in the womanish spirit of the people of the great cities of the Greek
peninsula. The mongrel mobs which fill our Forum and Hippodrome here
in Byzantium, the Hellenes of the Peloponnese and the Ægean islands
and seaboard, are good only to tax--or to row ships--not to bear arms
and defend their country. Happily we can fill our armies with good
men and true from the highlands of Thrace, Epirus, and Macedonia,
from the plains and hills of Asia Minor, and from all the wild
tribesmen who swarm in the frontier themes of the empire."
"Where then is the difficulty, if there are men enough and men good
enough? For I ask for none better than the troopers I have led in
Cilicia, Crete, and Syria," said Digenes.
"The enormous efforts we have to make against a circle of foes, the
vast armies and fleets we need to raise--to say nothing of the
subsidies we have to offer to barbarian tributaries--absorb immense
sums which drain the wealth even of this, the richest empire of the
world. Our immediate need is strict administration of the finances.
Thrift! thrift! my son, is the first of duties to a king, even while
gold is poured forth like water from the imperial exchequer, but so
that all serves to purchase money's worth and solid results.
Victories are won and conquests are made--not alone by stout hearts
and strong arms--but by honest handling of unlimited wealth."
"And is not the Roman empire wealthy?" asked the lord warden.
"But not wealthy enough for all its needs," the emperor rejoined,
with passion, "while half its lands are held by lazy priests and
monks, who neither serve in arms nor pay their taxes, while half the
people of the luxurious cities of old Hellas wear the cowl or the
stole. Half monk as I am myself, and monk and hermit as I have
striven in vain to be, my very first care will be to curb this
dry-rot in our people, this flinging away in idle monasteries of the
precious wealth of the empire, this consecration to hypocritical
sloth of so large a part of our people. It is not God they worship,
but some heathen idol--some sacred hog--as the apostle himself says,
'evil beasts, slow bellies.'"
But here the colloquy was interrupted by a messenger from Basil, the
prime-minister, craving immediate audience on urgent matters of
state. Nicephorus received him alone in private.
The great eunuch had hurried to the palace to inform the emperor of
the receipt of grave news from Sicily, and the arrival of envoys from
the distressed Christians of Messina, who came to implore immediate
help.
One of the first acts of Nicephorus, after his victorious campaigns
over the Saracens of the eastern caliphate, had been to denounce the
treaty of peace made in a time of weakness with the Saracens of
Africa, who were now masters of Sicily. He had insisted on refusing
further payment of the eleven thousand pieces of gold with which the
governor of Calabria had sought to buy off Saracen invasions.
Thereupon the Fatimite Caliph Mouizz of Tunis ordered an immediate
investment of Rametta near Messina, which was the sole remaining hold
of the Christian power in the island. In Rametta, a rocky fortress
in the mountains west of Messina, the last defenders of the Cross had
taken refuge, and with them were all that had escaped the destruction
of the cities of Sicily.
"The news is indeed grave," said the prime-minister; "no spot in all
Sicily remained to us after the terrible storming of Taormina and the
loss of Messina, except this fortress of Rametta, which is now
closely invested. In Italy the empire holds effective possession of
little but the themes of Calabria and Apulia on the southern and
eastern seaboards. If we lose all territory west of the Dyrrhachian
coast and the Hellenic islands, the name of Rome will be brought low
indeed, and all western Europe will be divided between the Saracen
and the Teuton."
"True," said the emperor, "it is our first duty to save the brave
outpost at Rametta, and the expedition already being fitted out must
be pushed on night and day with special haste. See to it, my lord,
the vanguard with a hundred ships and ten thousand men will sail from
the Golden Horn on the third day from to-night."
"It is impossible, sire," replied Basil, after making some brief
calculations in his note-book.
"Nothing is impossible," said Nicephorus, "it will be done. And send
to-night our swiftest despatch-boats with orders to the governors of
the Peloponnesian theme, of Bari, and of the Calabrian theme, to meet
the new force with every man and every ship they can spare with
safety."
"They shall sail within an hour," said Basil, "and whom do you
destine to command the expedition?"
