overtures to John and to Courcouas had failed, he turned to leading
nobles and captains in the west, whom he inspired with jealousy of
Nicephorus. He sent for Marianos Apambas, once commander of the
imperial forces in Italy, to whom he committed the defence of the
city. He secured also Paschal, a former strategus, and Nicholas and
Leo of the noble house of the Tornicii. The vast ramparts of the
city, with their three hundred towers, were made ready for assault,
the city gates were barred, and a boom was cast across the Golden
Horn. The imperial guard was called under arms, and contingents
brought in from Macedonia and Thrace, who were known to be always
jealous of the eastern divisions. Bringas got a sentence of
excommunication against Nicephorus; he obtained an imperial order in
the names of the infant Basileis declaring the family of Phocas and
his partisans as outlaws.
The empress, meantime, shut herself close in her own wing of the
palace, guarded by the most powerful force she could muster to her
defence. There the Princess Agatha rushed into her room in a state
of acute agony with the news that the party of Bringas had drawn up
an order for the arrest of Basil Digenes, the akritas, whom it was
intended to mutilate or murder. "Find some way to save him," she
cried in despair, "for we owe him this service. With his heroic
spirit, he neglected all the warnings of his friends to escape in
time. He thought he could still aid the cause of his chief by
watching his interests here--and I fear that he lingered still for my
sake--though I pressed him to think of the danger he incurred. Save
him, Augusta, save the truest friend of the general and the noblest
soldier of Rome! He may be killed or blinded before an hour is
passed."
"Where is he now?" asked Theophano. "I was assured he had made his
escape into Asia to the army."
"But he came back secretly and managed to reach the apartments of my
sister and myself--in order," she added, with a blush, "to induce me
to fix a day for our marriage, if he lived through the turmoil of
these times. We have concealed him for the moment, but we cannot
protect him long."
"He shall be put in charge of our own cubiculars of the royal
chamber, and he shall be enrolled under another name in the corps of
palace guards whom I have mustered for defence of myself and my
children. We will not be beaten without a sharp fight."
The news now ran through the great city that Nicephorus, with the
vanguard of his army, had reached the shores opposite. He was
actually in possession of Chrysopolis, the modern Scutari, and his
ensigns could be seen in the summer palace of Hieria, on the shore
that now faces Seraglio Point. The excitement in the city grew
intense. Vast crowds filled the streets day and night, restrained
only by the Macedonian troops, whom Bringas had posted throughout the
city, which was declared to be in a state of siege. The passions of
the multitude rose to fever pitch when it was discovered that the
astute eunuch had taken care to have all ships, barges, and every
kind of craft removed from the Asiatic coast, and that no means as
yet existed by which Nicephorus and his forces could cross the
straits. At dawn it was found that the venerable Bardas, the father
of Nicephorus, had escaped from his prison and had sought sanctuary
in the cathedral, where the patriarch had taken him under his
protection. The guards of Bringas were sent to drag the veteran out
of the church; but angry crowds, with arms, stones, and staves, drove
back the troops, who sought to force their way into the temple and to
seize their prisoner.
It was now the morning of Sunday, August 9th, and vast crowds filled
the church of the Holy Wisdom, where the service of the day had
begun. Bringas, puffed up with overweening pride in his own
authority and confident in his military strength, rode down in person
from the palace, and with a body of his guards tried to force his way
to the very choir. He harangued the people with daring insolence and
threatened them with his vengeance and an embargo on corn. This
roused the citizens to fury, and Bringas and his men were driven out
with insults and missiles. He made his way back to the palace, with
magnificent audacity, still defying the mob, and even ordering the
corn market to be closed and no bread to be sold or issued. But
finding that Theophano and the royal princesses were strongly guarded
and barricaded in a large part of the vast edifice, where Basil
Digenes had assumed the chief command, he felt himself no longer safe
there, and shut himself up with his guards in his own palace.
