military escort; the gates were opened, but, with positive
asseverations that no foreign person could be suffered to ride
through the streets of the "city guarded by God," the bishop and his
party were forced to dismount, and were taken on foot through gaping
crowds and muddy and unsavory lanes to their lodging in a remote
corner of the city near Blachernæ. The residence assigned to the
mission was an empty palace of marble, which the irate bishop
discovered to be cheerless, dilapidated, and comfortless, letting in
rain and open to the wind. The wrath of the courtly prelate, his
disappointment and vexation, could not be publicly expressed; but he
vented his spleen in the turgid Ciceronian epithets scattered
throughout the flowery despatch which he now addressed to his "August
and invincible emperors of the Romans, the Ottos, and the most
glorious and august Empress Adelheida--" a record which, with all its
exaggeration, pomposity, and caricature, is one of the most precious
documents of the Middle Ages.
Two days of delay passed in which the bishop fumed and inveighed
against "the Greeks" and all their tribe, pouring anathemas on the
building, the food, the wine, and the accommodation; on Michael, the
Sicilian, who was appointed their caterer and "steward of the
palace." His eminence now found that he was practically a prisoner,
and guarded by uncouth Russian sentinels who neither understood his
language nor suffered his attendants to pass or communicate outside.
At last he received an official summons from Leo, the brother of
Nicephorus, and curopalates, who desired to regulate the ceremonial
of the reception by the Basileus. Again the portly prelate had to
wade through mud and rain on foot; he arrived breathless and in a bad
temper, and bustled into the chamber of the royal palace, proud of
his mastery of the Greek language, and bearing the missive that
contained his credentials from his sovereign. Luitprand began a
speech that he had prepared in Demosthenic style, wherein he called
himself the envoy of "the august Basileus of the Romans." But here
Leo peremptorily interrupted him, and said, "There is but one august
Basileus of the Romans on God's earth, and he resides in this sacred
palace. Your master, we understand, is king of several tribes of the
west, and we could not recognize his envoy under any other style."
"But my lord, who of old was crowned king both in Germany and in
Italy, was lately anointed Imperator Augustus, which in your tongue
is Basileus, by the holy father himself, in the Church of the Apostle
Peter in Rome, and that with the assent of the prelates, barons, and
people of Rome. Augustus, Trajan, and Constantine had no more solemn
investiture of that holy and sublime office."
"What! do you venture to call that a legitimate consecration which
was attempted by the infamous traitor, John XII.?" asked Leo,
bluntly. "We heard that your king deposed the apostate priest who
officiated at his coronation and crucified the populace which shouted
at his installation."
"My lord the emperor has indeed had occasion to purge the prelacy and
the mob of the Eternal City, and there can be no better proof of his
imperial authority and his unquestioned title to rule," said the
bishop, stoutly.
"The pretension to assume the title of emperor of the Romans was an
attack on the prerogative of the imperial successor of Constantine
the Great," said Leo, positively. "And you, my lord, cannot be
admitted to an audience if you persist in claiming for your master
the title of Basileus."
"But _Basileus_ is Greek for king--is it not?" the bishop rejoined.
"No," said Leo; "the Greek word for _king_ is ρηχ."
"That is Latin--rex--not Greek," cried out the learned and
pertinacious bishop.
"It seems that you have come here, my lord bishop, to quarrel and to
insult us, and not to make peace," said Leo, determined to close the
interview.
Seeing no chance of pressing his point, the prelate advanced to hand
his diploma to the curopalates, in order to be laid before the
emperor himself; but Leo, with an air of sovereign disdain, declined
to handle the missive, which he waved to the grand interpreter to
take into his charge. He abruptly closed the interview, and the
silentiary conducted the disconcerted envoy to his own abode,
muttering his indignation, with tags from Cicero, Virgil, and the
Bible.
"The tall man thinks himself a master of the ceremonies," said the
bishop to his secretaries, "but he is a broken reed, like Pharaoh of
Egypt, as the prophet says, whereon, if a man lean, it will pierce
his hand."
The very next day was Whitsunday; the bishop received the summons to
attend the audience of the emperor at seven o'clock in the morning.