"I have already commissioned Basil Digenes to the task, to take up
command when the entire armament is ready to start. But things are
so urgent in Sicily that it might be best to send him with the
advance force which is to go at once. His heroic and dashing temper
will fire the whole army he is to lead."
"He is sorely needed still in the city to organize the expedition in
all its details. We are sending out the biggest men-of-war that have
ever left our docks, with every munition and engine of war that our
engineers can devise. We have equipped more than forty thousand of
our best men, of whom nearly half are cavalry."
"Remember, that in this crisis speed is of more importance than
numbers, and dash is more needed than strategy," said the emperor.
"With such a foe, rashness would be fatal," replied the minister,
gloomily, "but I go to carry out your Majesty's orders," said Basil,
hesitating.
"They are my last words," replied Nicephorus, peremptorily, as he
closed the interview. "I have ardently desired to command this
expedition to Sicily in person. But it cannot be. The vast and
growing power of the Saracens of the east, on our Syrian and Cilician
borders, is even more menacing and more urgent than the rescue of the
brave Sicilian garrison in the west. It is a matter of myriads in
the east rather than hundreds in the west--the loss of a rich
province, not of a fortress. I must reserve myself at home to
organize the armament for Asia until I go to lead it myself."
As the minister withdrew, Theophano herself entered the emperor's
cabinet. The stern and anxious look which his face had worn during
the conversations with Digenes and Basil on the crisis of the state
passed off like a summer storm-cloud as the form of his adored wife
appeared. He started from his seat, rose, and went to meet her with
arms outstretched. He took both her white hands in his huge grasp,
drew her towards him, and looked with love and inquiry into her eyes.
"And what would my queen have?" he asked. "All that I have is
hers--all that I can win shall be hers."
She fondled him and patted his cheek, piercing him with her radiant
eyes, and said: "Does my hero think I come to ask for jewels,
palaces, or provinces, or any woman's toy? I am the helpmate of my
lord, the Basileus. Together we mounted to the throne of Rome, and
together we will raise its eternal name to a higher glory. I come
not to ask for gewgaws, but to take counsel on affairs of state."
"You have heard the black news from the far west?" asked Nicephorus.
"I have. And I come to say that the emperor must not be tempted to
go to the succor of this distant fort; he has his great expedition,
into Syria to prepare. He must not desert his capital, his army of
the east, his council of ministers--his wife--her from whom these
priests seek to part him."
"Your wishes and your counsels exactly jump with my own, my empress,"
said Nicephorus, smiling and joyful. "I have work here more urgent
even than the relief of Rametta. My place will be well filled by the
akritas Basil Digenes, whom I have decided to despatch at once with
the advanced force."
"Surely not," replied the Augusta; "Basil Digenes is an honorable man
and a noble soldier, but his marriage to the Princess Agatha will
make him a prince of the Basilian dynasty, uncle of my sons, an
inevitable rival to them, a possible rebel to yourself."
"Digenes is the soul of honor," said Nicephorus, warmly; "I would
trust him with my life. I would trust him as I trust my God--as I
trust you, the saint of my prayers."
"He seems to be even better trusted--better loved," she said, with a
bewitching air of jealousy. Theophano continued to pout. Silence
ensued.
"My hero of the eastern wars little knows the quicksands and
whirlpools of our Bosphorus, and all the intrigues of this palace and
court and people. A successful soldier, after a great triumph over
the Saracen, will find himself forced into the vermilion buskins by
the shouts of the people and the swords of his men, and driven to
head a palace revolution, however much he struggle against it
himself. Is it not so, my Lord Basileus, who dethroned me and my
sons, however much he sought to bury his glory in a cell on Mount
Athos?" And the woman shot forth alternate beams of reproach and
admiration, irony and love.
Nicephorus felt himself in a world of intrigue that he could not
understand, which he despised but could not master. He remained
silent and in deep meditation.
"You must name for this office," she said, "members of your own
family and close allies of yourself."
"Whom have I?" said he, sadly. "I have no kinsman competent whom I
can spare. I have no creatures of my own. I never had, I never will
have."
"Nay," said she at once, "you have a cousin, one of the bravest and
most dashing soldiers of Rome, the patrician Manuel, son, at any rate
in blood, of your uncle Leo Phocas, of him whom the usurper Lecapenus
treacherously seized and blinded forty years ago. Manuel is bound to
the house of Phocas forever; his bar-sinister makes any rivalry
impossible. He is a man of the most fiery nature, one whom the
soldiers love to follow."