The city thereon broke out into revolution, and for three days and
nights desperate street fights ensued between the bands of citizens
who sided with Nicephorus and the Macedonian guards who remained
loyal to Bringas. By degrees armed detachments of Nicephorus's
partisans made their way into the city, and some bands managed to
cross the Bosphorus. Polyeuctus, with his clergy and masses of
citizens, bore the aged Bardas in triumph to the imperial palace, and
there installed him in a strong position of defence. In one of the
desperate street fights which raged throughout the city, a woman
threw a heavy vase from a top window, which clove the skull of
Apambas, the commander of the Macedonians. His death demoralized the
last defenders of the eunuch. The mob now stormed his palace, sacked
and burned it; and the defeated tyrant, in turn, fled for sanctuary
to the great church which his intended victim had so recently left.
His partisans were hunted by the populace and thrown into prison.
The streets of the capital ran with blood. For three days and nights
massacre, pillage, arson raged unchecked through the mighty city
"protected of God." Nicephorus, with his officers and troops, on the
Asian coast, without vessels to cross the straits, watched from afar
the tumult which they were powerless to quell.
The party of the new Basileus at last found a leader. Basil, natural
son of the former emperor or usurper, Romanus Lecapenus, by a Russian
slave of the harem, had long been in high office under Constantine.
He was created a patrician in that reign, captain of the guard,
president of the senate, grand chamberlain, and general in the war
against the Saracens. He had been prepared in childhood for high
office short of empire by the barbarous rite of emasculation, which
was regarded as a grotesque form of lay tonsure.[1] But he had
wonderful energy, courage, and sagacity--a born statesman. Before
the accession of Romanus he had been displaced by his rival, Bringas,
disgraced, deprived of office and rank, and consigned to obscurity
and strict surveillance. He naturally hated the eunuch who had
overthrown him. And his hour of retaliation had come. Arming his
own household, his slaves and followers, to the number of three
thousand, he patrolled the city in force, beating down the remnants
of the Bringas faction, proclaiming the new emperor, and restoring a
regular police in the devastated city.
[1] Such persons, even if they were of royal blood, could be
intrusted with the highest office and power, without risk of their
aspiring to the throne, from which by law and custom they were cut
off as disqualified. Throughout the whole history of the Byzantine
empire, as of the sultanate, they often rose to almost despotic power.
Thence he led his men to the Golden Horn, seized the ships in port,
and despatched them across the straits to transport the army of the
new sovereign. The imperial fleet, barges, vessels of all kinds, and
open boats, carried over crowds of citizens, who flocked to hail the
rising sun of empire with shouts of "Long live our glorious and
ever-victorious Nicephorus!" On Sunday, August 16th, exactly a week
from the outbreak of the revolution, the new emperor was escorted by
the new grand chamberlain and a swarm of functionaries to the capital
to be crowned. The imperial galley, gilt from stem to stern, dressed
with silken banners and awnings, had a deck bridge adorned with
figures and emblems and an image of St. George at the prow. There
sat on his throne the new chief, as his oarsmen, with gilded sweeps,
slowly rowed the state vessel beneath the city walls round to the
suburb of Hebdomon, south of the mighty ramparts. Thence through the
Golden Gate, the autocrat, in golden armor, rode in procession to the
church of the Holy Wisdom. He sat on a white charger, caparisoned
with housings of purple, gold, and jewels. The long route of many
miles in extent, thronged with vast crowds cheering the new
sovereign, was adorned with wreaths, banners, and triumphal arches.
At various points on the course the emperor dismounted to prostrate
himself in many a venerated church before some miraculous image, and
placed lighted tapers in sign of adoration. At other spots he had to
be disarmed from his military accoutrements and invested with the
imperial scaramangion, or mantle of ermine and rare furs. His sword
was then laid aside and the sceptre surmounted with the cross was
placed in his right hand. At the Golden Gate the Saracen prisoners
fell into the cortège, and the factions met him with their eternal
chants of "Hail, victorious chief!" "Nicephorus, king of the Romans!"
It would be tedious to narrate in detail the interminable ceremonies
of that long day of triumph and consecration. It was all carried out
minutely, according to the book of ceremonies, in the solemn and
sacramental forms that had been used at the installation of Romanus
four years before, forms that had been used in the city of the
Constantines for some five centuries already, that were destined to
be used there for some five centuries more. These secular rites have
been servilely imitated and adapted by all the monarchies of the west
and of the north for a thousand years since. It was the same
elaborate consecration of a king by the high-priests of the state
church, of which we lately witnessed the revival in an age which
claims to have outgrown Byzantine servility, superstition, and gaudy
display.
