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CONTENTS
THE CHRONOGRAPHIA
BOOK SIX:
ZOE AND THEODORA 1042 [p.113]
CONSTANTINE IX 1042 - 1055 [p.119]
THEODORA 1055 - 1056 [p.197]
[113] ZOE AND THEODORA
1042CONSTANTINE
1042-1055THEODORA
1055 - 10561. So the Empire passed into the hands of the two sisters, and for the first time in our lives we saw the transformation of a gynaeconitis **76 into an emperor's council chamber. What is more, both the civilian population and the military caste were working in harmony under empresses, and more obedient to them than to any proud overlord issuing arrogant orders. In fact, I doubt if any other family was ever so favoured by God as theirs was -- a surprising thing, when one reflects on the unlawful manner in which the family fortune was, so to speak, rooted and planted in the ground, with murder and bloodshed. Yet the plant blossomed out and sent forth such mighty shoots, each with its royal fruit, that no others could be compared with it, either in beauty or grandeur. But this is a mere digression from my main story.
2. For a while the sisters preferred to govern alone. The Empire was administered without the appointment of new officials, and no immediate reforms were brought in to affect the constitution already established.** 77 After dismissing only the members of the rebel family, Zoe and Theodora maintained in their position of authority the other ministers of state, who were men of proved loyalty and known for their traditional allegiance to themselves.**78 These men, because they were afraid lest at some future time they should be accused of introducing new ideas into the constitution, or of making foolish [114] decisions, or of acting illegally, were meticulously careful in their conduct of state affairs, both military and civil, and as far as possible, they treated the empresses with all due honour.
3. Court procedure, in the case of the sisters, was made to conform exactly to the usual observance of the sovereigns who had ruled before them. Both of them sat in front of the royal tribunal, so aligned that Theodora was slightly behind her sister. Near them were the Rods and Sword-bearers and the officials armed with the Rhomphaia. Inside this circle were the special favourites and court officials, while round them, on the outside of the circle, was the second rank of the personal bodyguard, all with eyes fixed on the ground in an attitude of respect. Behind them came the Senate and the privileged class, then persons of the second class and the tribes, all in ranks and drawn up at proper intervals. When all was ready, the other business was carried on. There were lawsuits to be settled, questions of public interest, or contributions of money, audiences with ambassadors, controversies or agreements, and all the other duties that go to fill up an emperor's time. Most of the talking was done by the officials concerned, but sometimes, when it was necessary, the empresses also gave their instructions, in a calm voice, or made their replies, sometimes being prompted and taking their cue from the experts, sometimes using their own discretion.
4. For those who did not know them it may be instructive if I give here some description of the two sisters. The elder, Zoe, was the quicker to understand ideas, but slower to give them utterance. With Theodora, on the other hand, it was just the reverse in both respects, for she did not readily show her inmost thoughts, but once she had embarked on a conversation, she would chatter away with an expert and lively tongue. Zoe was a woman of passionate interests, prepared with equal enthusiasm for both alternatives -- death or life, I mean. In that she reminded me of sea-waves, now lifting a ship on high and then again plunging it down to the depths. Such characteristics were certainly not found in Theodora: in fact, she had a calm disposition, and in one way, if I may put it so, a dull one. Zoe was open-handed, the sort of woman who could exhaust a sea teeming with gold-dust in one day; the other counted her staters when she gave away money, partly, no doubt, because her limited resources forbade any reckless spending, and partly because inherently she was more self-controlled in this matter. [115]
5. To put it quite candidly (for my present purpose is not to compose a eulogy, but to write an accurate history) neither of them was fitted by temperament to govern. They neither knew how to administer nor were they capable of serious argument on the subject of politics. For the most part they confused the trifles of the harem with important matters of state. Even the very trait in the elder sister which is commended among many folk today, namely, her ungrudging liberality, dispensed very widely over a long period of time, even this trait, although it was no doubt satisfactory to those who enjoyed it because of the benefits they received from her, was after all the sole cause, in the first place, of the universal corruption and of the reduction of Roman fortunes to their lowest ebb. The virtue of well-doing is most characteristic of those who govern, and where discrimination is made, where the particular circumstances and the fortune of the recipients and their differing personal qualities are taken into account, there the distribution of largess is to be commended. On the contrary, where no real discernment is exercised in these questions, the spending of money is wasted.
6. Such were the differences that marked the sisters in character. In personal appearance there was an even greater divergence. The elder was naturally more plump, although she was not strikingly tall. Her eyes were large, set wide apart, with imposing eyebrows. Her nose was inclined to be aquiline, without being altogether so. She had golden hair, and her whole body was radiant with the whiteness of her skin. There were few signs of age in her appearance: in fact, if you marked well the perfect harmony of her limbs, not knowing who she was, you would have said that here was a young woman, for no part of her skin was wrinkled, but all smooth and taut, and no furrows anywhere. Theodora, on the other hand, was taller, more taper of form. Her head was small, and out of proportion with the rest of her body. she was more ready with her tongue than Zoe, as I have said, and quicker in her movements. There was nothing stern in her glance on the contrary, she was cheerful and smiling, eager to find any opportunity for talk.
7. So much for the character and physical appearance of the two empresses. I will return to the government. In those days, it seems to me, a peculiar magnificence, and an added prestige, attached itself to the executive power. The majority of the officials underwent a sudden change, as if they were playing parts on a stage and had been [116] promoted to a role more glorious than any they had acted before. Largess was poured out as never in the past. Zoe, in particular, opened the coffers of the imperial treasury.**79 Any trifles hidden away there were distributed by her with generous abandon. These monies had not been contributed voluntarily, but were the fruits of robbery and plunder. In fact, all this squandering, together with the high standard of living, was the beginning of the utter decline in our national affairs and the cause of our subsequent humiliation. But that was clear only to the prophets: only the wise saw what was really happening.
8. The prize-money for the soldiers and the revenues devoted to army expenditure were quite unnecessarily diverted and put aside for the use of other persons -- a crowd of sycophants and those who at that time were deputed to guard the empresses -- as if the emperor Basil had filled the imperial treasuries with wealth for this very purpose.
9. Most men are convinced that the nations around us have made their sudden incursions against our borders, these wild unexpected inroads, for the first time in our day, but I myself hold a different view. I believe the house is doomed when the mortar that binds its bricks together becomes loose, and although the start of the trouble passed unnoticed by the majority, there is no doubt that it developed and gathered strength from that first cause. In fact, the gathering of the clouds in those days presaged the mighty deluge we are suffering today. But I must not speak of that yet.
THE AUGUSTA ZOE DELIBERATES WHOM TO PROMOTE TO THE THRONE
10. In the description of the events that follow I will speak with greater authority and more personal knowledge. The affairs of state urgently demanded vigorous and skilful direction. The country needed a man's supervision -- a man at once strong-handed and very experienced in government, one who not only understood the present situation, but also any mistakes that had been made in the past, with their probable results. We wanted a man who would make provision for the future and prepare long beforehand against all possible attacks or likely invasions from abroad. But the love of power, or the lack of power, the apparent freedom and the absence [117] of supervision and the desire for ever greater power -- these were the things that made the emperor's apartment into a gynaeconitis.
11. Even so, most people had no settled convictions. One rumour after another was bruited abroad, either favourable or otherwise to Zoe (for there were some who thought that Theodora should rightly be empress, on the ground that she had championed the cause of the people; moreover, they said, she had never married; others, again, believed the elder sister was more suited to rule, because she had previous experience of power, and power exercised a peculiar fascination on her). While these rumours were spreading, first one way, then another, among the people, Zoe anticipated their decision and seized all power for herself a second time. The next move was to search for and decide on the man of the most illustrious descent and of the most distinguished fortune, whether he held a seat in the senate or served in the army.
12. Among others who were living at that time was a native of Dalassa (a most celebrated place) whose name was Constantine. He was an extraordinarily handsome man, and it seemed that Nature herself had prepared him for the supreme position in the Empire. Even before his tenth birthday rumour had it that he was destined for the highest honours. It was inevitable, of course, that the emperors should fear such a man, and all of them refused him access to the palace. In fact, Michael the Paphlagonian even committed him to prison, not so much through fear of him personally as for dread of the people acting on his behalf for there was great excitement in the city when he was seen, and the people were so agitated that a revolution seemed imminent. However, Michael shut him up in a castle and he was closely watched. Michael's nephew, who succeeded him, was no sooner seated on the imperial throne than he put an end to the young man's hopes of promotion, by compelling him to enter the Church. Constantine's spiritual welfare meant nothing to the emperor and his admission to a monastery was designed only to prevent him from achieving his secret ambitions. Still, Constantine was too enamoured of life to attempt resistance. Opportunity still held out the prospect of power, and he had an example near at hand where another had changed her profession, for the empress had once suffered the same fate and still had given up her nun's habit. Actually, it was some other business that called him to the palaces but while there he was presented to the empress. At [118] this interview he spoke with more than usual abruptness, expressing rather bold ideas on the subject of the Empire and showing himself ready to compromise on nothing. In fact, he adopted a lofty attitude of condescension. The result was that most people found him rather unpleasant and a somewhat overwhelming person to deal with: they suspected his motives and took care to frustrate him.
13. So once again the votes were cast. In this case, the man was not particularly distinguished in fortune, but blessed with a commanding and dignified presence.**80 He was secretary once to the emperor Romanus, and not only succeeded in impressing the great man with his administrative ability, but also won the approval of Zoe by his charming manners. Indeed, she was even accused of meeting him secretly. Romanus, however, was not a very jealous man and he turned a deaf ear to all such rumours. Michael, on the other hand, expelled him from the palace. Under the pretence or giving him a more important office, he was posted away from the capital. That biased the empress in his favour and after his recall from exile, he cultivated her friendship, deliberately effacing himself in order to please her. By this time everybody, up to a point, was inclined to support his claims, but he was suddenly carried off by an illness, and their hopes were never realized.**81
14. Fate, indeed, decreed that the new master of the Empire should be Constantine, the son of Theodosius.**82 He was the last scion of the ancient family of the Monomachi, in the male line. A long account of him will be given by me later, when I launch out into the description of his reign -- a long account, because he was emperor for more years than any of Basil's successors, and because there was more to relate. Constantine was more active than his predecessors, although it must be admitted that he was not uniformly more successful. Indeed, in some ways he was greatly inferior. There is no reason why I should not be candid about this and tell the true story. Immediately after his accession I entered his service, served throughout his reign, was promoted to the Senate, entrusted with the most honourable duties. Thus there was nothing that I did not know, no overt act, no secret diplomacy. Naturally, therefore, I shall devote more space to him than to the other emperors. [119]
THE MANNER IN WHICH AUGUSTA INTRODUCED THE EMPEROR CONSTANTINE INTO THE PALACE
15. But this is not the time to speak of these things. Our present task is to describe how, and for what reasons, and by what turn of fate, he came to power. Because of his family this man held very high rank in the Empire. He had the additional advantage of great wealth, and his personal appearance was singularly charming. Beyond all doubt he seemed a fit person to marry into the most illustrious families. In the first place he became son-in-law to the most prominent member of court society, but his wife fell ill and died. He was forced into a second alliance. At the time Romanus, the future emperor, was still a private citizen, although high hopes were entertained that he would eventually be promoted and the people treated him with the greatest respect, because of his position. Romanus had conceived a deep affection for Constantine -- a young man in the flower of his manhood and scion of a most noble family -- and he grafted this fine young cutting on his own rich fertile olive. The lady in question was none other than the daughter of his sister Pulcheria, who in the past had been married to Basil Sclerus (he had the misfortune later to be deprived of his sight) and she had become the mother of this one child, a daughter. Alliance with this family conferred on the young man extraordinary brilliance, but he still held no important office. Basil's advisers, because of the hatred they nursed for the father, vented their spite on the son, and Sclerus's revolutionary designs had an unfortunate effect on the emperor's relations with Constantine. That was the reason why neither Basil nor Constantine, his brother, ever promoted him to any responsible post in the government. Actually, they did him no harm, but he was slighted, and they certainly never dreamed that the man had a glorious future.