"Too fiery, perhaps," said Nicephorus, musing; "but the crisis
demands the most reckless valor."
"Then put him in charge of the vanguard, and let the general command
be reserved for Nicetas, one of our protovestiaries, and brother of
Michael, who served us so often as messenger."
"What! The eunuch Nicetas?" said Nicephorus--"a man of hearty piety
and profound learning, but hardly fit to lead a forlorn hope."
"No; Manuel will lead the charge," said Theophano. "No captain in
your whole army a more desperate fire-eater, and Nicetas with his
wisdom and coolness will keep the hot blood of Manuel in restraint."
"I will think of it," said the emperor, who himself had often been
inspired by the wild courage of his young kinsman--"I will consider
what you urge."
"No," said the temptress. "Promise me this, if you love me."
Nicephorus did not promise; but in the end he committed the great
expedition to his cousin Manuel as cavalry leader, with Nicetas as
admiral of the fleet; and to them he added a prelate, Nicephorus, one
of the ablest administrators in the empire.
The issue was a terrible disaster. The expedition was hurried to the
Sicilian waters, where the unenterprising Nicetas wasted it in petty
divisions round the coast. Manuel forced his cavalry across the
straits of Messina, and captured that city. He dashed down along the
coast, recovering Taormina, Leontini, Termini, and Syracuse. Then,
mad with triumph, and not waiting for the whole of the force to join
him, he rushed to the rescue of Rametta. As the morning sun rose, he
could see the rocky citadel still uncaptured, as it stood proudly in
the midst of a vast amphitheatre of precipitous crags. The three
defiles which led into the plain were forced one by one by the
impetuous charges of the Byzantines; and thence Manuel, intoxicated
with victory, plunged on to the walls of the beleaguered city. Here
he was met by the Saracen general in person, who had gathered round
him his reserve--a band of swarthy sons of the desert in snow-white
tunics, wielding lances and swords of perfect temper. A desperate
hand-to-hand combat ensued wherein Manuel fell in the midst of a
mingled heap of Africans and Byzantines. The loss of their
hot-headed chief threw the whole cavalry into confusion, for their
leader, instead of keeping them in hand and directing their
movements, had scattered them far and wide over the plain. Confusion
turned to panic--panic became a massacre. As night fell, ten
thousand Byzantines lay on the bloody field, for the Saracens made no
prisoners. The relieving expedition was repulsed, the captured
cities were retaken, Rametta fell, and a dark cloud rested on the
reign of the new emperor: his grievous error sank into his soul.
XX
An Emperor's Day
Day after day the emperor rose at dawn, and with his staff rode forth
to the strategion, the great review ground of the city--the Campus
Martius of New Rome--to exercise troops newly arrived as contingents
for the army of the east. The day after the sailing of the Sicilian
expedition (destined to end as ill as another famous Sicilian
expedition), there was a lively stir in the palace to witness the
manœuvres of a division of five thousand horsemen recently arrived
from the upper Danube--Magyars as we call them, Turks as they were
then named--a tribe which had been admitted to settle within the
limits of the empire.
Basil Digenes, Bardas Skleros, with our young friend Eric still at
his side, and a crowd of officers rode into the ground on the staff
of the emperor. The strategion, or review-ground, stood on the low
land to the west of the modern "Seraglio," close to the Golden Horn,
between the Stamboul end of the floating bridge and the present
railway terminus. Bardas called Eric's attention to the typical
monuments with which it was adorned--the equestrian statue of
Constantine the Great, and the pillar bearing the imperial edict,
whereby New Rome had been endowed with the name and privileges of the
city of the Tiber.
"Six hundred and thirty years have passed," said the general to his
young follower, "since our immortal founder placed us here on this
Golden Horn beneath the new Seven Hills, and more than a thousand
years had passed before he moved Rome from the Tiber to the
Bosphorus. These various subject tribes, allies, and tributaries,
whose arms and ensigns cover this great plain to-day, change and
pass, form new nations, and go from one seat to another; but Rome
exists forever. In one thousand seven hundred years she has never
met her conqueror, nor even her match."