At six he began his weary tramp on foot from the northern end of the
city, and after some delay was ushered into the magnificent Hall of
the Nineteen Couches. There Nicephorus, in state robes (which the
irritable bishop declares were old and ill-fitting), sat on the
throne of Solomon, with the golden lions on the steps, the young
Basilei sitting on stools behind his left hand. The ambassador of
Otto, remembering the courtly magnificence of Constantine, had
expected a royal welcome. His wrath was great when Nicephorus, with
a stern look, and not rising from his throne, motioned to the envoy
to approach the foot of the dais and prostrate himself. The
Basileus, deeply resenting as an insult the claim of the German king
to usurp his title, and boiling with indignation at the outrage of
Otto's treacherous attack on the Italian provinces, began in this
fierce tone:
"It would have been our right--indeed, our pleasure--could we have
been able to receive your embassy with the amity and the magnificence
this court shows to all friendly powers. The disloyal conduct of
your master has made that impossible. He has taken up a hostile
attitude and has invaded our city of Rome, which he claims as his
own. He has put to death our friend, King Berengar, and his son
Adelbert, in defiance of law and of right. He has slain many of our
Roman subjects by the sword or by the halter; he has put out the eyes
of others, and driven some into exile. He has attacked cities of our
empire with fire and sword, and seeks by force to annex them to his
kingdom. And now, when he finds himself baffled in his treacherous
attempts, he affects to be a peaceful friend, and he sends you--you,
the counsellor and the contriver of these misdeeds--to come to our
court to act as spy rather than ambassador."
The stout bishop, full of pride in his sovereign, the great Otto, and
in the Holy Catholic Church, of both of which he was now the
mouth-piece, was not the man to be cowed by such a fierce diatribe
from the "Basileus of the Greeks"; and he boldly retorted in kind,
though much of the Ciceronian rhetoric he poured into his famous
despatch was spoken in Italian, aside to his secretary, or was
polished at leisure in his closet at home.
"When my master invaded the city of Rome it was not as a usurper nor
as a tyrant, but to deliver the city from a tyrant, or rather from a
gang of tyrants. Rome was in the hands of debauchees--nay, of
harlots. Surely your mightiness slumbered--or rather your
predecessors in title. If they were in fact, and not only in name,
Roman emperors, would they have left Rome a prey to abandoned women?
This court has never hesitated to depose, to oppress the holy fathers
in times gone by, till they have been without means to carry on their
office. As to Prince Adelbert, he insulted your predecessors on the
throne; he despoiled the Church of the Holy Apostles. My lord came
down across the Alps and drove out the traitors and the criminals,
doing justice on rebels, as the Roman emperors of old ordained. As
to Berengar and his son Adelbert, they first made themselves
liege-men of my own lord, and received from him the golden sceptre of
the kingdom of Italy. Then they turned traitors and rebelled against
him. They were driven out--but they are not dead. Your majesty is
wont to treat rebellion in very much such fashion, I trow."
"The champion of Adelbert tells us a very different tale," interposed
Nicephorus.
"Let that be decided by single combat in arms," broke out the bishop,
warmly. "Any one of my men-at-arms shall to-morrow, if you give us
the lists, prove him on his body to be a false traitor."
"Enough," said Nicephorus, sternly. "Assume that Adelbert turned
traitor. Now answer me this: Why did your master break into our land
with fire and sword? We were on friendly terms, and were
contemplating a perpetual alliance and union by marriage."
"We hold, sire," said Luitprand, proudly, "that the lands claimed as
Byzantine themes are part of the Italian kingdom--Italian by race,
custom, and tongue. They were held of old by Lombard chiefs, and
Louis, the Frank sovereign, recovered them from the Saracens. It was
only by arrangement they passed to the rulers of this realm. But now
my lord and master has sent me to effect a settlement of all these
disputed questions by an alliance of the Princess Theophano with his
own son Otto, on the terms as to her dowry which I am commissioned to
propose."
"We have heard enough of this, and must adjourn the audience," said
the emperor, abruptly. "It is past eight o'clock, and the procession
of this holy festival of Pentecost is about to be formed." And
Nicephorus rose and had himself arrayed in solemn state.
The bishop was duly escorted into the tribune of the choir singers,
and relieved his spleen by writing for his imperial sovereigns a
grotesque account of the ceremony. On his return he found things
rather less acrimonious at court.