16. Even the accession of Romanus did little to help Constantine in his career, so mistaken was the new emperor in his estimate of the young man's qualities. However, Romanus did at least keep him at the imperial court, and if for no other reason, he was very much in the public eye through his near relationship with the emperor. His fresh complexion (to the men of our generation he was as unspoiled as spring fruit) and his graceful manners and his conversation, in which he excelled all others, these were the things that won the heart of the [120] empress. She delighted in his company again and again. He for his part made himself thoroughly agreeable to her, and by cleverly adapting himself to please her on all occasions, he captivated her completely. By these arts he obtained favours from her, but at the same time both he and she were assailed with calumny from the court. There were times when their clandestine meetings were not much to the liking of most courtiers.
17. At any rate, these activities made him a likely candidate for promotion to the throne, and Michael, who succeeded Romanus, viewed him with suspicion. In fact, Michael, even after his own accession, remained stubbornly jealous, although not unfriendly at first. Later he trumped up false accusations, suborning witnesses unjustly, and Constantine was driven from the city. His punishment was relegation to a certain determined area, in this case the island of Mitylene, and there for seven years -- the exact length of Michael's reign -- he endured his misfortune. Michael Calaphates, like Paphlagon, inherited the emperors' hatred of the young man.
18. Zoe's first reaction, when for the second time she found herself at the head of the Empire, was, as I have already said, to protect herself against any sudden reversal of fortune in the future. To strengthen her position, she proceeded to look for a husband, not a man from abroad, but someone in the court circle. However, as one had been discredited through misfortune, another rejected because of his ignoble lineage, a third suspected as dangerous, and stories had been invented one after another to bring into disrepute her various suitors, she renounced all of them and again considered the claims of Constantine. She spoke openly on the subject to her personal bodyguard and household staff, and when she saw that they were unanimous in their support of Constantine as the future emperor -- their agreement seemed almost preconcerted -- she informed the senate also of her designs. There too her plan was greeted as an inspiration from God. So Constantine was recalled from his exile, and he set out, still a private citizen and without the paraphernalia of his new dignity.**83
19. When he drew near the city, however, a more sumptuous lodging was prepared for his reception and an imperial tent was pitched for him, surrounded by an imperial guard. In front of the palace there met his eyes a vision of magnificent splendour. People of all ages and conditions poured out in a flood to meet him. There were salutations and addresses of congratulation and good wishes. [121] The city wore all the appearance of a popular festival; perhaps it would be nearer the mark to say that there were two cities, for beside the Queen of Cities there had been hastily erected a second city and the townsfolk had poured out right up to the walls, with markets, and fairs. When all was ready and the preparations for his official entry had been completed, the signal to go forward was given, and with great magnificence Constantine entered the courts of the palace.
20. Since the common laws respecting marriage**84 could hardly be flouted, the patriarch Alexius settled the question of the wedding. He made concessions to expediency -- or shall we say that he bowed to the will of God in the whole affair? Certainly he did not himself lay his hands upon them in blessing at the coronation, but he did embrace them after the marriage ceremony and the act of crowning had been performed.**85 Whether this was done in accordance with priestly tradition, or was a bit of flattery and done to suit the occasion, I do not know.
21. For the empresses, these events marked the end of their authority and personal intervention in the affairs of state; for Constantine, the beginning of his reign. His power was now for the first time established. So, after a joint rule of three months, the sisters retired from public life and the emperor -- but we must not speak of him yet. First I have some brief remarks to make, for the benefit of those who may be interested.
22. Several persons, on more than one occasion, have urged me to write this history. Among them were not only men in authority and leaders in the senate, but also students of theology, who interpret the mysteries of Holy Writ, and men of great sanctity and holiness. Through the passing of time the historical evidence has already proved inadequate for the writing of a proper record. There is a danger that events may be hidden in the remote past, so forgotten that our knowledge of bygone days rests on no sure foundation.
These gentlemen, therefore, asked me to do what I could to remedy those deficiencies: it was not right, they argued, that our own contemporary history should be concealed and utterly obscured, while events that took place before our time were thought worthy of record by succeeding generations. Such was the pressure and such the arguments with which they urged me to take up this task, but for myself I was not particularly enthusiastic for the undertaking. It was not that I was lazy, but I was afraid of two alternatives, either of which [122] could not be disregarded: I might pass over, for reasons which I will explain later, things done by certain individuals, or distort my account of them, and so be convicted not of writing a history, but of mere fabrication, as if I were composing a play. That was one alternative. The other was that I might go to extreme lengths in hunting down the truth, and so become a laughing-stock to the critics. They would think me, not a lover of history, but a scandalmonger.
23. For these reasons I was not very eager to tackle the history of our times, especially as I knew that in many things I would clash with the emperor Constantine, and I would be ashamed of myself if I did not seize every opportunity of commending him. I should be ungrateful and altogether unreasonable if I did not make some return, however small, for his generosity to me, a generosity which showed itself not only in positive acts, but in the indirect ways in which he helped me to better my condition. It would be shameful if I did not prove my gratitude in my writings. It was therefore because of this man that I consistently refused to compose the history. I was most anxious to avoid imputing any blame to him. I did not want to reveal by my words any actions not to his credit and things it is better to keep dark. I was loath to put before the public a dishonest story, yet at the same time I was unwilling to shame the hero of my former eulogy. In my opinion, it was wrong to exercise literary talents, which I had perfected because of his encouragements to do him harm.
24. Philosophers will tell you that the vain and superfluous are of all things on earth the most despicable. For them the object of life is to understand those things that are necessary to their nature. All else is regarded as merely so many external attributes. However that may be, I cannot use such an argument as an excuse for ingratitude, especially to one who honoured me above my deserts and raised me above my fellows. What I would like, therefore, is either to commemorate him in a panegyric or to pass over in silence those actions in his life which did not spring from worthy motives. If, having set out to eulogize his career, I then rejected those deeds which were the fit object of praise and gave the impression that I had lumped together all that was reprehensible, I would be the worst scoundrel on earth, like the son of Lyxes, who selected the worst deeds of the Greeks for his history.**86 [123]
25. on the other hand, suppose I set aside this project for the moment and propose to write a history of the lives of the emperors, how, when I leave unsaid things which belong to the province of history, am I to deal with those which are the proper object of eulogy? lit would look as if I had forgotten my purpose, or was caricaturing the art of history, by failing to distinguish its subjectmatter and by confusing the role of two forms of literature whose aims are incompatible. Actually I had composed many panegyrics in honour of Constantine before I undertook this work, not without commendation from the public. The high praises I lavished on him were not undeserved, but other writers have failed to understand my methods of composition. The truth is, the actions of emperors are a conglomerate patchwork of bad and good, and these other writers find themselves able neither to condemn without reservation nor to commend with sincerity, because they are overmuch impressed by the close conjunction of opposite qualities. In my own case, I do offer criticisrn, but only for form's sake or in dramatic passages where the prose is affected. In the composition of a eulogy, in fact, my subject-matter is not chosen usually with complete indifference to good or bad: the latter I reject, the former I set on one side, afterwards putting it in proper order. So a homogenous pattern is worked out, a tapestry of the finest cloth.
26. Such is the method I have adopted in composing eulogies of Constantine, but now that I have undertaken to write a history, this plan becomes impossible, for I cannot bring myself to distort the facts of history, where truth is of more importance than anything else, in order to escape the reproaches of my contemporaries. They may accuse me of blaming, where in their opinion I should praise, but I prefer to ignore such criticisms. What I am writing now is not an indictment, not a speeds for the prosecution, but a true history. Then again, had I seen other emperors pursuing an uninterrupted, invariable course of noble action, on all occasions displaying an admirable character, whereas the reign of Constantine alone was marked by deeds of the opposite kind, then I would have said nothing about him at all. Yet no one on earth is faultless and we judge a man by the trait which chiefly distinguishes him from everyone else. So why should I feel ashamed to declare openly whatever injustice or indiscretion this emperor, in common with the rest, may have committed? [124]
27. Most men who have set themselves to record the history of the emperors have found it surprising that none of them kept his reputation untarnished in every particular. Some won greater praise for their conduct in early life, others impressed more in their latter years, and while some preferred a life of pleasure, others dabbled in philosophy, only to confound the principles they had elected to follow and end in muddle. For my own part, I find such inconsistency nothing to marvel at; on the contrary, it would be extraordinary if someone were always unalterable. Of course, it is possible that you may discover some ordinary citizen who pursued the same undeviating path throughout life, from the very beginning to the very end (although there cannot be many examples of such consistency), but an emperor, one who inherited from God supreme power, especially if he lived longer than most, would never be able to maintain the highest standards all through his reign. In the case of the ordinary man, his own nature, plus a good start in life, may be sufficient to ensure virtuous conduct, for the simple reason that he is not overmuch troubled by outside affairs, nor do external events have any effect on his private disposition. How different it is with an emperor, whose private life is never, even in its most intimate detail, allowed respite from trouble! Consider how brief are the moments when the sea is calm and peaceful, and how at other times it is swollen, or lashed by waves, as Boreas,**87 or Aparktias,**88 or some other storm-wind disturbs its rest -- a sight I have seen myself many a time. An emperor's life is like that. If he seeks recreation, at once he incurs the displeasure of the critics. If he gives rein to kindly sentiments, he is accused of ignorance, and when he rouses himself to show interest, they blame him for being meddlesome. If he defends himself or takes blunt reprisals, everyone levels abuse at his 'wrath' or his 'quick temper'. And as for trying to do anything in secret -- Athos**89 would be more likely to hide itself from human gaze than an emperor's deeds to escape the notice of his subjects! No wonder then that no sovereign's life has been blameless.
28. Naturally, I would have wished that my favourite emperor had been perfect, even if such a compliment was impossible for all the others, but the events of history do not accommodate themselves to our desires. So,**90 divine soul, forgive me, and if sometimes in describing your reign I speak immoderately, concealing nothing and telling the truth, pardon me for it. Not one of your nobler deeds [125] shall be passed over in silence. They shall all be revealed. Likewise, whatever derives not from the same nobility, that too shall be made manifest in my history. And there we must leave the matter and return to our narrative.
29. At the start of his reign Constantine ruled neither with vigour nor with discretion. Apparently, before his accession, he had imagined that being an emperor was to confer on him undreamed-of happiness, something he had never experienced in his life. He had visions, quite unreasonably, of a sudden and complete reversal of his fortunes, and no sooner had he ascended the throne than he attempted to realize these ambitions. Now two things in particular contribute to the hegemony of the Romans, namely, our system of honours and cur wealth, to which one might add a third: the wise control of the other two, and prudence in their distribution. Unfortunately, Constantine's idea was to exhaust the treasury of its money, so that not a single obol was to be left there, and as for the honours, they were conferred indiscriminately on a multitude of persons who had no right to them, especially on the more vulgar sort who pestered the man, and on those who amused him by their witticisms. It is wellknown, of course, that there is in the political world a proper scale of honours, with an invariable rule governing promotion to a higher office, but Constantine reduced this cursus honorum to mere confusion and abolished all rules of advancement. The doors of the senate were thrown open to nearly all the rascally vagabonds of the market, and the honour was conferred not on two or three, nor on a mere handful, but the whole gang was elevated to the highest offices of state by a single decree, immediately after he became emperor.**9l Inevitably, this provided occasion for rites and solemn ceremonies, with all the city overjoyed at the thought that their new sovereign was a person of such generosity. The new state of affairs seemed incomparably better than that to which they had been accustomed, for the truth is, folk who live in the luxury of a city have little conception of government, and those who do understand such matters neglect their duties, so long as their desires are satisfied.
