose about an acre of water, which is

approached from the city by flights of white marble steps.[133] On

the intervening quay rests a handsome group of statuary representing

a lion and a bull in the agonies of a death struggle.[134] This is

the exclusive port of the Imperial Palace,[135] an important segment

of which adjoins the wall at this point. Both palace and harbour have

taken the name of Boukoleon from the piece of sculpture which so

conspicuously marks the site.[136] In this vicinity, behind the wall

on the city level, is the palace of the once famous Persian refugee,

Prince Hormisdas.[137]

Farther on is a small entry from the water leading to a chapel sacred

to the Theotokos, surnamed the Conductress, another foundation of

the devout Pulcheria.[138] Here are preserved a portrait of the

Virgin painted by St. Luke, the swaddling-clothes of Jesus, and other

recondite memorials of Gospel history[139] grafted by imposture on the

credulity of the age. This Conductress,[140] by virtue of a holy fount,

is credited with being able to point out the way for the blind to

receive their sight;[141] and a retreat for the blind, therefore, has

been established on the spot.[142]

As soon as we turn the north-east point, which marks the beginning of

the Golden Horn, we exchange the inhospitable aspect of a fortified

coast for a busy scene of maritime life. The wall recedes gradually

to some distance from the waterline and forms an inconspicuous

background to the impressive spectacle, which indicates the port

of entry of a vast city. In the course of over a mile the shore

has been fashioned into wharves from which three sets of stairs of

ample width descend to the water’s edge to facilitate the unloading

of vessels. The first stair, named from its constructor, is that of

Timasius;[143] next comes that of Chalcedon;[144] and lastly the

stairs of Sycae,[145] a region of the city on the opposite side of

the gulf. Alternating with the stairs are placed the entrances of

two excavated harbours: the Prosphorian Port[146] for the landing of

all kinds of imported provisions, and the Neorian Port, used chiefly

as a naval station and for ship-building. The quays of the latter

port, which are distinguished by the brazen statue of an ox, are also

habitually frequented by the merchants of Constantinople, who make it

their principal Exchange.[147] Similarly the vacant spaces about the

Prosphorian Port are set apart for a cattle market.[148]

The first issue from the city on this side is called the Gate of

Eugenius,[149] and is situated in the retreating portion of the wall.

More remarkable is the Tower of Eugenius, called also the Centenarian

Tower,[150] a massive pile closer to the bank, which corresponds to a

similar erection across the water. These structures are the work of

Constantine, who raised them to serve as the points of attachment of

a ponderous iron chain, which should close the Golden Horn against

the attack of a hostile fleet. So far, however, no enemy has been

encountered so adventurous as to necessitate the practical application

of this means of defence.[151]

Beyond the stairs of Sycae the locality is called the Zeugma.[152] This

tract is reserved for the storage of wood, which, coal being unknown,

is the only fuel available for cooking, heating of baths, and all other

purposes. Immense quantities have, therefore, to be brought down by sea

from the wild countries bordering on the Euxine[153] and deposited here

for the use of the Constantinopolitans. At this point we have reached

the limits of the wall of Byzantium and henceforth to the end of the

land-wall at Blachernae this side of the city lies open to the water.

Deeming it improbable that the town should ever be assaulted from this

sequestered inlet, Constantine and his successors have omitted to

fortify this bank. Originally this shore was indented by a number of

small creeks,[154] but the teeming population, overflowing into every

available space, has now so crowded the strand with houses that the

outer rank, founded on piles, extends beyond the water’s edge.[155]

In the further part of this district the stream becomes narrower, and

from a projecting point a wooden bridge has been thrown across to the

opposite shore.[156] In its vicinity a brazen dragon commemorates

or suggests a legend of virgins ravished and devoured until the

destruction of the monster by St. Hypatius.[157] A slight expansion of

the Golden Horn at Blachernae is called the Silver Bay.[158]

Having inspected the outside of Constantinople, it now remains for us

to enter the city and pass in review its principal streets, buildings,

and open spaces, whence we shall be led to make some acquaintance

with the manners and customs of its inhabitants. From the Gate of

Eugenius we can proceed directly to the most aristocratic quarter,

where a majority of the public buildings are clustered round the

Imperial Palace. Inside we shall find that thoroughfares of three

kinds intersect the city for the purposes of general traffic: (1) main

or business streets; (2) squares or market-places; and (3) lanes or

side-streets for private residents.

(1) A main street consists of an open paved road, not more than

fifteen feet wide, bounded on each side by a colonnade or portico.