In those days kings and their people attached a mystical importance
to the sacramental character of those acts of consecration. And the
new Basileus was himself a mystic among mystics. Accordingly,
Nicephorus duly prostrated himself before the miracle-working image
of the Mother of God; the tapers were duly lighted; the incense
ascended from the altars; the royal vestments were duly exchanged for
the imperial tunic. The diadem was bound round the grizzled head of
the new sovereign; the military greaves were then solemnly changed
for the vermilion buskins. And thus on foot the emperor entered the
porch of the Holy Wisdom, where he was met by the patriarch and all
his chapter. The true cross, which St. Helena had recovered, and
which, ultimately, at the fourth crusade, passed to St. Louis, in
Paris, was solemnly borne before the monarch amid the adoration of
the worshippers around. Again and again the royal vestments were
changed, after being first solemnly blessed by the patriarch. Then
the emperor was conducted by the priests to the ambon, where the
prayers and offices of consecration were said, and the holy oil of
anointing was poured on the royal person; and at last the imperial
crown was solemnly placed on the veteran's brow amid chants of "Holy,
holy, holy, glory to God in the heaven, peace to men on earth!"
But the very enumeration of the endless stages in the rite becomes
intolerable. Nor can modern patience endure the recital of the
perpetual acts of reverence, homage, symbolic gestures, of the
processions, feastings, and gala courtesies of that prodigious
ceremonial. Hour after hour the chants went on with a rhythm that
combined Oriental prostration to a despot with Christian litanies of
adoration: "Hail, Nicephorus, autocrat of the Romans!" "Hail, mighty
sovereign of the Romans!" "Hail, thou who hast put to flight our
enemies!" "Hail, thou who hast destroyed the cities of the foe!"
"Thou hast thrust Ishmael into the dust!" "God hast shown pity on His
people, in that He has placed thee on the imperial throne!" "Rejoice,
thou city of the Romans!" "Receive him whom God has crowned!" "The
people desire Nicephorus to be their king!" "The law requires him to
reign!" "The palace asks for him to rule!" "The senate calls for
him!" "The army cries out for him!" "The whole world craves for
Nicephorus to be its sovereign lord!" "Hear us, O God, when we call
to Thee!" "Hear us, O God, and grant long life to our king!" "Give
him long life, O Christ!" "God preserve him!" "Long may he reign!"
"May God keep this Christian realm in His holy keeping!"
Such were the chants and litanies which hour after hour rang through
the domes of the Holy Wisdom, rang through the streets and porticos
of the vast city. They were chants which, in a few short years, were
turned into execrations and comminations. But they are the very
words which for a thousand years the peoples of Europe have shouted
to high Heaven on the day when they have to welcome a new master and
ask the blessing of God upon his reign.
When the portentous ceremonial in the church of the Holy Wisdom was
completed, the imperial procession was formed again, led by a
body-guard consisting of one hundred Varangian halberdiers and one
hundred young nobles. The sovereign was escorted to the hall of the
throne, where the homage or "adoration," as it was called, was duly
performed. The chief dignitaries of the empire prostrated themselves
at the feet of the new lord. An endless stream of courtiers
followed, in their ranks, as marshalled by the masters of the
ceremonies. At last Nicephorus was carried back to the Sacred
Palace--now "autocrat of the Romans, the equal of the apostles,
successor of the pious Constantine, of him who had founded the city
and endowed the church, the vicegerent of Providence on earth."
There he was joined by the empress, radiant and triumphant, who
received him with a smile that, to him, was of more value than the
blessings of a thousand priests and the cheers of a hundred thousand
citizens, a smile which promised him a crown more precious than all
the glories and the powers which the empire of the world had to give.