30. Gradually the error of this policy became apparent, when privileges that in the old days had been much coveted were now distributed with a generous abandon that knew no limits, with the consequence that the recipients lost distinction. At the time, though, most people had not yet realized the implications of all this profusion, [126] and so the squandering and waste went on, all to no purpose. Nevertheless, I know that some later historians will find in this trait of Constantine subject for commendation. My own custom, one that I have always followed, is to examine nothing in itself alone, whether apparently good or reputedly evil, but to search out the causes and probable results of each occurrence as well, particularly where my informants are also interested in such hypothetical arguments. Experience has proved that this systematic treatment is better than my successors may perhaps be prepared to admit.
31. The emperor's first act, therefore, was the result of what I may call youthful folly, but there was another side to his character which I confess met with my approval at the time; in fact, even today I am no less convinced of its nobility. I refer to the man's utter lack of boastfulness and false pride; the fact that no haughty or bombastic words ever fell from his lips; that he bore no malice towards those who had treated him none too kindly in the past and who had offered him little help in his fight for power. Not only were all his former accusers forgiven, but he took especial care to conciliate those who might reasonably expect his vengeance before all others.
32. No man was better endowed by Nature with qualities that endeared him to his subjects. He was a good mixer, winning everyone's affections by an art that was conscious, yet unaffected. In his efforts to charm there was no trace of insincerity, only a genuine desire to cultivate friendship, by deliberated setting out to please.
33. Listening to the emperor's conversation was a real delight. He was always ready to smile and his expression was cheerful, not merely in moments of recreation when a smiling face is normal, but even when he was obviously engaged in serious business. His favourite companions were simple persons, the type that did not stand greatly in awe of himself, and he hated to see anybody approach him with a worried look. He had the lowest opinion of these latter individuals, with their air of superiority, their preoccupation with affairs of national importance, and their anxiety to discuss these matters with himself. They must, he thought, have a mental outlook quite different from his own. Consequently, those who lived with him accommodated their behaviour to please him. If someone had serious business to put before the emperor, he would be careful not to mention it at once, but to begin the conversation with some playful remark, or mix serious and playful together, like a man offering [127] an invalid a purgative, with a dash of something to sweeten its bitter taste.
34. The truth is, Constantine looked upon the palace as a harbour, in which he had taken refuge after much buffeting by the waves in a storm -- the sufferings he had endured as an exile -- and to recompense him for the past, he needed complete rest and absolute tranquility. The man who found favour with him was one with a smooth brow, a man with a tongue always ready to tell a diverting story and to utter the most favourable prophecies about the future.
35. Although he could scarcely be called an advanced student of literature, or, in any sense of the word, an orator, yet he admired men who were, and the finest speakers were invited to the imperial court from all parts of the empire, most of them very old men.
36. At that time I was in my twenty-fifth year and engaged in serious studies. My efforts were concentrated on two objects: to train my tongue by rhetoric, so as to become a fine speaker, and to refine my mind by a course of philosophy. I soon mastered the rhetoric enough to be able to distinguish the central theme of an argument and logically connect it with my main and secondary points. I also learnt not to stand in complete awe of the art, nor to follow its precepts in everything like a child, and I even made certain contributions of a minor character myself. Then I applied myself to the study of philosophy, and having acquainted myself sufficiently with the art of reasoning, both deductive, from cause to immediate effect, and inductive, tracing causes from all manner of effects, I turned to natural science and aspired to a knowledge of the fundamental principles of philosophy through mathematics.
37. If the reader does not find me boring in this and will allow me to go on, I will add to what I have already said concerning my own activities The fact to which I am about to refer will undoubtedly win for me high approval among men of learning, quite apart from all other considerations. And you, who read my history today, will bear witness to the truth of my words. Philosophy, when I first studied it, was moribund as far as its professors were concerned, and I alone revived it, untutored by any masters worthy of mention, and despite my thorough research, finding no germ of philosophy either in Greece or in the barbarian world. I had heard that Greece had a great reputation for philosophy, expressed in simple words and simple propositions, and their work in this field set a standard and [128] criterion for the future. There were some who belittled the simplicity of the Greeks, but I sought to learn more, and as I met some of the experts in the art, I was instructed by them how to pursue my studies in a methodical way. One passed me on to another for tuition, the lesser light to the greater, and he again recommended me to a third, and he to Aristotle and Plato. Doubtless my former teachers were well-satisfied to take second place to these two.
38. Starting from these authors I completed a cycle, so to speak, by coming down to Plotinus,**92 Porphyry,**93 and Iamblichus.**94 Then, continuing my voyage, I put in at the mighty harbour of the admirable Proclus,**95 eagerly picking up there his doctrine of perception, both in its broad principles and in its exact interpretation. From Proclus I intended to proceed to more advanced studies -- metaphysics, with an introduction to pure science, -- so I began with an examination of abstract conceptions in the so-called mathematics, which hold a position midway between the science of corporeal nature, with the external apprehension of these bodies, and the ideas themselves, the object of pure thought. I hoped from this study to apprehend something that was beyond the reach of mind, something that was not subject to the limitations of substance.
39. It was therefore consonant with this plan that I should pay especial attention to systems of number and examine geometrical proofs, which some call 'logical necessities'. Moreover, I devoted time to the study of music and astronomy, as well as to their various subsidiary arts. First I would concentrate on each study by itself, then synthesize my knowledge, in the belief that the several branches of learning would by their individual contributions lead me to one simple goal, according to the teaching of Plato's Epinomis.**96 So, thanks to these sciences, I was able to launch out into the more advanced studies.
40. I had heard it said by the most learned philosophers that there is a wisdom which is beyond all demonstration, apprehensible only by the intellect of a wise man, in moments of inspiration. Even here my resolution did not falter. I read some of the mystic books and grasped their meaning (as far as human nature allowed me, of course for I myself would never claim that I had an accurate understanding of these things, nor would I believe anyone else who said he had). On the other hand, it is by no means beyond our natural capacity to dwell on one science, as a special subject, and for sake of research [129] to make excursions, as it were, into other branches of learning in a general survey, returning later to one's original starting-point.
41. Literature has two branches. One comprises the works of the orators and the philosophers have arrogated the other. The first, knowing nothing of the deeper things, issues forth merely in a mighty torrent of noisy words; it concerns itself with the composition of speeches, sets forth certain rules for the arrangement of arguments on political subjects and for the various divisions of political orations, lends distinction to the spoken word, and in general beautifies the language of politics. Philosophy is less concerned with the embellishments of words. Its aim is rather to explore the nature of the universe, to unravel its secrets. Its lofty dictums are not even confined to the visible world, for with great subtlety it praises the glory of that realm, whatever it be, that lies beyond the heaven. Now I had no mind to follow the example of most other men, and emulate their experiences -- men who study the art of the orator while despising the science of the philosopher, or else engross themselves in philosophy and enjoy the riches to be found in the marvels of thought, but contemn the glories of rhetoric and the skill required to arrange and divide the various parts of a speech. Thus, from time to time, when I compose an oration, I introduce some scientific proof, not without some elegance. Many persons have reproached me for this and they dislike the way I brighten a philosophic discourse with the graceful arts of rhetoric. My purpose in this is to assist the reader when he finds it difficult to absorb some deep thought, and so to prevent him losing the thread of philosophic argument.
42. But there is a new philosophy, based on the mystery of our Christian religion, which transcends the ancient systems. This mystery, too, has a dual aspect, in nature (human and divine), and in time (finite and infinite), not to mention a further dualism when one considers how it is capable of proof, and yet the object of faith and divinely inspired into men's consciousness. It was this philosophy, rather than the profane, which became the object of my special study. In some respects I agreed with the doctrine of the great Fathers of the Church, but I also made some contribution to the body of divine teaching on my own account. I say this in all sincerity and without boastfulness: if any man should feel constrained to praise my literary works, I would beg him not to commend my researches in the field of religion, not to extol my extensive reading (I am not
[130] deluded by a false impression of my own importance, nor am I ignorant of my own limitations: my capacity is very small when compared with the ability of the orators and philosophers who have surpassed me). No, if anyone praises my efforts, let it be rather because I drew my small measure of wisdom from no living fount: the sources I discovered were choked up, and I had to open and cleanse them myself. Their waters, too, were hidden in the depths and only brought to the surface after I had expended much energy.
43. Today, in fact, neither Athens, nor Nicomedeia, nor Alexandria in Egypt, nor Phoenicia, nor even the two Romes (the ancient and lesser Rome, and the later, more powerful city), nor any other state, glories any longer in literary achievements The golden streams of the past, and baser silver, and streams of metal more worthless still, all are blocked and choked up: their damming is complete. So, since I was unable to reach the living sources themselves, I perforce studied their images. These second-hand imitations I greedily devoured in my mind, and having collected the knowledge, I grudged no one else a share in what I had myself acquired at the cost of much labour. Everybody was welcome to learn from me, and far from demanding a fee for my lessons, I was even prepared to help keen students with money from my own purse. But that story must wait until later.
44. In my career, even before the fruit was ripe, the blossom gave promise of a brilliant future. Certainly the emperor did not know me as yet, but I was well-known to all his bodyguard and they spoke of me in his presence, some recounting one quality, and others stressing another. They told him, moreover, that I was an eloquent orator. I would like to say something on this subject here. At the time of our birth, we are endowed with certain natural virtues, or their opposites. When I use the word 'virtue' in this connection, I am not referring to moral virtue, nor to political virtue, nor to the virtue which surpasses these others and attains to the pattern or perfection of the Creator; but just as some bodies, from the moment of birth, are endowed with beauty, while on others nature from their very beginning bestows blemishes and wrinkles, so with souls, too, some are distinguished at once with extreme grace and attractiveness, while others leave a trail of sombre and deep gloom. As time goes on, the innate graces of the first sort become more and more apparent, but in the second everything goes wrong and even the reason functions poorly. [131]
45. However that may be, even in simple utterances I have been told that my language is peculiarly graceful, and though I do not strive after effect, there is in my words a certain natural beauty. Of course, I would not know this myself, had not many folk told me so in the course of conversation and had they not listened with rapt attention while I talked with them. Anyhow, it was this characteristic that first won me access to the emperor, and it was the eloquence of my tongue that, so to speak, proved to be my fore-runner, giving him a foretaste of the spirit deep-hidden within me.