More than fifty of such porticoes are in existence at this date, so

that a pedestrian can traverse almost the whole city under shelter

from sun or rain.[159] Many of them have an upper floor, approached by

wooden or stone steps, which is used as an _ambulacrum_ or promenade.

They are plentifully adorned with statuary of all kinds, especially

above,[160] and amongst these presentments of the reigning emperor

are not infrequent. The latter may be seen in busts of brass and

marble, in brazen masks, and even in painted tablets.[161] Such

images are consecrated and are sometimes surreptitiously adored

by the populace with religious rites.[162] They are also endowed

with the legal attribute of sanctuary, and slaves not uncommonly

fly to them for refuge as a protest against ill-treatment by their

masters.[163] Portraits of popular actors, actresses, and charioteers

may also be observed, but they are liable to be torn down if posted

close to the Imperial images or in any position too reputable for

their pretensions.[164] On the inside the porticoes are lined for the

most part by shops and workshops.[165] Opening on to them in certain

positions are public halls or auditoriums, architecturally decorative

and furnished with seats, where meetings can be held and professors

can lecture to classes on various topics.[166] Between the pillars of

the colonnades next the thoroughfare we find stalls and tables for

the sale of all kinds of wares. In the finer parts of the city such

stalls or booths must by law be ornamentally constructed and encrusted

outside with marbles so as not to mar the beauty of the piazza.[167]

At the tables especially are seated the money-changers or bankers, who

lend money at usury, receive it at interest, and act generally as the

pawnbrokers of the capital.[168] Such pleasant arcades have naturally

become the habitual resort of courtezans,[169] and they are recognized

as the legitimate place of shelter for the houseless poor.[170]

(2) The open spaces, to which the Latin name of _forum_ is applied

more often than the Greek word _agora_, are expansions of the main

streets, and, like them, are surrounded on all sides by porticoes. They

are not, however, very numerous and about a dozen will comprise all

that have been constructed within the capital. They originate in the

necessity of preserving portions of the ground unoccupied for use as

market-places, but the vacant area is always more or less decorative

and contains one or more monuments of ornament or utility. Each one

is named distinctively either from the nature of the traffic carried

on therein or in honour of its founder, and most of them will deserve

special attention during our itinerary of the city.

(3) The greater part of the ground area of Constantinople is, of

course, occupied by residential streets, and these are usually,

according to modern ideas, of quite preposterous narrowness.[171]

Few of them are more than ten feet wide, and this scanty space is

still more contracted above by projecting floors and balconies. In

many places also the public way is encroached upon by _solaria_ or

sun-stages, that is to say by balconies supported on pillars of wood

or marble, and often furnished with a flight of stairs leading to the

pavement below. In such alleys low windows, affording a view of the

street, or facile to lean out of,[172] are considered unseemly by the

inmates of opposite houses. Hence mere light-giving apertures, placed

six feet above the flooring, are the regular means of illumination.

Transparent glass is sometimes used for the closure of windows, but

more often we find thin plates of marble or alabaster with ornamental

designs figured on the translucent substance.[173] Simple wooden

shutters, however, are seen commonly enough in houses of the poorer

class.[174]

Impatient to see the immense vacant area which he added to Byzantium

covered with houses Constantine exercised little or no supervision over

private builders; necessary thoroughfares became more or less blocked,

walls of public edifices were appropriated as buttresses for hastily

erected tenements, and the task of evolving order out of the resulting

chaos was imposed on succeeding rulers.[175] On Constantinople becoming

the seat of empire, as a resident of the period remarks, “such a

multitude of people flocked hither from all parts, allured by military

or mercantile pursuits, that the citizens out of doors and even at home

are endangered by the unprecedented crush of men and animals.”[176] In

447 Zeno, taking advantage of an extensive fire, promulgated a very

stringent building act, contravention of which renders the offending

structure liable to demolition, and inflicts a fine of ten pounds of

gold on the owner. The architect also becomes liable in a similar

amount, and is even subjected to banishment if unable to pay.[177] By

this act, which remains permanently in force throughout the Empire,

the not very ample width of twelve feet is fixed for private streets,

_solaria_ and balconies must be at least ten feet distant from

similar projections on the opposite side, and not less than fifteen

feet above the pavement; whilst stairs connecting them directly

with the thoroughfare are entirely abolished. Prospective windows

also are forbidden in streets narrower than the statutory allowance

of twelve feet. These enactments, however, too restricted in their

practical application, have done but little to relieve the congested

thoroughfares. Thus, long afterwards, another resident complains that

every spot of ground is occupied by contiguous dwellings to such an

extent that “scarcely can an open space be discovered, which affords a

clear view of the sky without raising the eyes aloft.”[178]