XVIII
Emperor and Patriarch
The first act of the new emperor was to hold a council, at which he
made a series of appointments to fill the offices of the empire. He
dispensed with the elaborate code of etiquette which for centuries
had surrounded every act of the Augustus. He took his seat at the
council-board as if he were still general holding a council of war
among his officers rather than as a ceremonial successor of Justinian
and Theophilus. He did not fill up the appointment of
parakeimomenos, or grand chamberlain, the office which had made
Bringas the real master of the empire; but he created Basil, son of
Lecapenus, president of the senate, and practically invested him with
chief power. Bardas, his venerable father, whose life had been saved
in the revolution, was now created Cæsar, a title revived from an
earlier age of the Roman empire. John Tzimisces was confirmed in his
office of domestic, or grand marshal of the east. Leo, the brother,
was created a magistros and curopalates, or grand marshal of the
palace--_i.e._, practically, commander of the imperial body-guard.
Bringas was deported to a distant monastery in Asia, where he lived
in obscurity for years; but he was not otherwise punished, and was
not confined in an actual prison.
Nicephorus then ordered his own household. He refused to use the
sacred koitôn, or bedchamber of the emperors. He had his camp-bed
placed in a small and simple cabinet adjoining his private office.
He bore in public the imperial robes, but beneath them he had the
hair-shirt of a penitent. Ever since the tragic death of one as dear
to him as life, he had sworn off the use of meat and of wine. His
private table was still served as before with the food and drink of a
hermit; for he felt himself in his own eyes a monk upon the throne, a
humble follower of St. Theodore, one of the soldier-martyrs of the
faith. On the first day of his reign he had admitted to audience the
prelate Antony, syncellus (or abbot) of the great monastery of St.
George of the Stoudion, who came in the name of the patriarch and of
the chapter of the Holy Wisdom.
"Most august Basileus," he said, after the formal compliments and
statement of his mission, "the venerable patriarch, the abbot
Anastasius of Mount Athos, and myself of the Stoudion, have
earnestly, but faithfully in our duty to God, resisted your desire to
enter our ranks as a monk, for we hold that the safety of this realm
requires you to act as its commander in war and as its ruler in
peace. The duties of a monk are one; the duties of a sovereign are
other. It is impossible to be both monk and king. This palace has
been for ages the scene of royal festivities and pomps. The citizens
will not endure to be deprived of such holidays and shows; and
government of the realm could not be carried on if these things were
suddenly suppressed. We churchmen are the first to honor the pious
purpose of your Majesty, to show an example of temperance, chastity,
and godliness in halls which have long been the scene of frivolity
and vice. But the austerities of a hermit do not become a king and
are prone to be a subject of mockery and malice. It is ill wearing a
hair-shirt beneath the mantle of a Basileus in the golden
throne-room. And it is in vain to eat dry bread and drink plain
water at a state banquet in the hall of the nineteen couches. Eat,
live, sleep with temperance, not with austerity--as a soldier, not as
a monk. This magnificent palace has for centuries been the court of
an Augusta as well as of an Augustus. It is to be feared that
scandals may arise if it be given up entirely to men, to courtiers,
to soldiers, and their followers and lackeys."
"Dost thou, indeed, counsel me, holy father, to take to myself the
late regent?" asked Nicephorus, with an eagerness that was almost
fierce.
"God forbid!" replied the monk, sternly. "She it is whom we fear.
It is but five months since she became a widow. And did not her
widowhood now forbid such an alliance, her youth and her career make
it impious to harbor such a thought. Most august sovereign, we have
not offered to your Majesty a suggestion so unworthy of your
inviolable name."
"What, then, is your meaning, my father?" asked the Basileus, sternly.
"That the ex-empress, the widow of the late Basileus, must cease to
reside in the palace of the unwedded emperor, to whom she is not wife
nor sister nor kinswoman."
"And if I choose that she shall remain--being mother to the infant
Basileis," asked Nicephorus, proudly, "who will say me nay?"
"The people, who will say that their hero has taken to himself not a
queen--but a mistress; the nobles, who will hold that Nicephorus
rebelled against his lawful sovereign in order to lie with his wife;
and the Church, which will forbid you the holy things as one who sets
an example of evil living on the throne of Rome."
And with that the monk left the presence of the sovereign, who
stifled his rage, perplexity, and bitterness.