46. At that first interview, my words were distinguished neither by their fluency nor by their elegance, but I told him about my family and the sort of education I had received in literature. As for Constantine, he was affected by a strange feeling of pleasure, as inexplicable as the divinely-inspired utterance of men in a trance. So influenced was he at the first sound of my voice that he almost embraced me. Other men had the right of access to him at set times and for a limited period, but to me his heart's doors were now thrown wide open, and gradually, as I became more intimate with him, he shared with me all his secrets. Please do not blame me if I have wandered somewhat from the main theme of my history, and please do not imagine that this digression is mere self-advertisement. If I have indulged in a certain amount of personal reminiscence, at least it is all directly concerned with the main thread of the story. Without disclosing the reason for it, it would have been impossible for me to speak of that first interview; and, of course, if I wished to explain the reason, it was essential to introduce some remarks on my own career. My history must be written in a methodical way: first the reference to my source, then the sifting of evidence, and finally the account of subsequent events. That is why so long a preface was necessary. Now that I have introduced myself with such a wealth of detail into this part of the history, I can assure you that my evidence will avoid all falsehood; whatever is not said, will remain hidden, but none of the things I am going to say will be of doubtful veracity.
47. Constantine had no very clear conception of the nature of monarchy. He failed to realize that it entailed responsibility for the well-being of his subjects, and that an emperor must always watch over the administration of his realm and ensure its development on sound lines. To Constantine the exercise of power meant rest from [132] his labours, fulfilment of desire, relaxation from strife. He had entered the harbour of the palace, so to speak, to enjoy the advantages of a calm retreat and to avoid the duties of helmsman in the future. As for the administration of public affairs, and the privilege of dispensing justice, and the superintendence of the armed forces, they were delegated to others. Only a fraction of these duties was reserved for himself. Instead, he chose a life of pleasure and luxury, as if it were his natural right (not without some justification, for he had inherited an innate predilection for such things). Now, having acquired supreme power, he had greater opportunity for pleasure, and he indulged himself more than ever.
48. A healthy animal, with a thoroughly strong constitution, is not altered in a moment at the first symptoms of illness. So with the empire in the reign of Constantine: it was by no means moribund and its breathing was still energetic; the neglect from which it was suffering seemed an insignificant item, until, by slow degrees, the malady grew, and reaching a crisis, threw the patient into utter confusion, complete disorder. This later stage, however, had not yet been approached, and the emperor, taking little share in the anxieties of power, but seeking recreation in a multitude of pleasures, was preparing the then healthy body of his empire for a thousand maladies destined to attack it in the future.
49. What contributed in no moderate fashion to such immoderation, was the weak character of the two empresses, and Constantine's willing acquiescence in their luxurious, laughter-loving habits. Participation in these revels he regarded as a service to them; and far from wishing in any way to oppose their desires, he took care to provide them with every amusement. When a certain trouble did arises he would soon have clashed with them, had his wife not agreed with his point of view. Whether she merely concealed her jealousy on this occasion, or had become devoid of it because of her age, I know not.
DESCRIBING HOW AND BY WHAT MEANS THE AUGUSTA
SCLERENA**97 WAS BROUGHT TO THE CAPITAL50. It all came about in the following way. Constantine's**98 second wife, a member of the famous Sclerus family, died, and since he was at that time an ordinary citizen, he was prevented from marrying a
[133] third time, on conscientious grounds (by Roman law such marriages were illegal). But he substituted for marriage a less reputable condition -- a secret affaire. It was actually the niece of his late wife, a beautiful and, normally, a discreet woman, whom he induced to share in this singularly improper associations. He may have bribed her; possibly he charmed her with words of love; or he may have used other methods of persuasion to achieve his purpose.
51. Whatever the reason, they were so much in love with each other that both found separation intolerable, even when they were threatened with misery, for when Constantine went into exile (as I have remarked in a previous chapter), this woman still remained at his side. With loving care she tended his wants, put at his disposal all her possessions, gave him all manner of comfort, and lightened the bitter load of his affliction. The truth is, she, no less than himself, was sustained by hopes of power; nothing else mattered, if only in the future she might share the throne with her husband. I say 'husband' because at that time she was convinced that their marriage would be legally sanctioned, and all their desires fulfilled, when Constantine, as emperor, overruled the laws. When one of these ambitions was realized (his elevation to the throne), but circumstances did not permit the realization of the second, because the empress Zoe seized all power for herself, she despaired altogether, not only of her cherished hopes, but even of life itself. The empress filled her with dread, and she anticipated grievous retribution.
52. Nevertheless, the emperor did not forget his beloved, even after his accession. With his physical eyes he beheld Zoe, but in his mind's eye was the image of his mistress; while he folded the empress in his arms, it was the other woman whom he clasped in the imagination of his heart. Regardless of the consequences, regardless of Zoe's jealousy, turning a deaf ear to all entreaty, he brushed aside every counsel that would frustrate his wishes. Prominent among those who differed with him was his own sister Pulcheria, one of the cleverest women of our generation. She gave him excellent advice but in vain, for he despised all opposition, and at his very first meeting with the empress spoke to her of this woman. He referred to her, not as a wife, nor as a prospective mistress, but as one who had suffered much at the hands of the imperial family. Moreover, she had endured, he said, much for his own sake, and he begged Zoe to recall her from exile and grant her reasonable privileges.
53. The empress at once gave her consent. The fact is, Zoe was no longer given to jealousy. She had had her own fill of trouble, and in any case, she was now too old to harbour such resentment. Meanwhile the emperor's beloved was expecting the worst, when suddenly there arrived messengers with an imperial bodyguard, summoning her back to Byzantium. They gave her letters, one from the emperor, the other from Zoe herself, promising a friendly reception and encouraging her to return. Such were the circumstances in which she arrived at the Queen of Cities.
54. At first it was considered proper that she should live in a modest house, with a bodyguard of no particular distinction. However, in order that he might have an excuse for going there often, Constantine treated it as a private residence of his own. Then, to give it an imposing appearance and make it a place fit to receive an emperor, he laid down new foundations for an annexe, with grand projects for the future.
55. He always had a pretext tor these visits -- that he was supervising some detail of the building -- and several times a month he would go there, nominally to watch the progress of the work, but in reality to be with his mistress. He used to be accompanied by certain individuals of Zoe's faction, and last they should busy themselves too much with his private affairs, he would see that a table loaded with delicacies was ready for them outside the house. They were invited to join in the banquet. The menu was chosen by themselves beforehand, and all their demands were satisfied. They were well aware of the real cause of these arrangements, but for all their indignation at the way he treated their empress, it could not outweigh the pleasure they felt in the fulfilment of their own desires. Thus, if they knew Constantine was debating whether to visit his lady-love, but hesitating to set out and actually ashamed to go (and he usually was), they smoothed the path for him, each suggesting a different pretext. It was a singularly effective way of winning his favour.
56. At first, Constantine kept his affaire with this woman a secret, by visiting her in the way I have described, and he was still careful to avoid an open scandal. But gradually he lost all sense of impropriety and his real plans were revealed. All presence of the lady's 'apartment' in his house was abandoned. From now on, he accompanied her quite openly, as often as he wished, and lived with her. If I may sum up the whole story before I continue, the liaison had [135] a strange air of unreality about it. Whether one saw what was going on with one's own eyes or merely heard of it from others, it was hard to believe, for Constantine no longer visited the woman as a mistress, but as if she were in truth his wife.
57. He wasted the imperial treasures in satisfying her every whim. For example, he found in the palace a bronze casket, ornamented with figures carved in relief, and having filled it with money, sent it as a gift to her. Nor was this an occasional present, for there was a constant stream of such offerings to his beloved.
HOW THE AUGUSTA WAS INTRODUCED INTO THE PALACE
58. So far, however, the love-affair was carried on in semi-secrecy. Yet efforts at concealment proved less and less effective as time went on, and eventually the emperor admitted publicly that he loved her. There followed an interview with Zoe, at which he suggested very plausibly that she should consent to live with his mistress. Even when Zoe agreed he was still not satisfied. A treaty of friendship was set out in a document and an imperial pavilion built for the ceremony of ratification. In front sat Constantine, Zoe, and Sclerena, while the Senate filed in to witness this extraordinary contract, blushing and for the most part talking in undertones. Despite their embarrassment, the senators still praised the agreement as if it were a document sent down from heaven. They called it a 'loving-cup', and lavished on it all the other flattering epithets that deceive and cajole a frivolous and empty-headed person.
59. The contract being signed and the oaths administered, she who had hitherto been only a lover, was now introduced to the private apartments of the imperial palace, no longer called 'mistress', but 'My Lady' and 'Empress', officially. What was most astounding was the fact that, although most people were greatly distressed at the way in which Zoe had been deceived and neglected and despised, she herself evinced no emotion whatever, except that she smiled on everyone and apparently was quite pleased with the arrangement. At all events, she embraced her new partner with unusual warmth, and both of them accompanied the emperor. Both, too, discussed with him the same problems. Constantine weighed the judgment of each woman with equal impartiality, although it must be admitted [136] that occasionally he allowed himself to be more readily influenced by his junior consort.
60. In appearance Sclerena was not specially remarkable. On the other hand, she was certainly no easy target for insult or raillery. As for her character and intellectual ability, she could charm a heart of stone, and she was extraordinarily adept in her interpretation of any matter whatever. Her speech was wonderful. It had a delicate beauty of expression, the rhythmic perfection of a scholar. There was in her conversation an unaffected sweetness of diction, an inexpressible grace in her manner of telling a story. She bewitched me, at any rate, when, as often happened, she would ply me with questions about the Greek myths and add a point here and there herself which she had learnt from some expert on the subject. No woman ever had a more sensitive ear, although I imagine this was not a natural accomplishment, but acquired because she knew that everyone was talking about her. She could hear a soft whisper quite clearly, and a word muttered under the breath was readily understood by her.
61. I will give an example of this. One day, when we, the imperial secretaries, were all together, the empress's retinue were taking part in a procession. Zoe herself and her sister Theodora walked in this procession, followed by the Augusta (a new title granted to her by the empresses, at the instigation of Constantine). As they were on their way -- the route led them to the Theatre and this was the first time the ordinary people had seen Sclerena in company with Zoe and Theodora -- one of the subtle flatterers softly quoted Homer's**99 'It were no shame. . .' but did not complete the lines. At the time Sclerena gave no sign of having heard these words, but when the ceremony was over, she sought out the man who had uttered them and asked him what they meant. She repeated his remark without a single mistake, pronouncing the words exactly as he had whispered them. As soon as he told her the story in detail, and the crowd showed its approval of his interpretation of the anecdote, as well as of the quotation itself, she was filled with pride and her flatterer was rewarded for his compliment. The presents she gave him were not a few, nor were they paltry trifles, but such as she was used to receiving and giving in her own circle. As a matter of fact, the emperor had given her a private fund for presents to individuals of either sex, in order to win the sympathies of the court, and especially of the two empresses.
[137] 62. Now the elder of the two sisters (Zoe) had a passion for gold -- not for the sake of mere possession or hoarding of it, but so that she could satisfy her instinct for generosity . She was also fond of sweet herbs, the purest Indian kind, especially of those that still retained their natural moisture, dwarf olives and the whitest sort of bays. The younger sister (Theodora) daily gloated over her collection of darics, for which she had had bronze coffers made. Knowing their hobbies, therefore, the Augusta won the gratitude of them both by giving the presents they liked best. It was no difficult matter, for Zoe no longer felt jealous of her rival (she was past the age for that) and there was no ill-will on her side. As the years passed, too, she had lost her capacity for vehement hatred. And, as for Theodora, since her own desires were satisfied, she showed even less resentment than her sister.