These by-streets, of which there are more than four hundred[179] in

the capital, consist chiefly of houses suitable for single families of

the middle or lower classes. There are also, however, a large number

of dwellings for collective habitation, which cover a greater area and

rise by successive stories to an unusual height; but by law they are

not allowed to exceed an altitude of one hundred feet.[180] When one

side of such buildings is situated next a portico the adjacent part of

the ground floor is usually fitted up as a range of shops.[181]

Besides the ordinary domiciles, which constitute the bulk of the

city, there are the mansions or palaces of the wealthy, situated in

various choice and open positions throughout the town. Such residences

are generally two-storied, and have ornamental façades on which

sculptured pillars both above and below are conspicuous. The windows,

arched or rectangular, are divided by a central pilaster, and the

roof, usually slanting, is covered with wood or thin slabs of stone.

Within, a lofty hall is supported on tall columns surmounted by gilded

capitals, and the walls are inlaid with polished marbles of various

colours and textures. Throughout the house the principal apartments

are similarly decorated, and even bedrooms are not destitute of the

columnar adornments so dear to luxurious Byzantines. Ceilings are

almost invariably fretted and liberally gilt. In houses of this class

a central court, contained by a colonnade, giving air and light to

the whole building, is considered a necessity. Much wealth is often

expended in order to give this space the appearance of a landscape in

miniature. Trees wave, fountains play, and artificial streams roll over

counterfeited cliffs into pools stocked with tame fish.[182]

Within the gate of Eugenius we are on the northern slopes of the

first hill, whereon was placed the citadel of Byzantium. Rounding

it to the east we soon approach a tall Corinthian column of white

marble, bearing on its summit a statue of Byzas,[183] a memorial of the

victories by land and sea of Venerianus or other Byzantine generals

over the marauding Goths about 266.[184] “Fortune has returned to the

city,” so runs the inscription on the base, “since the Goths have

been overcome.”[185] But these events have now passed into oblivion,

and the vicinity is given up to low taverns, whilst in the popular

mind the monument is associated with the more signal exploits of

Pompey the Great in his Mithridatic wars.[186] To the south of this

pillar, and close to the eastern wall, is situated the Imperial

arsenal or Manganon, founded by Constantine, a repertory of weapons of

all descriptions, and of machines used in the attack and defence of

fortifications.[187] It contains, besides, a military library.[188]

Passing the Cynegium, a deserted amphitheatre of pre-Constantinian

date,[189] and a small theatre, we may make the circuit of the first

hill on the south side and enter the chief square of the city. This

area, the ancient market-place of Byzantium,[190] is called the

Augusteum,[191] that is the Imperial Forum; and it forms a court to

those edifices which are particularly frequented by the Emperor.

Around it are situated his Palace, his church, his Senate-House, and

a vast Circus or Hippodrome, where the populace and their ruler are

accustomed to meet face to face. Almost all the public buildings at

this date, which aspire to architectural beauty, are constructed more

or less exactly after the model of the classical Greek temple; that

is, they are oblong, and have at each end a pediment corresponding to

the extremities of a slanting roof. The eaves, projecting widely and

supported on pillars, form a portico round the body of the building,

which, in the most decorative examples, is excavated externally by a

series of niches for the reception of statues.[192] The vestibule of

the Palace, which opens on the southern portico of the Augusteum, is a

handsome pillared hall named Chalke, or the Brazen House, from being

roofed with tiles of gilded brass.[193] An image of Christ, devoutly

placed over the brazen gates which close the entrance, dates back

to Constantine,[194] but the remainder of the building has lately

been restored by Anastasius.[195] This vestibule leads to several

spacious chambers or courts which are rather of an official than of a

residential character. Amongst these most room is given to the quarters

of the Imperial guards, which are divided into four companies called

Scholars, Excubitors, Protectors, and Candidates respectively.[196]

The latter are distinguished by wearing white robes when in personal

attendance on the Emperor.[197] Here also we find a state prison, the

Noumera, a great banqueting hall, the Triclinium of Nineteen Couches,

and a Consistorium or Throne-room.[198] Three porphyry steps at one

end of this apartment lead to the throne itself, which consists of

an elaborately carved chair adorned with ivory, jewels, and precious

metals. It is placed beneath a silver _ciborium_, that is, a small

dome raised on four pillars just sufficiently elevated to permit of

the occupant standing upright. The whole is ornamentally moulded, a

pair of silver eagles spread their wings on the top of the dome, and

the interior can be shut in by drawing rich curtains hung between the

columns.[199]