Eric's history was far too slight and vague to enable him to follow
this bold boast, much less to dispute it; but, where all was
wonderful and gigantic, he accepted the antiquity of the city with
awe. His mind was wholly occupied with the martial sight spread out
before him. In front of headquarters, where stood what we now call
"the saluting-point," was stationed a detachment of the Varangian
guard, who to-day were told off as an escort to the general, to keep
the ground and mark the lines. Opposite to them, at the farther
limit of the ground, was the position of the Macedonian heavy-armed
shieldsmen. Hirsute Abasgians and Iberians from the southern valleys
of the Caucasus, on mountain ponies and in shaggy sheepskins and
furs, held another side of the ground. But the main interest of the
day was a series of cavalry charges and evolutions by the mass of
Magyar mounted archers, which was the latest body of troopers
enlisted in the imperial army. The emperor glowed with pride and
hope as he shouted the word of command, which was repeated in
Hungarian dialects by the interpreter, or captain of each squadron;
and as he watched the rapid movements and consummate horsemanship of
men, who then, as now, were accounted to rank with the finest cavalry
of their age. Nicephorus, a cavalry-man from youth, called his staff
round him, and enlarged with enthusiasm and in detail on the
paramount importance on the mounted arm in war, and he forced on them
those lessons as to scouting, rapidity in advance, and the system of
successive charges which are laid down so authoritatively in his own
book on _Tactics_.
As they rode with the staff in the exercises, Eric plied his general
with inquiries and amused him with his naïve remarks. The young
hero, who had seen active service with several different nations, had
already that soldier's eye which distinguished him so much in after
years in the campaigns of Basil II. against the Bulgarians; when,
under the adopted name of Nicephorus Ouranos, he gained so splendid a
victory over King Samuel. What amazed the young Norwegian was the
complicated evolution whereby a whole cavalry division of five
thousand troopers was regularly divided into four lines, the first
the fighting line, the second the supporting line, the third behind
them as another reserve, and, fourthly, detachments on both wings.
And small squadrons were detached to lie in wait and were called the
"outlying guard."
"The force now engaged in manœuvres," said Bardas to his young
aide, whose military genius he had already perceived and resolved to
train, "the force on the field, is what we call a division (or
turma). Each division, you observe, is composed of two brigades (or
drungi). Each brigade of five regiments (bandas). The senior
general of division, whom we call a turmarch, leads the front line,
stationed in the centre of it with his standard-bearer, orderlies,
and trumpeters. Then you will see the intervals between the
regiments, to enable the reserve to pass through or the front line to
retire in order."
"Oh, but this is a complicated order of battle indeed," said Eric.
"Is all this quadruple and quintuple disposition observed on the
field in actual war, or is it a mere peace manœuvre to practise
discipline?"
"This is but the abc of tactics, my son," said Bardas, smiling. "Of
course, a Roman army on the field of battle is drawn up as you see it
here, with all of these rules--all of them and a great many more.
All this is what you have to learn, my young friend."
"But it is difficult to follow it with the eye in the clouds of dust
and the rapid manœuvres of the squadrons," said the youth,
perplexed by the amazing variety of the interlacing movements he saw.
"Well, you must study your books of military science. You don't
suppose a Roman general is to be made without hard study of rules and
formations in our manuals of the art of war. There is the excellent
_Strategicon_ of the illustrious Emperor Maurice, which, old as it
is, is still to be read. Then there are the _Tactics_ of the Emperor
Leo, the Learned, ancestor of the young Basileis minors; and, above
all others, there is the _Tactics_ of our present Augustus, which I
have myself drafted at his dictation, and which is being now
circulated to the army chiefs in the rough. Pore over that by night,
my boy, and practise its rules by day, and you may one day lead a
Roman army yourself."
"But I never saw or heard anything of all this _science_ as you call
it," said Eric, puzzled. "I have seen hard fighting with Danes,
Russ, and Bulgars. I have seen the Frank knights on the Seine.
Indeed, I was a squire of Rudolph when he marched to join the great
king of the Germans in the expedition wherein he routed the Magyars.
