prince's adventure and asked him again and again to repeat exactly
what had passed. But the youth was in a state of transport and
excitement so wild that the true facts were only drawn out of his
memory by degrees. "It would be too great a risk," said the courtier
at last, "to stir up a scandal in connection with the shrine of St.
Demetrius so near to the city which holds this particular ikon in
such awe. And if the girl still resists all promises and gifts, your
Imperial Highness would be wise to think of her no more."
"Never! never!" shouted the prince, in a passion; "I will give up the
throne itself, my life, my chance of heaven, but not this girl, whom
I have sworn by St. Stephen of the Daphne to make my wife."
"Surely not!" said Lord Theodore, now in genuine alarm. "How often
has the patriarch, in confession, warned your Highness against being
forsworn by that saint of all others! But tell me precisely the
words that passed. You never have vowed marriage in presence of a
witness?"
And now the youth, sobered by the evident anxiety of the wily
courtier, rehearsed all the circumstances and the words spoken in
presence of the hermit who had pronounced at the altar the fatal
words of the betrothal, as the old nurse would witness.
"And the old hermit betrothed you two, if he did not actually marry
you to the woman?" stammered out the chamberlain; and he struck his
forehead in dismay as he muttered, "God in heaven help us!" For he
well knew the close confidence that existed between the hermit of St.
Demetrius and the venerable patriarch of Constantinople. He well
knew also how deeply the patriarch abhorred the character and
parasites of the young prince, and how gladly the bold and sincere
high-priest of Hagia Sophia would see the succession of Romanus fail
or be set aside. Even the experienced craft of Theodore did not
suspect the identity of the hermit, and he never doubted for an
instant that the old priest of St. Demetrius thoroughly understood
and would use all the power over the court which the incident had
given him.
"If, indeed, the sacramental words of marriage, or even of betrothal,
have been pronounced before and by such a holy man as the hermit, and
one so deeply reverenced in the city, the case is assuredly fit for
all our care and thought," at last murmured the chamberlain. Should
he not himself promote this intrigue? He reflected. He had heard
much already of the surpassing beauty of Anastasia, of her consummate
grace and adroitness, and of all her pretension to royal birth in
Greece. He began to run over in his mind the marvellous history of
humble beauties who had mounted the throne of the Sacred Palace. He
saw, as in a vision, how he, Theodore, might rule supreme in a new
reign if he could bind to himself the infatuated prince and this
lovely but utterly untutored girl as his wife. And he well knew that
the title and the reign of Constantine Born-in-the-Purple were
running down fast into their final sands.
And so the lord chamberlain escorted homeward his young lord and his
apt pupil, himself deeply meditating on the future and its vast
possibilities, while the love-sick prince lay silent in his barge on
the moonlit water, wrapt in delicious reveries as he recalled every
word and look of his betrothed and pressed to his lips the kerchief
that he had snatched from her bosom when he held her in his arms.
IV
The Young Augusta
The lord chamberlain was not the man to disappoint the young prince,
his future master; and for some months he had carried on a most
elaborate series of schemes and intrigues. He plunged into these all
the more that he perceived how rapidly the health of the emperor was
sinking day by day. Constantine Porphyrogennetus was himself aware
of his decline. One night he had received a solemn embassy from
Olga, the czarina of the Russ, with more than usual ceremonial. A
great feast had been celebrated in the golden banqueting hall, or
chrysotriklinos. This gorgeous chamber was roofed by a spacious dome
of rich mosaic designs and lighted by sixteen windows ranged around
the base of the dome. In the centre hung a vast chandelier of
silver, while the walls were decorated with figures of saints on a
background of golden mosaic. The floor was paved with precious
marbles, now covered with rare carpets and rugs, and the emperor,
with the patriarch and three other great officers, had dined at the
golden table of high state.
The feeble emperor, who had struggled to go through all the appointed
offices of a ceremonial banquet, had been borne by his cubiculars of
the chamber through the great silver gates that led into the Long
Saloon; and, while dessert and condiments were served to his guests
in the Aristaion, he was carried into the imperial bedchamber and
laid upon a couch.