63. Thus the wealth which the emperor Basil had accumulated in the imperial treasury, at the cost of much sweat and labour, became the plaything of these women, to be expended on their pleasures. Presents were exchanged or given as rewards one after another. Some of the money was even paid out to strangers, and soon all was spent and exhausted. However, that is a subject which I must deal with later. I must finish the present story. When Constantine and the women had decided which apartments each was to occupy in the palace, the emperor had the room in the centre, with the sisters on either side of him, but it was Sclerena who had the most private apartment. And Zoe never visited the emperor's room, unless she had first made sure that he was alone and his lady-love far away. Otherwise, she occupied herself with her own affairs. I must now explain what these activities were.
64. The tasks that women normally perform had no appeal whatever for Zoe. Her hands never busied themselves with a distaff nor did she ever work at a loom or any other feminine occupation. Still more surprising, she affected scorn for the beautiful dresses of her rank, though I cannot tell whether she was so negligent in the prime of life. Certainly in her old age she lost all desire to charm. Her one and only concern at this time, the thing on which she spent all her energy, was the development of new species of perfumes, or the preparation of unguents. Some she would invent, others she improved. Her own private bedroom was no more impressive than the workshops in the market where the artisans and the blacksmiths toil, [138] for all round the room were burning braziers, a host of them. Each of her servants had a particular task to perform: one was allotted the duty of bottling the perfumes, another of mixing them, while a third had some other task of the same kind. In winter, of course, these operations were demonstrably of some benefit, as the great heat from the fires served to warm the cold air, but in the summer-time the others found the temperature near the braziers almost unbearable. Zoe herself, however, surrounded by a whole bodyguard of these fires, was apparently unaffected by the scorching heat. In fact, both she and her sister seemed naturally perverse. They despised fresh air, fine houses, meadows, gardens; the charm of all such things meant nothing to them . on the other hand, once they were inside their own private rooms, one sealing off the flow of the golden stream, the other cleaning out the channels to make it flow faster, then they really enjoyed themselves.
65. With regard to Zoe's other peculiarities -- I must speak of her at rather greater length, while the emperor is still taking his ease with his Augusta -- there is not much that I can commend, but one trait never fails to excite my admiration, her piety. In this she surpassed all others, both women and men. Some men lose themselves in the contemplation of God; their whole being is directed to one perfect object, and on that object they depend entirely. Others, with still greater devotion, and truly inspired with the Divine Spirit are even more identified with the object of their worship. So it was with Zoe. Her passionate veneration for the things of God had really brought her into contact, so to speak, with the First and Purest Light. Certainly there was no moment when the Name of God was not on her lips.
CONCERNING THE ANTIPHONETUS
66. I will give an example of this piety of hers. She had made for herself an image of Jesus, fashioning it with as much accuracy as she could {if such a thing were possible). The little figure, embellished with bright metal, appeared to be almost living. By changes of colour, it answered questions put to it, and by its various tints foretold coming events. Anyway, Zoe made several prophecies with regard to the future from a study of this image. So, when she had met with some good fortune, or when some trouble had befallen her, she would at once consult her image, in the one case to acknowledge [139] her gratitude, in the other to beg its favour. I myself have often seen her, in moments of great distress, clasp the sacred object in her hands, contemplate it, talk to it as though it were indeed alive, and address it with one sweet term of endearment after another. Then at other times I have seen her lying on the ground, her tears bathing the earth, while she beat her breasts over and over again, tearing at them with her hands. If she saw the image turn pale, she would go away crestfallen, but if it took on a fiery red colour, its halo lustrous with a beautiful radiant light, she would lose no time in telling the emperor and prophesying what the future was to bring forth.
67. From my reading of Greek literature, I know that perfumes give off a vapour which drives away evil spirits and which at the same time invokes the spirits of the just, attracting them by its very nature. The same property is found in other substances: precious stones and certain herbs and magic ceremonies have the power of invoking deities. The theories of that sort expounded in Greek books made no impression on me when I first read them, and far from believing in magic rites, I rejected them with scorn. Zoe's religious ceremonies, however, for all their attention to detail, were not conducted after the Greek, or any other, style. She worshipped God in her own way, making no secret of her heart's deep longing and consecrating to Him the things which we regard as most precious and most sacred.
68. Having reached this point in our account of the empress, let us return once more to the Augusta and Constantine. Perhaps it may be the reader's wish that we rouse them from their slumbers, and separate them. The emperor we will keep for a later description, but Sclerena's life-history we will finish now.
CONCERNING THE AUGUSTA'S DEATH
69. It is possible that the emperor intended to found an empire for her in the future -- at least there was much talk of it. How it was to be done I do not know, but he certainly cherished ambitions in that direction. Whatever his plans, they were cut short, together with her hopes, by a sudden illness which resisted all the skill and attention of the doctors. Sclerena was afflicted with chest pains and suffered terribly from asthma. Despite all their efforts to cure her, she made no progress and death carried her off before her desires could be [140] brought to fruition -- she who till then had imagined for herself such a glorious future.**l00
70. It should be superfluous to interrupt the main thread of my history at this point, by dilating on the tremendous effect her death produced on the emperor, his lamentations, and the way he behaved. It would be of no real value to describe how, overcome by his sorrow, he expressed the grief he felt like a child. It is no part of the historian's duty to give a minute account of all that is said or done, nor is he required to write on what are comparative trifles. Where details are of little consequence, they belong to the province of the critic; where they give occasion for praise, it is the panegyrist who must use them. If I have a few times made use of details myself --the sort which I am advising historians to shun -- that need cause no surprise, for the province of history has no positive, clearlydefined, boundaries. There may be places where it is even right to indulge in digression or parenthesis. For all that, the historian should waste no time in returning to his narrative. The important thing is to concentrate on the subject, and treat everything else with reserve.
71. So I think I am justified in passing over the details in this case, and as for the chief thing that resulted from his mourning -- the tomb which he built to commemorate her -- I will not refer to that yet. It shall be dealt with in the proper place, after I have first given an account of all the matters that preceded her death. The fact is, in touching on the matter of Sclerena and in priding myself that her story had been told in its entirety, I have omitted many remarkable things that happened before she died. The reason why I did this was to avoid the necessity of referring to her on separate occasions and so breaking up the continuous narrative. Anyhow, as far as she is concerned, the story ends at the moment when she departed this life. We will return once more to the emperor, the hero of this part of my history.
72. More than once already I have remarked that Constantine was like a man who had fought the waves in a great storm, and then put in to a shore where all was peace, the calm waters of an imperial harbour, and he had no intention of sailing the high seas a second time. In other words, he wanted to rule his empire in peace, and not fight any wars, exactly like most of the emperors before him. Unfortunately, affairs do not usually follow the course we would prefer. A stronger power, beyond our control, presides over human destiny
[141] and guides it according to His plans. Sometimes the path is smooth, often strangely rough. So with Constantine, affairs did not go as he had hoped. Waves of trouble, one after another, descended upon him. At one time the empire was gravely perturbed by civil wars, at another by the incursions of barbaric tribes, who plundered most of our provinces and returned to their own countries laden with useful articles of all kinds and with booty to their hearts' content.
73. It would require much time and many words to describe in detail all these things in order as they occurred, to give an accurate account of the causes and results of every single event, to tell of the armies and camps, the skirmishes and battles, and all the other minutiae in which the careful historian is accustomed to indulge. For the moment I must defer such a plan, for it was your express desire, my dearest friend,**101 that I should produce a history which was more a summary than an elaborate treatise. To meet your wishes I have passed over in this work many facts worthy of mention. The years have not been numbered by Olympiads nor divided into seasons (as Thucydides divided his), but I have simply drawn attention to the most important facts and all the things which I have been able to recollect as I was writing this book. As I say, I am not making any attempt, at the moment, to investigate the special circumstances of each event. My object is rather to pursue a middle course between those who recorded the imperial acts of ancient Rome on the one hand, and our own modern chroniclers on the other. I have neither aspired to the diffuseness of the former, nor sought to imitate the extreme brevity of the latter, for fear lest my own composition should be over-burdened, or else omit what was essential.
74. I will say no more on that subject now. To return to Constantine: I will describe the events of his reign in chronological order, beginning with the very first war in which he was engaged as emperor. But first I will go back a little further still, putting the head, as it were, on the body that I am creating. 'Goodness', say the epigrammatists, 'is scarce'.**102 True enough, but even the few are not immune from the creeping paralysis of envy. It is universally true that wherever the fine bloom of natural fertility, or of stoutheartedness and courage, or of any other good quality, wherever such a bloom appears, there straightway stands the pruner ready with his knife, and that part of the plant is cut off. But the shoots that run to wood [142] and produce no flowers at all, these are encouraged to spread, while the thorns grow apace. It is not surprising that those who are less endowed with admirable qualities should normally envy persons of outstanding character, but I do regard it as strange that emperors also are not exempt from this failing. It is not enough, forsooth, that they should have their diadems and their purple, for unless they are wiser than the wise, cleverer than the experts -- in short, if they are not placed on the highest summit of all the virtues -- they consider themselves grievously maltreated. Either they must rule over us like gods or they refuse to govern at all. I have seen some of them myself, who would have died, with the greatest of pleasure, rather than accept help from certain individuals, rather than owe their position of power to any assistance these persons might render them. Just when they should have rejoiced that God had raised up for them a helping hand, they chose rather to cut it off, simply because of the quarter from which that help was coming.
75. I have written this long preface with an eye on one who flourished in our time, a man who proved the worth of good generalship, who, no less by his boldness as a soldier than by his great skill, thwarted the hostile expeditions of the barbarians, and who assured for the Romans a liberty that was freed from danger.**103
THE REVOLT OF MANlACES
76. This George Maniaces did not rise to the rank of army-commander from the baggage-men all at once. It was not a case of blowing a trumpet and acting as herald one day and the next being entrusted with the leadership of a legion. Actually his progress was gradual, and he held successive ranks until he attained the highest position open to a soldier. No sooner did he win some success, however, than he was again thrown into prison, even in the hour of his triumph. He returned to the emperors a conqueror, and for a home he was given -- the public gaol! He was sent forth as general, with supreme command over all the armed forces, with a staff of senior officers to help him. They were young men and they urged him to take a road he should never have traversed -- but here things will go wrong both for him and for us. Edessa was captured and he was accused; he was sent to conquer Sicily, and then, to prevent him winning that honor, he was recalled once more, in disgrace.
[143] 77. I have seen this man myself, and I wondered at him, for nature had bestowed on him all the attributes of a man destined to command. He stood ten feet high and men who saw him had to look up as if at a hill or the summit of a mountain. T here was nothing soft or agreeable abort the appearance of Maniaces. As a matter of fact, he was more like a fiery whirlwind, with a voice of thunder and hands strong enough to make walls totter and shake gates of brass. He had the quick movement of a lion and the scowl on his face was terrible to behold. Everything else about the man was in harmony with these traits and just what you would expect. Rumour exaggerated his appearance and the barbarians, to a man, lived in dread of him, some because they had seen and marvelled, others because they had heard frightful tales of his prowess.
78. When we were despoiled of Italy and the noblest part of our empire was lost, the second Michael sent this man to make war on the enemy who had seized it. He was ordered to recover this province for the Romans. When I speak of Italy here, I am referring not to the whole coast-line, but only to that part which lies opposite us and has appropriated the name of the whole peninsula. Maniaces descended on those districts in full force. No military stratagem was left untried, and it was clear that he would drive out the conquerors and check their inroads -- if all else failed, then he would do it with his own hands.