And I saw the flower of the Saracens of Spain when the Caliph
Abd-er-Rahman was buried at Cordova. But we never heard anything of
divisions, brigades, and regiments, much less of first, second, and
third lines of attack, reserves, and flank charges. With Russ,
Franks, Saxons, and Saracens each chief leads his own men-at-arms,
and they follow his pennon as close as they can."
"Why, of course, you never heard of all this among those wild men,"
cried Bardas, aloud, with a hearty laugh. "The Roman army is the
only army on earth that is scientifically equipped and led by
officers who are masters of their art. These outlandish barbarians
are brave enough and strong enough and proud enough, God knows, but
they know less of the glorious arts of war, of tactics, manœuvres,
and stratagem than any one of those transport details you see waiting
there with the carts and spades and shovels, or, indeed, less than
any common bearer from the ambulance train. A Frank or Saxon knight,
even a Saracen emir, would think he knew the whole of his business
when he could sit his charger, wield his lance and his sword with
dexterity, and lead a mob of his own followers pell-mell in a furious
charge."
"Ay, I have seen Saxons, Franks, and Lombards charge like a herd of
wild bulls in the Thuringian forests," said Eric.
"Oh, heroic enough, no doubt," said Bardas, with a sardonic smile.
"These knight-errants would prefer to lose a battle amid prodigies of
valor rather than to win it by craft and science. To us Byzantines
craft and science are two-thirds of war."
"And is the whole Roman army thus organized in divisions, brigades,
regiments, and attendant corps, and has each squadron and regiment a
distinctive arm and uniform of its own?" asked Eric again.
"Certainly," said Bardas; "a Roman army consists of regulars,
regularly drilled, equipped, and armed. They are not a levy of
countrymen or a casual muster of followers, tenants, vassals, and
tribesmen."
As the heat of the day began to strike, the corps were paraded,
distributed, and marched off to barracks. The young Varangian was
amazed at the ease and precision with which so large a force was
drawn off the review-ground to barracks in various quarters, and the
exact order which each arm and detachment observed. Light and heavy
cavalry, bowmen, shield-men, and foot-guards drew off in turn, with
the regularity of a modern review, each corps attended by its own
followers, engineers, transport, and bearers, with carts,
pack-horses, and camp utensils, spades, picks, saws, arrows, and
bolts--the whole equipped to take the field.
The following day was appointed for the reception of embassies from
foreign rulers, tributaries, and tribes, who had been deputed to
congratulate the new sovereign. Bardas Skleros was on duty in the
court of the emperor, and he desired to impress the imagination of
his young follower, whose great promise as a soldier of keen
intelligence and strong character he had begun to recognize.
Accordingly, he placed Eric under the charge of his honor, Symmachos,
a silentiary, or gentleman-in-waiting of the chambers, who undertook
to coach the young Norseman in the ceremonies of the day. No part of
the imperial system was more important than the practice of the
military officials to attract new blood into their service and to
impress on outlying tribesmen of all nations a sense of the power and
culture of the empire.
Eric entered the Sacred Palace from the Augusteum through the brazen
porch of Chalce, where he was now known to the guards and porters,
and, making his way through the triclinium of the scholares--_i.e._,
the guardroom of the body-guard--into the great, open, outer court,
he passed through the bronze gates there, where he was met by
Symmachos in the spacious cloister in which there stood, apart from
the main palace, the sumptuous court known as the Magnaura. He was
allowed to witness the passage of their Majesties through the Gallery
of the Forty Saints, adorned with colossal mosaic representations of
the chief martyrs and glories of the Orthodox Church; and so on
through the sigma, or great oval, to the long corridor of the Daphne.
The emperor and empress were escorted by their cubiculars,
spathaires, vestiaries, lords and ladies in waiting, gold-stick, and
sword-bearers, all marshalled by the grand master of the household.
All were in state robes and gold-embroidered mantles, with collars
and badges, according to their rank and office. From the long
corridor of the Daphne, their Majesties passed into the Church of our
Lord, which in former dynasties had been the private chapel of the
palace. There they received the lighted wax candles which they
placed before the sacred emblem, and prostrated themselves in worship
at the altar over which stood the grand and pathetic figure of the
Redeemer of Mankind.