Beyond Chalke, the term includes its dependencies, we enter a court,

colonnaded as usual, which leads on the right to a small church

dedicated to St. Stephen,[200] the upper galleries of which overlook

the Hippodrome. On the left, that is on the east of this court, is

an octagonal hall, the first chamber in a more secluded section of

the palace called Daphne.[201] It derives its name from a notable

statue of Daphne, so well known in Greek fable as the maiden who

withstood Apollo.[202] On the domed roof of this second vestibule

stands a figure, representing the Fortune of the City, erected by

Constantine.[203] The palace of Daphne contains the private reception

rooms of the Emperor and Empress, whose chief personal attendants are

a band of nobles entitled Silentiaries. The duty of these officers,

amongst whom Anastasius was included before his elevation to the

purple,[204] is to keep order in the Imperial chambers.[205] The

terraces and balconies of Daphne, which face the west, overlook the

Hippodrome. Adjoining the Palace on the south is an area fitted up as

a private circus, which is used by members of the Court for equestrian

exercises.[206]

Passing through Daphne to the east we enter a further court, and find

ourselves opposite a third vestibule which, being of a semi-elliptical

form, is called the Sigma of the Palace.[207] The division of the

Imperial residence to which this hall introduces us is specially

the Sacred or “God-guarded” Palace, because it contains the “sacred

cubicle” or sleeping apartment of the Emperor.[208] In this quarter

a numerous band of cubicularies or eunuchs of the bed-chamber have

their principal station, controlled by the Praepositus of the sacred

cubicle.[209] Here also are a crowd of vestiaries or dressers who are

occupied with the royal apparel, including females of various grades

with similar titles for the service of the Empress. At the eastern

limit of the Palace stands the Pharos, a beacon tower afterwards, if

not now, the first of a series throughout Asia Minor by which signals

were flashed to and from the capital.[210] The Tzykanisterion,[211]

Imperial Gardens, large enough to be called a park, occupies a

great part of the south-eastern corner of the peninsula.[212] It is

surrounded, or rather fortified, by substantial walls which join the

sea walls of the city on the east and south.[213] The western section,

which terminates on the south near the palace of Hormisdas and Port

Julian, is surmounted by a covered terrace named the Gallery of

Marcian,[214] the emperor who caused it to be constructed. A detached

edifice within this inclosure, close to the Bucoleon Port, possesses

considerable historical interest. It is called the Porphyry Palace,

and Constantine is said to have enjoined on his successors that each

empress at her lying-in should occupy a chamber in this building.[215]

Hence the royal children are distinguished by the epithet of

Porphyrogeniti or “born in the purple.” The edifice is square, and the

roof rises to a point like a pyramid. The walls and floors are covered

with a rare species of speckled purple marble imported from Rome.[216]

Hence its name. All parts of the Imperial palace are profusely adorned

with statues, some mythological, others historical, representing rulers

of the Empire, their families, or prominent statesmen and generals.

Chapels or oratories dedicated to various saints are attached to every

important section of the building.[217]

The north side of the Augusteum, opposite the vestibule of Chalke,

is occupied by an oblong edifice with an arched wooden roof,[218] the

basilica of St. Sophia,[219] commonly called the Great Church. The

entrance faces the east,[220] and leads from a cloistered forecourt

to a narrow hall, named the _narthex_, which extends across the whole

width of the church. The interior consists of a wide nave separated

from lateral aisles by rows of Corinthian columns, which support a

gallery on each side. At the end of the nave stands the pulpit or

_ambo_,[221] approached by a double flight of steps, one on each side.

Behind the _ambo_ the body of the church is divided from the _Bema_

or chancel by a lofty carved screen, decorated with figures of sacred

personages, called later the _Iconostasis_ or image-stand. Three doors

in the _Iconostasis_ lead to the _Bema_, which contains the altar,[222]

a table of costly construction enriched with gold and gems, and covered

by a large and handsome _ciborium_. The edifice is terminated by an

apse furnished with an elevated seat, which forms the throne of the

Patriarch or Archbishop of Constantinople.[223] Light enters through

mullioned windows glazed with plates of translucent marble. Every

available space in the church is adorned with statues to the number of

several hundreds, the majority of them representing pagan divinities

and personifications of the celestial signs. Among them is a nearly

complete series of the Roman emperors, whilst Helena, the mother of

Constantine, appears thrice over in different materials, porphyry,

silver, and ivory.[224] Close to St. Sophia on the north is the church

of St. Irene, one of the earliest buildings erected for Christian

worship by Constantine. It is usually called the Old Church.[225]