There the most majestic autocrator sank down with so much exhaustion
that the Augusta and her son, Romanus, were summoned to his side.
It was a scene that night in the innermost privy chambers of the
sovereign to point an epigrammatic essay on vanity or a pathetic
sermon upon death. While the rude envoys from the Russian capital in
Kiev were conducted, open-eyed and stolid as they were, from one
gorgeous hall to another, and were plied with every sight that could
fill them with awe of the autocrator of the Romans; while the marble
corridors, anterooms, and portals that surrounded the Golden
Banqueting Hall were crowded with senators, cubiculars,
proto-spathaires, acolytes, and patricians, all in state robes, with
chains and badges of office, and with them in picturesque confusion
were mixed the guard of honor and the quaint uniforms of the
Varangian battle-axemen, the Mighty Lord of the World and King of
Kings lay faintly reclining on a couch. His head was supported by
his youngest daughter, Agatha, who hung over her father with loving
care. Beside him, on a low stool, sat the aged Empress Helena,
herself not much stronger than her husband, and by her side the tall,
handsome figure of the young Basileus, in all the glow of his
youthful grace and the jewelled robes of state in which he now was
arrayed.
"Our son has come, my lord and august spouse," the Augusta began, in
winning tones, "to ask a blessing of his imperial father, and to pray
for his sanction to the marriage as to which our Romanus has already
spoken to us both. The noble lady Euphemia, the wife of our lord
chamberlain, is the kinswoman of the beautiful Theophano, and has
duly presented her at my court. The Lord Theodore himself has made
ample inquiries, and finds that this lady is of royal descent from
the ancient kings of Sparta, and is herself as acccomplished and
discreet as she certainly is surpassingly beautiful. If it be the
will of my lord the sovereign, the Lady Euphemia, who is now, with
her fascinating kinswoman, in my private apartments, will introduce
her to your Sacred Majesty, and she will ask a blessing on her
betrothal to our son."
"We have long desired to see our son well wedded before we are called
to Christ ourselves," the gentle emperor began, "and have long felt
grieved that he could never decide on his choice. But so
all-important is the conduct of the future Basilissa that perhaps he
did well to wait. If this lady be of royal birth, and if our trusty
Theodore and his virtuous lady are fully assured of her discretion,
deportment, and breeding, our son shall have his way and his father's
blessing. How is she named, my son, and since when and from whence
has she come to our court?"
"She is called Theophano, my royal father, a name we all love and
honor as that of my darling sister. And this wonder of the world is
but recently arrived at the palace of her kinswoman, the Lady
Euphemia, from the banks of the Eurotas, in the Peloponnesus, where
her father once held a now decayed principality. Let me bring her to
the presence of your Majesty; and your profound understanding of
ceremonial deportment will perceive how truly this royal lady was
designed by Heaven itself to be a Basilissa."
With the emperor's consent, the chamberlains and ladies of the court
at once summoned the Lady Euphemia, accompanied by her kinswoman
Theophano. The young Basileus himself stepped forward as the lord
cubicular-in-waiting announced the noble ladies in due form, and led
his Theophano to the couch of his father, himself beaming on her with
admiration and love. As she slowly advanced, with the three
appropriate reverences in use, the serene composure of her
countenance just mantling over with subdued blushes, all eyes in the
chamber were bent on her, and every soul felt a thrill of wonder and
admiration. Theophano was now arrayed in silk-embroidered robes, the
most sumptuous which the art of Constantinople could provide, and
adorned with priceless jewels which Romanus and Theodore had managed
to procure from the recesses of the sacred treasure-cell in the
chapel of St. Theodore behind the Chrysotriklinos.
In casting off the virginal simplicity of Anastasia, the aspirant
Theophano had taken on a new bearing along with the change of name.
Her manner was that of a queen, and of a queen who was wont to bend
all men to her slightest caprice. She took her place in the imperial
circle as if she herself had been born in the purple chamber. And
even the lovely Agatha, the princess by her side, seemed more fit to
be her lady-in-waiting than her sister-in-law. Never had the
imperial palace been graced by such dazzling beauty and such royal
grace. And even the autocrator himself, oracle of dignity and
behavior as he was, was bewitched into the pleasant belief that at
last his truant son had, indeed, found a royal lady worthy to
continue the race of the Constantines Born-in-the Purple.