Nicephorus had now been advised by Leo, Basil the chancellor, and
other councillors, that it would be unwise to reject altogether the
overtures of the mighty emperor in the west; and Basil and the party
of the empress ardently desired the proposed alliance. This
Nicephorus and his brother could not brook to accept, but they were
persuaded to play with the ambassador of the Ottos, at least while
the great campaign in the east was hardly at an end. Accordingly,
Leo was instructed to invite the bishop to the imperial banquet, and
there Nicephorus treated him, not so much with haughty contempt as
with the rough humor of the camp. The bishop, to his disgust, found
himself placed low at the royal table, and surfeited with the unknown
dishes--the oil, the caviare, and sauces of the banquet. His spleen
broke forth in Ciceronian epithets about the food and the resinous
wine, nor was he conciliated by the rough banter of the emperor
himself. The bishop was heckled as to the extent of the German
armies and territories, and he at once opened a high-flown harangue
on the dominions of his master and the prowess of his soldiers.
"Nonsense!" cried Nicephorus, with a loud laugh, for he was resolved
to flout and mock the Latin phrase-monger; "they tell me the cavalry
are but poor horsemen, and the footmen are so overweighted with
corselets, helmets, long swords, and big shields that they have no
mobility in action. And they eat and drink too much, making a god of
their bellies, though perhaps their drink gives them pot courage, and
they can do nothing when rations are short." And Nicephorus, proud
of his Cossack troopers and his lithe, mounted bowmen, laughed aloud
as he had done round many a camp-fire.
"Then mark this, my lord bishop," Nicephorus went on, returning to
his angry tone: "Your master has no fleet. Sea power is ours. We
make war by sea as well as by land. We have two arms with which to
strike. You have but one. If we go to war with your master we shall
destroy his seaboard cities, and reduce to ashes all that we can
reach by any waterway. Did we not drive him back from Bari? He came
there in force--with his wife and his son, with his Saxons, Swabians,
Bavarians, and Italians. All of them together failed to capture one
petty town. Do you think they could withstand us, whose armies are
as numberless as the stars in heaven or the waves of the sea?"
The indignant bishop tried to speak, but Nicephorus waved him to his
seat. "You are not Romans at all; you are Lombards," he shouted.
But this was more than the Italian could endure. Nicephorus raised
his hand to bid him be silent, but he broke forth: "Romulus, who
killed his brother, and who was born in adultery, gave his name to
the Romans. Then he opened an asylum to which homicides, debtors,
slaves, and felons resorted, and so he named the mongrel crew his
Romans. That was the origin of those whom you call the 'masters of
the world!' We, Lombards, Saxons, Swabians, Franks, Lorrainers,
Bavarians, and Burgundians call a man a 'Roman' when we want to give
him an opprobrious name. We mean by Roman whatever is most mean,
cowardly, greedy, effeminate, mendacious, and vicious. As to whether
we know how to fight on foot or on horse, the next war will prove."
This insolent philippic of the wrathful bishop was blurted out in
incoherent passion amid the derisive murmurs of the courtiers.
Nicephorus did not listen to his sallies, and abruptly rose from the
table, ordering the officials to carry the ambassador back to his
lodging. For days the miserable prelate lay there practically in
prison, neglected, and ill, he declares, from the poisonous wine and
the pickled sturgeon he had received. His piteous appeal to the
curopalates only gained him an interview with the prime-minister,
Basil, the secretary of state, and the prefect, who told him that the
only terms on which the Sacred Palace could consent to giving a
Basilian princess born-in-the-purple to a Teuton prince would be the
cession of Ravenna, Rome, and the Italian duchies to their lawful
sovereign. King Otto might have peace if he resigned Rome and all
imperial pretensions.
The diplomacy of Byzantium--the great original of which that of the
Sublime Porte and of Holy Russia have been but feeble imitations--was
employed to play with the wordy prelate, while detaining him
practically as a hostage or a prisoner. He received a series of
affronts and rebuffs. He was left whole days without supplies; he
was made to give precedence to "barbarian envoys from Bulgaria,
unkempt creatures in uncouth dress," he said. Once he was so rude
that he was sent to dine at the inn, where Nicephorus in mockery sent
him from his own table "a dish of kid stewed in pickled fish sauce,
garlic, and spices." After months of endless negotiations, Luitprand
had a final audience with Nicephorus, to whom he was forced to
prostrate himself beneath the imperial feet. "Take back our last
word to your king," said the Basileus; "let him cease to usurp our
style and infest our provinces, and then come back to us and bring us
a favorable answer."