79. Now when Michael was forced to abdicate and the present emperor succeeded him, the latter should have lost no time in loading Maniaces with honours; he should have dispatched all manner of letters to recommend him, decorated him with ten thousand crowns, done anything in the world to win his favour. Instead, the emperor affected utter contempt for such things, and thereby sowed the seeds of distrust in Maniaces and laid the foundations of trouble destined to fall on the empire long afterwards. When he did, eventually, notice the man, although Maniaces's **104 evil intentions were by then recognized and he was known to be contemplating revolt, even then Constantine failed to handle the affair with diplomacy. Instead of pretending to be ignorant of what, even at that stage, was still only a project, he burst out in anger against his general as if he had already raised the standard of rebellion.
80. The envoys he sent out to him were intended neither to flatter, nor simply to smooth out his troubles and bring him back to the [144] path of virtue. Their task, to put it bluntly, was to kill him, or, not so drastic to chide him persistently with his unfriendly attitude to the emperor. They could do anything short of flogging him, casting him into prison, and driving him out of the city. The leader of these ambassadors, moreover, was not a man who had proved his worth in missions of this kind before; he had not even had previous experience, over any considerable period, in civil or military affairs. He was, in fact, a parvenu off the streets who had wormed his way into the palace.**105
81. By the time he had sailed to Maniaces, the latter had already decided on open revolt, and he was now in command of an army and awaiting his arrival with suspicion. The envoy gave him no definite assurance, before he actually arrived, that his errand was a peaceful one. Indeed, he gave no previous intimation of his arrival at all. Instead, he suddenly rode up to him on horseback, as if he were about to attack him, and without one word of appeasement without any introduction, such as would put his conversation with the man on a proper footing, he promptly struck out at him with violent abuse, in a haughty manner, and threatened him with the most dreadful punishment. Maniaces, now quite convinced that his distrust was excusable, and nervous too of other secret intentions of which he knew nothing, flared up into a rage and lifted his hand against the ambassador, not intending to strike, but only to scare him. The other, as if from that moment he had caught him in the very act of rebellion, called the bystanders to witness his audacity. He added that Maniaces would not escape the consequences, for it was a serious matter to be caught in such an act. Naturally Maniaces, and his army with him, was impressed by the desperate position. With one accord they fell upon the envoy and killed him. Believing that the emperor would, in any case, refuse to negotiate, they there and then broke into open revolt.
82. It was not surprising that multitudes flocked to join a man so brave and such a master of strategy as Maniaces, not only men of military age, but youths and old men. He knew that victories are not won by mere numbers, but by skill and experience, and so he picked out for his army those who had the most practical acquaintance with war, men with whom he had sacked many cities and gained possession of much treasure and many prisoners. Then with his army he crossed over to the opposite mainland, after avoiding [145] the attention of all the coastguards. None of his adversaries dared to attack him; without exception, they retired to a safe distance, so terrified were they.
83. Meanwhile the emperor, having heard of the envoy's assassination and of Maniaces's foolish conduct, levied an enormous army to fight him. Then came the problem who was to command this force. Constantine was afraid that the defeat of the enemy might be the signal for another revolt: his own general might turn against himself, the very person who had put him in command, and a second pretender might well prove more dangerous than the first, with a considerable army already mobilized and fresh laurels of victory. The man appointed, therefore, was not a distinguished soldier, but he was a loyal servant of the emperor, a eunuch in fact, and a person who inspired no respect whatever in his troops.**106 Setting out from the capital, this man advanced on the rebel army with his huge force. Information reached Maniaces that the whole Roman army was on the march, but the news did not alarm him. Neither the enemy's superior numbers nor their strategic change of position could divert him from his plan. His object was to catch his opponents off their guard, and before they expected him, he launched an attack with his light-armed troops.
84. The imperial forces were slow in drawing up their line of battle, and once they were in position, they were much more concerned to watch Maniaces himself than take part in actual fighting, although rnost of them never had a chance of seeing him, because he moved too fast. Thundering out words of command, riding up and down his ranks, he struck terror at once into the hearts of everyone who saw him, and his proud bearing overwhelmed our vast numbers from the very start. Nevertheless he met his downfall. It was one of those acts of God, the reasons for which are beyond our ken. He was circling round our legions, spreading confusion everywhere: he had only to attack, and the serried ranks gave way, the solid wall of troops withdrew. Indeed, our whole army was being broken up into groups and destroyed. Then, suddenly, he was hit in the right side. It was not a superficial wound, and the blood flowed freely at once from the deep gash. Apparently he was unaware of the blow at first, but when he saw the trickle of blood, he tried to staunch it with his hand. He realized he had been mortally wounded and in sheer desperation tried to regain his own lines. He did, in fact, get some [146] little way from our army, but as he was now unable to turn his horse's head -- his body had lost all strength and he was fainting--he gave a gentle moan, a last gesture, dropped his reins and slid out of his saddle to the ground, a pitiable sight.
85. Even when our men saw him lying there, they did not recover their bravery. They still reined in their chargers, for fear lest the enemy were planning an ambush. However, as Maniaces's attendant squire was some distance away and his horse, free to roam now cantered up and down the space between the two armies, all of them, in one great mob, rushed up to the body. The sight that met their eyes was astounding, so great was the area of ground covered by that sprawling corpse. The head they cut off and brought it back to their own general, whereupon a host of men claimed to have killed him. Descriptions of the murder were supplied as invention or imagination dictated, but since it was impossible to demonstrate the truth of these stories, they invented another, to the effect that certain unknown horsemen had fallen upon him and cut off his head. Many such accounts were fabricated, without any convincing evidence. On the other hand, they did claim, frorn the fact that he was wounded in the side, that the weapon must have been a lance. Yet the man who inflicted the wound was still unknown, right up to the day when I wrote this history.
86. That, at all events, was the manner of his death. Maniaces had undoubtedly suffered injustice during his life, although one cannot commend all that he did. As for his army, some got away to their native countries without attracting the enemy's attention, but the majority deserted. The emperor was presented with the rebel's head before his army actually returned to the capital, and he had it impaled at the top of the Great Theatre, suspended in mid-air for all men to see, even at a distance. Then, with the air of a man who has been delivered from some wave that was about to overwhelm him, like a man who had won some respite from danger, he gave thanks to God.
87. When the army came back, most of the soldiers were decorated with crowns, in honour of the victory. They were now encamped near the walls, in front of the city, and Constantine decided that he must celebrate their success with a triumph. He had a genius for organizing shows on the grand scale. The procession, worthy of its author, was arranged as follows: -- the light-armed troops were ordered to lead, armed with shields, bows, and spears, but with [147] ranks broken, in one conglomerate multitude; behind them were to come the picked knights, in full defensive armour, men who inspired fear, not only because of their forbidding appearance, but by their fine military bearing. Next came the rebel army, not marching in ranks, nor in fine uniforms, but seated on asses, faces to the rear, their heads shaven and their necks covered with heaps of shameful refuse. Then followed the pretender's head, borne in triumph a second time,**107 and immediately after it some of his personal belongings; next came certain men armed with swords, men carrying rods, men brandishing in their right hands the rhomphaea -- a great host of men preceding the army commander -- and, in the rear of them all, the general himself on a magnificent charger, dressed in magnificent robes and accompanied by the whole of the Imperial Guard.
88. Such was the order of march. The emperor, meanwhile was seated, very distinguished and proud, in front of the so-called Chalke Phylake, in the actual precinct of the sacred church**108 built by John, the great emperor who succeeded Nicephorus Phocas. Seated with him, on his left and right, were the empresses, also watching the triumph. When the procession, as I have described it, was finished, he returned to the palace wearing his crown, the object of extraordinary tributes. It was characteristic of the man that he should celebrate his victory with his one glorious triumph and then return to his usual moderate habits.
89. This part of the emperor's life was indeed brilliant, and yet, despite all the hero-worship, he never exulted in his victories nor made vainglorious speeches. He got a natural pleasure when he triumphed, but he still kept his head. It was normal for him to live moderately. Nevertheless, he was lacking in circumspection: like a man who needs rest after great exertions, he was in the habit of easing off -- a custom which involved him in wave after wave of misfortune.
THE RUSSIAN UPHEAVAL AND THE REVOLT OF TORNICIUS
90. Indeed, this lack of vigilance was the cause of the war against the barbarians, the war which followed the crushing of Maniaces's revolt.**l09 Russian vessels, almost too numerous to count, either slipping past the intercepting squadrons that had long kept them at bay, [148] or forcing their way in, occupied the Propontis. It was like a mighty cloud that came up from the sea and enveloped the city in darkness. At this stage of my history I would like to explain the reasons for this naval expedition on the part of the Russians, quite unprovoked by the emperor.
91. This barbarian nation had consistently cherished an insane hatred for the Roman Empire, and on every possible occasion, first on one imaginary pretext, then on another, they waged war against us. After the emperor Basil had died (he was a real terror to the Russians) and after his brother Constantine, his successor, had fulfilled the allotted span of his life too (an event that marked the end of a noble dynasty), they once more revived their ancient antagonism and little by little trained themselves for future struggles. Some traces of glory and distinction in Romanus's reign impressed them -- their preparations were in any case still incomplete -- but when he died soon after his accession, and when power fell into the hands of some obscure person called Michael, they proceeded to mobilize all their forces. Recognizing the necessity of a sea-borne invasion, if any attack was to be launched against us, they cut down trees in the interior and made boats large and small. Step by step their preparations were made in secret until they were reader for war. A great fleet was, in fact, on the point of sailing against Michael, but while they were making the final adjustments and war hung in the balance this emperor, too, died before the assault was begun. His successor, without making any notable contribution to national affairs, also departed this life, and the Empire passed into the safe keeping of Constantine. There was no complaint, as far as he was concerned, that the barbarians could make to justify the war, but lest their efforts should seem to be wasted, they attacked him fiercely without provocation.**1l0 Such was the cause then -- the unjustifiable cause -- of their assault on the ernperor.
92. Having escaped detection, they had already got inside the Propontis when they made their first proposals for peace, conditional on the payment of an enormous sum for reparations. They mentioned the actual amount, a thousand staters for each ship,**111 on the understanding that this money should be counted out to them in one way only -- on one of the ships in their own fleet. Such were the proposals they put forward, either because they imagined that there were springs of gold in our domains, or simply because they had decided [149] to fight in any case. The terms were impossible, purposely so, in order that they could haste a plausible excuse for going to war. So, as their envoys were not even considered worthy of an answer, both sides prepared for combat. The enemy were so confident in their own overwhelming numbers that they thought the city, with all its inhabitants, would surrender.
93. At the time our naval forces were below strength**112 and the fireships were scattered at various naval stations, some here and some there, on guard duty. The emperor therefore gathered together some hulks of the old fleet and strengthened them with new thwarts, added some transport vessels used in the imperial service, and got ready for sea a few triremes, on which he embarked a certain number of fighting men. After a generous supply of Greek fire**113 had been put aboard these ships, he ranged them in the opposite harbour to face the Russian vessels. He himself, with a picked body of senators, spent the night at anchor in the actual harbour, not far frorn the shore. A clear declaration of war at sea was made to the barbarians by a herald, and when day broke Constantine set his fleet in battlearray. The enemy also put to sea from the port on the other side. They sailed out as if they were leaving a military camp, complete with fortified rampart. When they were well out from the land, they arranged all their ships in line, so that they formed a continuous chain stretching across the water from the harbour on one side to the harbour on the other. They were now ready to attack us, or, if we made the first assault, to repel us. It was a sight that produced the most alarming effect on every man who saw it. For my own part, I was standing at the emperor's side. He was seated on a hill which sloped gently down to the sea, watching the engagement from a distance.