"Approach, royal maiden of the Spartan line," said the easy and
affectionate Augustus, enchanted with the beauty and dignity of the
girl; "come and kiss thy father that adopts thee, and perform the
ceremonial obeisance in use to our queen, the Augusta, whose daughter
thou art to be."
Theophano moved forward gently, with every eye on her steps, radiant
and majestic as if Here were entering the expectant circle of
Olympus. During the three months that she had passed in the palace
of the lord chamberlain, where she had been under the protection of
the Lady Euphemia and had accepted nothing but the ceremonial
courtship of the infatuated prince, Theophano had been carefully
trained in all the minutiæ of the etiquette of that most ceremonious
of all imperial courts. Her genius for seduction had made her a
consummate mistress of all the graces of a court. And born actress
as she was, she went through the ordeal of these formal obeisances
with such perfect dignity and charm that, while the whole company
were delighted with her bearing, the emperor himself was in
uncontrollable raptures which his own fine manners could hardly
conceal.
To the morbid imagination of the now enfeebled emperor, whose
innermost religion had long been the maintenance not so much of the
empire itself as of the traditions of the imperial ceremonial, the
prospect of a marriage of the youthful Basileus to a magnificent
woman, worthy indeed of the golden throne, was an event of the first
magnitude and of almost divine dispensation. "And thinkest thou, my
sweet Basilissa-elect, that thou wilt have strength to comport
thyself exactly in all the appointed usages of an imperial marriage?"
said the doting Constantine Born-in-the-Purple, "for it needs the
memory of a proto-cubicular to go through the ceremonials without a
slip, and the majesty of St. Helena herself, our imperial ancestress,
to bear thyself fitly in that day of days."
"Most august sovereign lord and father," softly murmured Theophano,
in an attitude of profound reverence, "I have been permitted by her
Sacred Majesty's favor to offer up my prayers for help to our most
Holy Lady in the Daphne here, and a special assurance has been
vouchsafed to me that by her aid I shall be equal to the duties that
will devolve on me on that auspicious day."
"Thou shalt hear in the authentic words of the autocrator himself how
the marriage ceremonial of a Basileus is performed," said
Constantine, quite roused to infatuation at the prospect of seeing
his own court ritual enacted in his presence. "Send for the
reader-in-waiting, and let them bring in the roll of my book on the
_Ceremonies in Use at Court_. I will have the chapter of 'Royal
Marriage' rehearsed this very night in presence of the royal
bridegroom and bride that are to be."
The parchment roll, the scribe, and the reader (never far from the
side of the imperial pedant) were at once in attendance.
"Here, here is the passage," cried the feeble despot, foolishly
fumbling the rolls in his eagerness to turn to his own much-treasured
revelations of deportment. "Give me the first book of our _Basileia
Taxis_--turn to Chapter XXXIX.--on the 'Ritual for an Imperial
Marriage.' Now read--where we say how the divine service is held in
the shrine of St. Stephen the Proto-martyr in our Daphne, and so on."
The reader approached, and amid profound silence read as follows, the
imperial dotard nodding and smiling feebly to his family as each
passage gave him new delight:
"When the imperial pair have been duly diademed in the Sacred Office,
they pass though the Octagon and the Augusteum and by the Golden
Hand, and they are received by the magistroi and patricians in the
Œnopodium, and the ceremonial procession is formed. The Factions
are arranged in the Triclinium on both sides near the stairs of the
Magnaura. Then the choirs of the two Factions chant, 'Long, long,
long,' and all respond, 'Long, long life: long and for evermore!'