Nicephorus controlled himself sufficiently to commission the monk to
repeat the decision of the Church to Theophano in person. He did not
dare to brave the chance of such a scandal. Nor did it suit
Theophano to risk such an issue. She formally withdrew from the
Sacred Palace with all her retinue and officials, and was duly
installed in the monastery of Petrion, at the upper end of the Golden
Horn, in the quarter now known as that of the Phanar, which was
almost a suburb of the capital.
Her widowhood and seclusion did not last long. There had been a
passionate scene when the monk had insisted on her leaving the
palace, and Theophano rushed to Nicephorus and plied him with tears,
blandishments, and entreaties. She fell on his neck and adjured him
not to consign her to a life of the cloister. She had saved his
life, she had placed him on the throne, she had loved him for years.
Her dying husband, she swore, had named his beloved general to be his
successor on his throne and in his bed, and to be the guardian of his
infant children. As a stranger to the family of Basil, Nicephorus
would be tempted and even counselled to put the children away. As
their step-father, and husband of their mother, he would be their
natural guardian. Finally, in a torrent of tears and passionate
appeals, she refused to quit the palace unless Nicephorus swore that
he would make her his wife at the earliest time that was possible.
The earliest time came very soon; and the patriarch, however loath,
was obliged to perform the ceremony in person. The customary rites
were gone through, but somewhat abridged, first, by the dislike of
Nicephorus for all forms of display, and then by the fact that
Theophano had already been crowned as Augusta, and was only to be
formally restored to the high place she had occupied so brilliantly
for years. But the litanies and the chants, the blessings of the
vestments, the homage of the lords and ladies of the court were by no
means curtailed. When the ceremony was complete, Nicephorus advanced
as of right and custom to the bema, and was about to pass through the
iconostasis, or screen, to prostrate himself before the high altar
within the chancel. Such was the right of the emperor alone of
laymen--a right which no man could value more profoundly than the
imperial hermit himself.
As the emperor attempted to enter within the Holy of Holies there
confronted him the patriarch Polyeuctus, with all his clergy, clad in
vestments of high office and bearing the sacred emblems of their
worship. The venerable patriarch boldly thrust back his sovereign
and barred his progress within. Stretching out his right arm, in a
voice that rang through the domes of the gorgeous church crowded with
courtiers and officials, Polyeuctus cried: "Basileus, whom God has
crowned, thou shalt not come within this holy place. If thou dost
force a way to the altar, thou wilt incur the greater excommunication
from all sacred things. Thou knowest well the canon which imposes a
year of penance upon those who enter into a second marriage. To that
state of penance thou hast condemned thyself by the act of to-day in
marrying the widow of our late king. Not till a year and a day have
passed can I suffer thee to enter here or to touch with thy lips the
altar of Christ!"
A profound silence fell on the crowded church as the courtiers heard
the prelate defy the sovereign in the hour of his pride and glory.
Amazement, awe, wrath stirred the assembly. For a full minute the
Basileus glared at the priest who had dared to inflict on him a
rebuff such as the proud soldier had never in his whole life had to
endure. For a short space Nicephorus was speechless. But with a
great effort he smothered his wrath and concealed his astonishment.
"Priest," he said, firmly, as he stood his ground, "the king, chosen
by the Romans, and crowned by God, has the right by virtue of his
office to approach the altar. Stand back, I charge thee, ere I order
thy arrest as a traitor!"
"Basileus," replied the patriarch, with a shrill but clear-cut voice,
as his meagre form seemed to be lighted up with a divine fire within,
"there is no king within this holy place but God, whose servant and
messenger I am. Advance one step nearer to God's holy altar, and I
pronounce against thee full sentence of excommunication from all
rites of the Church."
The congregation stood aghast, struck dumb, as courtier faced priest,
soldier confronted monk--as loyalty to the hero-king struggled
against profound veneration of the sacred rites. But in that age,
and with a ruler so deeply imbued with that reverence in its severest
form, the issue could not be doubtful. The emperor mastered his
passion and submitted with majestic self-control. He slowly took his
way back to the palace with a bitterness in his soul that had made
him a new man.