94. Such then was the order of battle on their side and ours. No attempt was made to join combat, however, for each fleet remained motionless, with line intact. A considerable part of the day had already passed, when the emperor signalled two of our big ships to advance slowly on the enemy. They sailed forward line abreast, moving beautifully, with the pikemen and stone-throwers cheering aloft and the hurlers of Greek fire standing by in good order ready to shoot. At this, several of the Russian vessels left their line and bore down on our ships at full speed. Then, dividing in two, they circled round each of the triremes and hemmed them in, while they tried to [150] hole them below deck with long poles. Our men, meanwhile, engaged them with stones from above and fought them off with their cutlasses. Greek fire, too, was hurled at them, and the Russians, being unable to see now, threw themselves into the water, trying to swim back to their comrades, or else, at a loss what to do, gave up all hope of escape.
95. Thereupon a second signal was given and more triremes put out to sea. Other ships followed or sailed alongside. It was our fleet now that took courage, while the enemy hove-to in amazement. When the triremes neared the barbarians, the latter lost all coherence and their line broke. Some had the fortitude to stay where they were but the majority fled. Suddenly the sun attracted a mist off the lowlying land (most of the horizon consisted of high ground) and the weather changed. A strong breeze blew from east to west, ploughed up the sea with a hurricane, and rolled waves down on the Russians. Some of their ships were overwhelmed on the spot under the weight of tremendous seas; others were driven far away and hurled on to rocks and precipitous coasts. A certain number of these latter were hunted down by our triremes. Some they sank in deep water, with the crews still aboard. The fighting men in the triremes cut others in half and towed them, partially submerged, to nearby beaches. So a great massacre of barbarians took place and a veritable stream of blood reddened the sea: one might well believe it came down the rivers off the mainland.**114
96. After this notable victory over his enemies, the emperor returned to the palace in triumph. As a matter of fact, there was a widespread legend -- despite a thorough examination of these stories I myself discovered no real foundation for the prophecy -- however it was said that although the emperor was destined to meet with a host of dangers, some arising from abroad and the barbarian world, others engineered in territories then under Roman domination, all of them would come to nothing. Some special good fortune, they said, favoured the emperor, and because of it he would stamp out every revolt with the greatest ease. It is a fact, too, that Constantine himself used to refer proudly to certain prophecies and auguries connected with his reign. He recalled extraordinary visions and dreams, some that he had experienced himself, others that he had heard of from soothsayers. On this subject he had some wonderful things to say. So it came about that when danger was imminent and while other [151] men were alarmed and filled with dread for the future, he himself was confident of ultimate victory. He would comfort the fainthearted and face disaster with a self-composure that gave no indication of the dangers that threatened him.
97. Personally, I know of no power of divination possessed by the man. I attribute the phenomenon to an easy-going and carefree disposition. Men who have an eye for trouble, men who know that tiny causes have often given birth to very great disasters, are full of worry at every unusual event, and when their troubles are at the zenith, they fear for the outcome and tremble at every harassing rumour. Even if their luck turns, they still cannot believe it. On the other hand, there are the simple-minded folk, who neither suspect the origin of future troubles nor bestir themselves to deal with the cause of their woes. They have an inclination for pleasures and they desire to revel in them for ever. What is more, they like to convert strangers to the same way of thinking. In order to live a peaceful existence, to follow their peaceful pursuits, they tell the rest of the world, with the air of soothsayers, that they will find swift relief from their grievous misfortunes. There is also a third class of people, with a finer temperament. If trouble should come upon them surreptitiously, it does not catch them unprepared: certainly their ears are not dinned with the crashes and noise around and outside them. Trouble does not scare them, cannot cow them into submission. On the contrary, when all others have given up in despair, these persons stand imperturbable in the face of peril, relying for support not on material things, but on the soundness of reason and on their own superior judgment. I must admit, though, that so far I have not met with men of that sort in my life-time. In our generation it is considered a fine thing if a man, believing trouble to be at hand, braces himself to meet the blow, and when it has fallen, tries to the last gasp to repel it. In the emperor's case, the people were convinced that some supernatural power foretold him the future: because of this he had more than once shown himself undaunted in time of calamity. Hence, they argued, his contempt of danger and his utter nonchalance.
98. The reason why I have made such a long preliminary explanation is to prevent the majority of my readers from thinking the man was possessed of prophetic powers. They might believe he had such powers when I tell them, in the course of my history, that he predicted or repudiated this or that result. They must realize that his [152] words were merely in harmony with his general character. The outcome of events must, of course, be ascribed to the Will of God. At this stage I would like to describe a second revolt against the emperor, a revolt more terrible even than the first. Let me go back therefore to the beginning of the story. First I will explain the origin of this revolt and what were its causes. Then I will give an account of the rebellion that preceded it, its character and background, the person responsible for both outbreaks, and what it was that encouraged him to make his attempt.
99. I will begin then where I left off the narrative. The emperor had a second cousin on the maternal side, a man called Leo, a member of the Tornician family.**115 He lived in Adrianopolis and reeked of Macedonian arrogance. The fellow was not insignificant as far as personal appearance went, but his disposition was crafty and his mind was perpetually open to revolutionary ideas. He had not yet grown up to manhood before a brilliant career -- the usual kind of nonsense often talked of with regard to certain people -- was predicted for him bit a great number of persons. When he did become a man and showed some strength of character, the Macedonian party definitely attached itself to him. Daring attempts at revolt, involving considerable danger, were made frequently, but they failed to make them at the right time; sometimes Leo was not available, because he was out of the country; sometimes the excuse for revolt was inadequate. However, the idea of rebellion was still secretly cherished in their hearts. Such was the state of affairs when the following event took place, an event that not only stirred them to secede from the Empire, but to engage in active opposition to the emperor.
100. The emperor Constantine had two sisters, the elder called Helena, the younger Euprepia. Of Helena he took no notice, but in the case of the younger sister his treatment was quite different. In her youth she had no particular distinction to boast of: her fortunes had not then attained their subsequent splendour. She was a woman of great pride. In fact, of all the women I have seen, she was the most steadfast and the hardest to influence. Her brother, as I have already remarked, was cautious in his dealings with her -- not unnaturally. He had no brotherly feelings for the lady, even when she acquiesced in his wishes. On the contrary, there was more fear than respect in his demeanour. She was therefore deceived of the proud hopes she had built upon her brother, and although she refrained from show- [153]ing her displeasure with Constantine by really eccentric behaviour -- she never did that -- yet she rarely approached him, and when she did, she was not confident in his presence, as a sister should have been. If she condescended to talk with him at all, it was in a supercilious way. With old-fashioned arrogance she would find fault with most of his actions. She would find fresh causes for complaint and then, when she saw that he was angry, quietly withdraw with a glance of disdain, murmuring abuse under her breath. Now when she found that her brother was by no means favourably disposed or rather downright hostile, to the aforesaid Tornicius, she welcomed the attentions of the latter gentleman and showed herself most amiable to him. She held frequent conversations with him, although in the past her relations had not been so friendly. Constantine was extremely angry about this, but he kept dark his intentions with regard to Tornicius; so far he had no reasonable excuse for doing him injury. However, in order to separate them, he sent him away from the city, without for the moment disclosing his real purpose to Euprepia. The pretext was plausible enough -- he was to be made governor of Iberia, and, although he did not say so, he was thereby condemned to an honourable exile.
101. Yet even when the man was abroad his reputation followed him. Perhaps I ought rather to say that most people seized on this reputation of his as an opportunity to accuse him. They invented stories to slander him, declaring that he was plotting a coup, and so persistent were they that Constantine was forced to anticipate the danger. He himself was not unduly perturbed at these rumours, but when he saw his sister taking Tornicius's part, and when he heard her pass a remark on one occasion to the effect that her cousin would assuredly not come to any harm, for the Lord on High watched over him, he was really alarmed. Although no longer able to contain his wrath, he still made no attempt to destroy the man: his policy was rather to cut him off from all possibility of leading a revolt. He therefore sent men under orders to cut off Tornicius's hair and garb him, with all speed, in a monkish habit. So was Tornicius bereft of his hopes. Once clothed in magnificent robes, he was now suddenly reduced to rags, and it was in this sorry plight that he returned to the city. Even under these circumstances Constantine had no word of sympathy for him, no pity for his fate, that destiny which had once buoyed him up with high expectations and then had suddenly cast him down. Many a time when Tornicius approached him he sent him away harshly, and then laughed at his pitiable condition. Only Euprepia, whether because of their kinship or for some other reason befriended him and greeted him in a kindly way. Their relationship gave her an excellent pretext for this kindness.
102. It happened that at that particular time there was a Macedonian colony living in the neighbourhood of the city. Prominent among them were people who had originally pitted in Adrianopolis. They were crafty individuals, saying one thing and meaning another, only too willing to take up any ridiculous project and most energetic in carrying it out, very clever at hiding their thoughts, and absolutely loyal to the agreements they made among themselves. The emperor treated them with complete indifference. As far as he was concerned the lion had already been sacrificed and his claws had been drawn. However that may be, the Macedonians thought that here at last was the oft-sought chance of revolution, and after a brief consultation between their leaders -- they had long ago determined their aims -- they stirred Tornicius to make his ridiculous attempt and encouraged themselves to give mutual undertakings to strike the daring blow. They got him out of the city by night secretly with the help of a few confederates -- they were quite insignificant persons -- and drove straight for Macedonia. To prevent horsemen riding out in pursuit and reaching the passes before them, or hunting them down by following their tracks, each time they stopped at a stage they killed the state horses. So, pressing on without respite, they crossed the Macedonian border, seized Hadrian's city as an acropolis, and at once set to work.
103. As they had to levy troops and no money was ready to hand, nor anything else likely to induce army commanders to join therm and subscribe to their plan of campaign, their first move was to send out immediately a band of expert propagandists in all directions. These men approached individual soldiers wherever they chanced to be and deliberately confirmed that the emperor was dead. They told them that Theodora was now mistress of the Empire and had chosen as her partner, in preference to all others, Leo of Macedonia, a man distinguished for his wisdom, and a man of action, and descended from illustrious forebears. Thanks to this ruse and by inventing this lie, they assembled the armies of the west from all directions in a matter of a few days. It was not the lying story alone that effected this [155] union: no doubt they nourished some hatred for the emperor on their own account. There were reasons for this: he had somewhat disparaged their military talents, and he suspected them (there had been some revolutionary movement before this) and it was his intention to punish them one by one. It was now a question of who got in the first blow.
104. The concentration of their forces was carried out with an expedition which surprised even themselves. A common policy was adopted and they chose Leo as emperor.**116 The ceremony of proclamation was performed as far as circumstances allowed, with Leo dressed in magnificent robes and raised on the shield. For his part, once he was garbed in an emperor's apparel, he lorded it over his supporters in a dictatorial and truly imperial fashion, as if he had already won success in his rebellion. He forgot that he was merely a kind of actor playing a rôle on the stage or striking a pose. Admittedly, his followers were quite content that he should rule with a firm hand, and as for the mass of the people, since he was neither able to distribute largess nor win them over by bribes, he gained their adherence by remission of taxes. They were given the privilege, too, of going out to plunder and of reckoning as their own undisputed property whatever they could capture. With regard to the officials and members of the senate, once he had made his selection, he appointed some to command his armies, others he kept near his imperial throne, others he constituted an inner council of state. In all cases he conformed to their wishes as well as his own, and the administrative posts were divided among them to suit each man's individual capacity. Then he set out without further delay for the city. They hoped in this way to forestall the emperor's plans by surprise and throw themselves upon him before he could move his eastern army to repel them.**117 Besides, they were under the impression that the inhabitants of Constantinople would not remain loyal: they expected no opposition there, because the emperor had made himself unpopular by introducing reforms which curbed the liberty of the citizens. The people loathed him as a ruler and wanted to see a soldier-emperor, a man who would endanger his own life on their behalf and put an end to barbarian incursions.