Then the solos take it up--'Our Saviour, preserve our Lords: Holy
Ghost, protect our Augustus! Sovereign Bridegroom, may God have thee
in His holy keeping! May God in heaven give thee grace abounding in
thy wedlock! May He who of old time blessed the marriage in Cana
bless thy marriage also, and may He visit thy spouse, so that
offspring may be born of thee in the Purple Chamber. This day is a
festival of joy to the Roman people, wherein our Lord (Romanus) is
espoused to our Lady (Theophano), our most blessed Augusta.' Then
the wedded pair pass on to the hall where the Factions are feasted,
and again the two choirs renew their chants, singing 'Hail! All
hail! Sovereign of the Romans, blessed be thy coming and that of thy
consort!' And the people shout, 'Blessings on thee, joy of the
Romans, glory of the Purple. Blessings on thee, lady, whom all
desire to behold! May God hear the prayers of thy people!' And
thence the wedded pair proceed to the nuptial alcove, where they lay
down their diadems on the bridal bed of state; and hence they pass
through the portico to the Hall of the Nineteen Couches, where the
feast is spread."
The younger members of the family now began to show visible signs of
fatigue as the reader poured out the interminable catalogue of
salaams, processions, chants, and antiphones prescribed in the
imperial _Manual of Etiquette_. And the exhaustion of the invalid
emperor was so obvious, in spite of his enthusiasm and elation, that
the Augusta induced her lord to command the close of the reading and
to retire to rest in the Sacred Chamber.
The marriage of the young Basileus Romanus with the illustrious
Princess Theophano of Lacedæmon was celebrated with all the splendor
of that age of pomp and all the elaborate ceremonial ordained by that
most rigid of all imperial purists. Constantine Porphyrogennetus,
who was now become little more than the grand master of the
ceremonies in his own palace, the veritable "Grand Monarque" and "Roi
Soleil" of the tenth century, seemed to have recovered something of
his strength from the supreme satisfaction of seeing one of his own
highest functions carried out to perfection in every detail, and by
the prospect of an assured succession to the Basilian dynasty in the
fruitful marriage of his only son. The birth of another Basil,
hereafter to be known as the mighty warrior, "The Slayer of the
Bulgarians," was soon followed by that of another Constantine,
destined to be eighth emperor of that glorious name. The Basilian
dynasty seemed saved; and the Sacred Palace was the scene of an
endless round of magnificent ceremonies, fantastic amusements,
incessant scandals, and sinister intrigues.
Marriage, alas! seemed only to have given the young Basileus
increased zest for wild sports and scandalous adventures, which were
rapidly destroying his health and sapping what was left in him of
moral fibre. Now he plunged into the forests of Thrace, now into
those of Bithynia, to hunt the boar or the bear, exhausting himself
in midnight fatigues and exposure to all weathers and seasons. From
time to time he was seen in the Tzykanisterion, or polo-ground, in
the east side of the palace between the pharos and the sea-wall.
Here the young nobles, having the _entrée_, were wont to engage in
polo and other exercises on horseback. This spacious
practising-ground had been extended and levelled by the Emperor
Basil. And here his royal descendant loved to exhibit his prowess as
a player in that manly game of polo which the Byzantines had adopted
from the Persians. The young prince had been trained from boyhood in
the game by the noble Basil Digenes, who had an hereditary gift for
this sport, and who alone was regarded as the match of Romanus. It
was no flattery when the best players in the kingdom yielded the
victory to the splendid horsemanship and keen eye of the imperial
athlete, while the courtiers and ladies of the royal households
surveyed the games from arcades of the terrace above. First one and
then another of the beauties who thronged those gay companies would
be chosen by the gallant prince to receive the crown or garland which
was the winner's prize; and the vagrant amours of his insatiable
fancy gave as much ceaseless gossip to the witty and frivolous court
as ever did a Louis at Versailles or a Charles at Whitehall. Not
that the adventures of Romanus were confined in any sense to the
Sacred Palace, nor his love-making to maids of honor or high-born
dames. Frolics, sports, orgies, carouses of all kinds--wine, women,
mummers, acrobats--all came alike to Romanus with his thirst for
excitement and pleasure. Old soldiers and the wary administrators of
the government looked sad and doubtful. But Theophano herself, whose
discreetness and virtue had been so fully approved and certified by
the Augusta and by the Lady Euphemia, was not seen to complain of or
even to perceive the excesses of her boy lord. Indeed, some
scandalous old dames who attended on the aged Empress Helena had been
heard to insinuate (with much shaking of heads and many a "My dear,
if I only could speak") that Theophano had more than once flung into
the arms of her lawful mate a pretty young thing about her own
person, who in no way thereby seemed to forfeit her mistress's favor.