Between these two sacred piles stands a charitable foundation,

Sampson’s Hospital, practically a refuge for incurables reduced by

disease to a state of destitution.[226] Yet a third place of worship in

this locality to the north-west of the Great Church may be mentioned,

Our Lady (Theotokos) of the Brassworkers, built in a tract previously

devoted to Jewish artisans of that class.[227]

On the east side of the Augusteum are situated two important public

buildings, viz., the Senate-house, and, to the south of it, a palatial

hall, the grand triclinium of Magnaura.[228] The latter stands

back some distance from the square in an open space planted with

trees,[229] and consists of a pillared façade, from whence we pass into

a vast chamber supported on marble columns. It is the largest of the

State reception rooms, and is the established rendezvous of Imperial

pageantry whenever it is desirable to overawe the mind of foreign

ambassadors.[230]

Next to Chalke on the west is placed the handsomest public bath in the

city, that of Zeuxippus, the most ambitious work of Severus during his

efforts at restoration.[231] It is compassed by ample colonnades which

are conjoined with those of the Palace,[232] and are especially notable

for their wealth of statuary in bronze and marble, dating from the best

period of Grecian art. Within and without, in the palatial halls and

chambers encrusted with marble and mosaic work, and in the niches of

the porticoes, are to be found almost all the gods and goddesses, the

poets, politicians, and philosophers of Greece and Rome, as celebrated

by the Coptic poet Christodorus in a century of epigrams.[233] Amongst

these a draped full-length figure of Homer is particularly admired:

with his arms crossed upon his breast, his hair and beard unkempt, his

brows bent in deep thought, his eyes fixed and expressionless in token

of blindness, the bard is represented as he lived, absorbed in the

creation of some sublime epic.[234] The bath, or institution,[235]

as it may properly be called, is brilliantly illuminated during the

dark hours of night and morning on an improved system devised by the

Praefect Cyrus Constantine.[236]

On the west side of the Augusteum the ground is chiefly taken up by

a large covered bazaar, in which dress fabrics of the most expensive

kind, silks, and cloth of gold, are warehoused for sale to the

Byzantine aristocracy. It is known as the House of Lamps, on account

of the multitude of lights which are here ignited for the display of

the goods after nightfall.[237] Close by is the Octagon, an edifice

bordered by eight porticoes. It contains a library and a lecture

theatre, and is the meeting-place of a faculty of erudite monks, who

constitute a species of privy council frequently consulted by the

Emperor.[238] Preferment to the highest ecclesiastical dignities is the

recognized destiny of its members. In the same vicinity is a basilica

named the Royal Porch, wherein is preserved a library founded by the

Emperor Julian.[239] Here principally judicial causes are heard, and

its colonnades have become the habitual resort of advocates, who for

the greater part of each day frequent the place in expectation of, or

consulting with, clients.[240]

In the open area of the Augusteum we may notice several important

monuments. South of St. Sophia are two silver statues raised on

pedestals, one on the west representing the great Theodosius,[241]

and another on the east opposite the Senate-house, a female figure

in a trailing robe, the Empress Eudoxia, wife of Arcadius. This is

the famous statue round which the populace used to dance and sing so

as to disturb the church service in the time of Chrysostom, whose

invectives against the custom were deemed an insult by the Court, and

made the occasion of his deposition and banishment.[242] Adjoining is

a third statue, that of Leo Macella, elevated by means of a succession

of steps, whereon popular suitors for Imperial justice are wont to

deposit their petitions. These are regularly collected and submitted

to the Emperor for his decision, whence the monument is called the

Pittakia or petition-stone.[243] Near the same spot is a fountain

known as the Geranium.[244] The most important structure, however,

is the Golden Milestone or Milion,[245] situated in the south-west

corner of the square. This is merely a gilded column to mark the

starting-point of the official measurement of distances, which are

registered systematically on mile-stones fixed along all the main

roads of the Empire. But, in order to signalize its position, a grand

triumphal arch, quadrilateral, with equal sides, and four entries, has

been erected above it. The arch is surmounted by figures of Constantine

and his mother holding a great cross between them. This group is

of such magnitude that it is not dwarfed by equestrian statues of

Trajan and Hadrian, which are placed behind it.[246] Beneath the arch

a flying group, representing the chariot of the Sun, drawn by four

flame-coloured horses, is elevated upon two lofty pillars.[247]