When the great Saxon emperor learned how his embassy had been
treated, and received the vermilion and golden-sealed epistle of
Nicephorus, composed in the same disdainful tone, he again invaded
Apulia and assaulted its towns and castles. The Byzantines had been
preparing for the encounter all through the time of the bishop's
visit. Basil Digenes was in command of the forces, and he flew from
one stronghold to another, providing its defences and animating the
troops. Otto made no real way beyond laying waste the Greek themes
and plundering the unwalled towns. At last the fevers of plains and
the vigorous defence of the castles wore out the strength of his
German veterans. The emperor withdrew to the north, leaving the
Count Pandulph of the Iron Head to carry on the campaign at the head
of his Lombard and Italian force. The count gained some successes
and laid siege to Bovinum in the Samnite Mountains. Basil Digenes
threw himself into the fort and commanded a sortie upon the count's
own camp. There the Iron Head met the lord warden in single combat,
and a tremendous duel ensued. The count was dismounted and the
scimitar of Basil clove his helmet at the very instant that the huge
mace of Pandulph crashed into the brain of the warden. The gigantic
Lord of Capua was taken prisoner, desperately wounded, then bound in
chains and shipped off to Byzantium, in the same vessel that carried
back the lifeless body of his antagonist. Nicephorus mourned his
friend, comrade, and right arm, for whom he was wont to say ten
victories over the Teuton usurper and his allies would be but a poor
compensation. In the legends, romances, and ballads of Byzantine
glory, the memory of Basil Digenes long remained as the type of
chivalry and knighthood. And the Princess Agatha hid her sorrow for
her betrothed in a convent. And so, after all her adventures, her
hopes, and her struggles, she did at last become the Bride of Christ.
XXVIII
Basileus in Council
Nicephorus was seated in his privy cabinet of the palace at
Constantinople with his judges and officers of the law, for he felt
the internal state of the empire to be as vital as was the defeat of
its enemies on the frontier. He was in council with Simon, patrician
and chief secretary of state, Eustathius Romanus, another patrician,
chief-justice, and two professors from the Faculty of Law.
"My learned lords," said the Basileus, "I hope that we may now
finally pass the new law that we have in draft on 'Gifts to
monasteries, hospitals, and infirmaries in the Roman empire.' We
have called you to advise if the 'Novel,' as we propose to issue it,
will fully carry out our imperial design. We find the whole realm to
be undermined by the inordinate extent to which monastic institutions
have swollen. Multitudes who ought to serve God and this kingdom in
arms and in useful service drone away their lives in monkish
indolence. The very existence of this Christian land is in peril,
surrounded as it is by enemies of Christ, Hagarenes, heathens,
heretics, and barbarians, while day by day our people crowd into the
sloth of convents, hermitages, and hospitals for old and infirm. And
the wealth that should go into the exchequer of our state is locked
up in these unprofitable houses of refuge for the cowards and the
idlers of our people. My lords, I am resolved to mend it--or to end
it."
"Sire," said Lord Simon, the secretary of state, "the 'Novel' that we
now submit to your imperial wisdom, to be added to the code of your
predecessors on the throne, has been carefully drafted so as to
prohibit the foundation of any new monastic or charitable
corporation, while fully guaranteeing the maintenance of all
foundations already existing. We conceive it to be no part of the
purpose of your Majesty to suppress the pious foundations of the past
or to confiscate the estates which have been dedicated in law to any
religious uses."
"God forbid that I should lay sacrilegious hands on that which is
dedicated to God and to the saints. Would that I could recall some
of the follies and the errors of past years; but we will curb this
disease in the future. Monkery is becoming the dry-rot of our Rome.
Stout fellows who should bear arms in the ranks flock into these
refuges for the ne'er-do-weels, and half the land of our empire is
withdrawn from its due cultivation and its due quota of taxation."