V
The Dying Emperor
Constantine Born-in-the-Purple, who, if he had degenerated into a
ceremonial martinet, was neither depraved nor idiotic, watched with
sorrow and shame the excesses of his only son, though his easy
indulgence and his enfeebled will prevented him from interfering to
check them. And, steeped as he was in the narcotic poison of a crowd
of parasites and sycophants, he had yet too much experience of empire
and of the enormous burdens of its ruler not to turn with a heavy
heart to the ominous storm-clouds around his throne. He felt himself
dying by inches; and, in spite of the extravagant adulation that
formed his daily existence, he had too much sense not to be aware
that he was leaving his empire to a broken and reckless debauchee,
his wife and daughters to an ambitious and unscrupulous rival, and
the frontiers of his vast dominions a prey to powerful enemies--to
the advancing tide of the Prophet, to the savage corsairs who swept
the Ægean Sea and the coasts of Asia, and to the barbarous hordes on
the Ister and the Danapris, who hung like avalanches from the
northern steppes ready to burst on the plains below. Long and weary
were the secret councils which the broken Augustus would hold with
minister or general, high-priest, philosopher, or monk, whom from
time to time he would call to offer him advice.
The emperor of the Romans at Constantinople, feeble and pedantic as
was Constantine himself, was still surrounded by statesmen of great
experience and sagacity, who were served by an immense army of
trained officials and zealous administrators. This secular
organization kept in life and activity the vast fabric of civilized
government which had been built up by a long succession of
Constantines, Basils, and Leos, and which was carried back by
tradition to the ages of Justinian and Theodosius, even to those of
the Antonines and Trajan. It was far in advance of any engine of
government then existing on earth, unless it were for the moment in
Andalusia; and it maintained the framework of civilization and of
imperial administration at an age when both the Asiatic and the
Teutonic polities were in a state of flux and rudiment. The
sovereign lord of Constantinople still held in subjection the
manifold races of his heterogeneous dominion by means partly of the
overwhelming tradition of Roman rule, partly by the mysterious
consecration he received from the Orthodox Church, but practically by
the instrument of a trained and organized service, both civil and
military, much as the czar of Russia and the padishah of Roum have
held their kingdoms together in spite of corruption, folly, and
intrigue in the court, and at times gross incompetence on the throne
itself.
On one day, at the close of Constantine's life and reign--he was now
in his fifty-fifth year--nearly all of which time he had been
nominally Basileus, the emperor held long and anxious privy council
with several of his great officers of state. The conclave had been
almost forced upon him by the vehement expostulations of the
patriarch, the venerable Polyeuctus. This famous prelate had been
brought from his monastery, where his austere piety and zealous
spirit had covered him with a halo of sanctity, in order to purge the
Holy See of St. Sophia from the scandalous extravagances of
Theophylact, when that horse-racing patriarch had been killed by a
vicious stallion he had bred. Polyeuctus did not hesitate to rebuke
even the sacred person of Augustus himself before his whole
congregation. And, much as Constantine resented and feared the
warnings of the ardent patriarch, he silently admitted the justice
and honesty of the stern monk and fully understood the secret of his
unbounded influence. On this occasion the patriarch was supported by
the patrician, Joseph Bringas, lord high admiral and lord commander
of the eunuchs, who, eunuch as he was himself, was a man of great
intellect and power, and practically the chief authority within the
Sacred Palace. He had brought with him to the imperial cabinet
Sisinnios, one of the proto-spathaires and prefect of the city; the
proto-secretis, or chief secretary, Theophylact Matzitzikos; and his
Honor Judge Joseph, one of the spatharo candidates, president of the
High Court of Justice. These five councillors were all men capable
of governing an empire and fully aware of the perils around it.