"It will be no part of your imperial will to restrict the alienation
in mortmain of estates for the support of old-established religious
houses?" said Simon, the protosecretis.
"This must be strictly limited to the restoration of houses which
have fallen into decay," replied the Basileus.
"And will this apply to pious gifts to the use of bishoprics and
metropolitan sees?" asked the chief-justice.
"Assuredly," replied Nicephorus, with decision; "there are already
too many. They are too rich, too luxurious, and too useless. Our
realm gets no good from them. There shall be no more founded while I
bear rule in Rome."
"And as to the cells and hermitages of solitary recluses, your
Majesty will not interfere with them?" asked Simon, with some anxiety.
"Not with true and genuine cells," said Nicephorus, somewhat
doubting, "not if the man honestly seeks to live a godly life in
prayer--alone, and forever. The prayers of such avail us much. The
blessed Elijah went into the wilderness, and when he lay down to die
under a juniper-tree he was visited by an angel and was fed by
ravens. And so John, the forerunner of Christ, went into the
wilderness, and his meat was locusts and wild honey. And Christ
Himself withdrew into the desert, fasting forty days and forty
nights. Such a life is holy, and may purge the dross out of our
people. Would that I, too, myself had been suffered to end my days
in such wise. No, my lords, we approve of a true and sincere
hermitage, of these cells and lauras, as they name them, so that they
be solitary and in desert places, in rocks and mountains, far from
men. So that no cell be set up anew on habitable and cultivated
ground--this we sanction and approve with our imperial blessing."
And now Basil, the prime-minister, craved an audience, and was
admitted to the council.
"Sire," he began, "we shall have very serious opposition to meet from
the churchmen, especially from the regular orders, in all forms.
There is already within the palace a body of monks and prelates, led
by the great abbot of the Stoudion, who have got tidings of the new
imperial 'Novel,' and loudly demand to be heard. We shall have
trouble, indeed, if we have this tribe against us."
"Bring them in," said Nicephorus, proudly; "we will meet them face to
face. The Basileus will not be driven from his purpose by a whole
army of these men of God."
Presently the deputation of the monasteries was ushered in, and
Anthony, the syncellus of St. George of the Stoudion, spoke in their
name in no measured terms.
He said that the whole world of those holy men who wear the mitre and
the cowl were alarmed at rumors of the new legislation proposed.
They could not believe that their most pious and devout Basileus
designed to discourage the religious life of the capital and the
realm. Nor could he be purposed to annul the gifts of good men and
good women, who sought to save their souls by devoting their
substance to God.
"Most venerable abbot, and you, right reverend prelates and fathers
in the Lord," said Nicephorus, with a quiet smile, "it will not be
believed by any man of sense that we, the Basileus Augustus, by the
grace of God, intend aught of wrong against Holy Church and its
consecrated ministers. It is known to all men how, after the
recovery of Crete from the children of Hagar, we ourselves dedicated
a large share of the gold spoil to pious uses. Have we not vastly
added to the venerable monastery of Mount Athos, and made it the
central sanctuary of our realm? Have we not adorned its church with
trophies of bronze and of marble? Have we not presented it with
those priceless and adorable relics--a fragment of the Cross of
Calvary and the head of St. Basil, of miraculous power?"
"It is known to all men, sire," said the abbot, pertinaciously, "and
it will be counted to your Majesty at the judgment-seat of God. But
the report runs that, forsaking such excellent examples in the past,
your council have prepared an edict whereby those pious men and women
who have been blessed by the Almighty with the wealth of this world
are to be restrained from dedicating it to His service for the
salvation of their souls, even in the hour of their death."
"Let them dedicate themselves to His service in life," said
Nicephorus, passionately, "and not withdraw their estates from the
service of the state when they can enjoy them no more. We intend not
to hurt or to restrain any existing house of religion or of charity.
On the contrary, we provide for the restoration and repair of those
which are decayed. But we will suffer none to be founded anew.
There are enough of them as it stands--monasteries, hospitals,
chapelries, and bishoprics. They are rich enough and free enough in
all conscience."
"Sire, there can never be enough of man's substance reserved to God
and His blessed ones above," broke in the abbot, solemnly and even
rudely; "there can never be enough of holy men and holy women whose
lives are passed in prayer and praise."