105 Certainly, even before they drew near to the city walls, a considerable body did join them on the march and a host of soldiers came from the uplands too. The whole country as far as the city, in [156] fact, was favourable to their project and lent its support. Such was the state of their affairs; with the emperor it was altogether different. There was no national army; no auxiliary forces were concentrated anywhere in the district, with the exception of a small band of mercenaries whose duty was to act as escort in the imperial processions. As for the army of the east, it was not even encamped in its own provinces, where, if the order was given, it could concentrate quickly and bring help to the emperor when danger threatened. These men had been quartered in the depths of Iberia, where they were engaged in repelling a barbarian invasion. There was no hope of succour for Constantine from abroad; safety for him depended on one thing only -- the circle of walls around him -- and it was on the avails that he expended his efforts, building up the parts which had been allowed by negligence to fall into a state of disrepair, and planting his stonethrowing machines thick on the ramparts.
106. By some chance at was precisely at this moment that his gout became worse. In fact, it became so distressing that his hands were completely dislocated and his feet swollen with terrible pairs. Apart from that, he was quite incapable of walking. His stomach, too, was in a disordered condition, with diarrhoea and general putrefaction. His whole body was being consumed and eaten away by a wasting illness, so that he could neither move nor come into contact with the people. It was natural, therefore, that the city populace should think he was dead, and mass meetings were held in different parts of the city where they debated whether they ought to run away and join the pretender. To counter this, although it was against his inclination, Constantine was compelled from time to time to mix with the people, or allow himself to be seen from a distance and prove by his gestures that he was still alive.
107. So much for the emperor. The pretender, meanwhile, running like the wind, encamped with all his army on a spot in front of the city.**118 The operation was not war, nor a pitched battle, but a pure siege and simple wall-fighting. I heard some of the soldiers and some of the older men say that never before had any rebel been so daring as to prepare to set up artillery in front of the city and bend his bows against its battlements, with an army encircling the whole outer circumference of the walls. Amazement and confusion reigned everywhere and it seemed that the entire city would fall an easy prey to the enemy. The rebel had meanwhile moved up to a position [157] some little distance from the walls. Here he threw up a rampart and pitched his camp in full view of the defending army. He bivouacked on his rampart for a short time that night, but the rest of the time he spent on horseback, encouraging his men to follow his own example and sleep on the fortification. He arranged his light-armed troops and went forward himself on foot. At break of day they were all in position before the walls, not in a confused mob, nor massed together in one great body, but disposed in a soldier-like way and giving every sign of readiness for battle. And in order to fill us with terror -- we, forsooth, had no experience of war -- every man wore armour. Some were completely armed, with greaves and breastplate, and their horses clad in mail at all points, but others were protected with whatever they could get.
108. The rebel himself, riding on a white horse, was in the exact centre of his army, together with the pick of his knights and the better part of his troops. He had surrounded himself, also, with light-armed soldiers, all of them good shots at long range, and lightly equipped and fast runners. The rest of the army stood on either flank in order of battle under their several commanders. Although the battalions preserved their formations, they had been divided into groups, not of sixteen men, but less. The object of this was to allow the whole body to deploy over a bigger area. Thus congestion was avoided and the men were not in close order. Behind was a great multitude, which, to those on the walls, seemed countless, for they also had been divided into small groups. Nevertheless, as they charged on foot or on horseback, both groups at the same time, they gave the impression not so much of a strong army as of a disordered mob.
l09. I will leave them and come back to the emperor. Besieged as he was inside the city walls, his immediate object was to prove to his enemies that he was still alive. So, dressed in his imperial robes, he sat together with the empresses on a balcony of one of the imperial apartments, breathing faintly and groaning in a feeble manner. The only part of the enemy's army that he saw was that immediately in front and near him. The rebels were, in fact, drawn up in good order close by the walls. Their first move was to remind the defenders on the wall of the dreadful things they had suffered at the emperor's hands. They brought to their notice the alleviation that would result from his capture, the sufferings that would follow his continued [158] freedom. This information was proffered at different parts of the wall in turn. They begged the defenders to open the gates to them and receive within their city a sovereign who was kindly and merciful, one who would treat them with humanity and bring new glory to the Roman Empire by waging victorious wars against the barbarians.
110. As no favourable reply was forthcoming from the persons to whom these remarks had been addressed -- actually they poured forth a torrent of abuse, with all manner of disgraceful epithets, both on them and their pretender -- they definitely gave up all hope of support from the people of the city. Thereupon they began hurling insults at the emperor. They reviled him for his bodily weakness. They called him 'accursed', a 'degenerate seeker after unholy pleasures', 'the bane of the city', 'corrupter of the people', with a whole string of other disgusting and scurrilous invectives. Most of the Macedonians, being a folk who delight in arrogance and insolent bearing more accustomed to the buffoonery of townsmen than the simplicity of the camp, most of them, I say, dismounted from their horses and started choral dances, where everyone could see them. They improvised comic turns at the emperor's expense, stamping on the ground with their feet in time to their music and dancing in triumph. Some of these performances Constantine saw, others he only heard. I was standing near him at the time, shocked at the things that were being said, but still trying to comfort him. He did not know what to do, put to shame as he was, not only by their actions, but also by their insults.
111. However, some of the city-men got outside the wall and stopped their cavalry as they were riding up and down, some by hurling stones from their slings, others by shooting arrows. The enemy feigned flight -- a manoeuvre they had rehearsed beforehand -- and having lured our men to pursue them, they suddenly wheeled about, slaying with sword and spear. One of the rebels, who knew how to shoot arrows from horseback, got near the walls without our knowledge, and drawing his bow right opposite the emperor, shot straight at him. The arrow sped through the air at tremendous speed, but the emperor moved slightly to one side and it missed him, just grazing one of his chamberlains in the ribs, a young man of some note.**119 We ourselves were transfixed with terror. Constantine shifted his seat and took up a position further away from the enemy's [159] troops. They had risen early, as I have said, and they stayed there right up to mid-day, talking, listening, now flattering us, now uttering threats. Then they turned their horses aside and made for their rampart. Machines of war were prepared and the siege of the city was immediately begun once more.
112. The emperor, after he had recovered his self-composure, thought it would be disgraceful if he did not get together some soldiers to oppose them: they would have to be prevented from making attacks by a ditch and cut of from entry into the city by a barricade. He must keep them at a distance, so as not to hear their remarks or have insults thrown in his teeth. That was his first bad mistake. The second was made when he referred his plan to certain persons who had no experience of war.**120 Most of them were pleased with his scheme, so, first of all, a thorough search of the prisons was carried out to find if any soldiers had been shut up in them. These men were liberated, armed with bows and spears, and equipped for battle. Constantine's next step was to enrol in what was left of his army a mob of ordinary citizens. They were quite numerous, volunteers who fooled at war as if it were just another of their games. Throughout that night the digging went on at a ditch to encircle the city and a palisade was set up in front of it. At dawn, before the enemy presented themselves to our view, he drew up in order of battle the elite of our troops and got them into position exactly opposite the enemy. They were partly composed of squadrons of cavalry, partly of companies of light-armed soldiers, all protected by defensive armour. He arranged the whole force in battalions, and then, seating himself a second time on a high vantage-point, he decided to watch what happened from a distance.
113. The enemy knew nothing of these preparations. When they approached and found our battalions massed in their path, they immediately drew rein, judging it wise to find out first whence all this army of ours had been collected. What they feared was that some contingent from the east had come to our aid. However, when they discovered that the defenders were merely a pack of vagabonds and saw the ditch was shallow and easy to cross, they laughed the emperor to scorn for his folly. Here, they decided, was the chance they were seeking. So, in close order, shield to shield, and howling their war-cry, they made a concerted attack in full force, on horseback. The ditch was cleared without the slightest difficulty and the [160] defenders, who until that moment had kept their ranks, were at once put to flight. The enemy then worked round to their rear and wiped them out to a man, some by the sword, others with their spears. Actually the majority were jostled by their own comrades, slipped off their horses, and were trampled to death on the spot. Nor were those who had gone outside the city the only ones to run away: their example was followed by all those who chanced to be standing near the emperor. They believed the rebel was an the point of entering the city and all of them would be destroyed.
114. Apart from arguments suggested by prudence, there was nothing to prevent the enemy getting inside the fortifications: the prize was there to be taken with impunity. The officers in charge at the wall-gates had already abandoned their guard, while they looked for some place to give them shelter. Throughout the city were men on the way back to their homes, or men who contemplated going over to the pretender. But Tornicius shirked the final entry. Perhaps it would be truer to say that he was confidently awaiting our invitation to make him emperor; he expected to be led up to the palace preceded by torches, in a procession worthy of a sovereign. So he put off his entry to the morrow. For the moment he was content to ride on horseback to the several divisions of his army, shouting his orders. There was to be an end to the murder of their kinsmen: the massacre of the enemy must stop. He even set free intended victims and prevented any show of force.
115. Meanwhile the emperor had been deserted. It was believed that he was about to die in a few moments. But when he heard Tornicius shouting these orders and saw him stopping the massacre, he turned to me. 'This is really serious,' he said. 'When a cruel fellow like this rebel turns to compassion and mercy, it may win him Divine approval.'
116. His sister was meanwhile lamenting bitterly (I am talking now of the elder sister, for Euprepia had already been condemned to exile) and she urged him to flee and take refuge in one of the churches. Constantine glared at her fiercely. 'Let somebody lead her away,'' he said, 'if we still have anyone left. She can keep her dirges to herself. Besides, she may make me soft as well.' Then he added, turning to me a second time, 'The enemy's good luck will end today. From now on his fortunes will change. He might as well try to get foothold in a quicksand.'
[161] 117. After completing his arrangements and taking a fair number of prisoners, Tornicius retired to his own entrenchments in good order. For his part, the emperor decided against any fresh attempt at surprise. Instead, he repaired the breaches in the city walls, and proceeded to curry favour with the people. He showed his appreciation of their loyalty in the past, and promised them rewards, as if at the Games, if they continued to be faithful in the future. The siege itself had little effect on him. Meanwhile his opponent, after bivouacking just that one night on the rampart, advanced at daybreak with his army, apparently under the impression that the Empire was his for the taking. With him he brought his prisoners, loaded with chains, and set them before the walls. They had been instructed what to say at the appointed moment. So they stood there, some distance apart from one another, stirring pity by their cries as well as by their gestures. To the emperor they said nothing, but addressed their remarks to the people. They begged them not to treat with contempt men of their own race and their own families, nor bear to watch themselves, a pitiable sight, being hacked into pieces before their very eyes, like victims at a sacrifice. They warned us not to tempt Providence by making light of a sovereign such as the world had never seen before, one whom they themselves knew well by experience. He could have destroyed them even then, they said, and he could have treated them as enemies, but no, -- till that moment he had put off the massacre, sparing their lives in order to do us a favour. Thereupon, by way of contrast, they gave a dramatic account of the terrible deeds of our ruler. They described how in the beginning of his reign he had raised very high the hopes of the city, only to bring us down from the clouds to the edge of a precipice. Such were the main points touched on by these prisoners. But the people's loyalty still did not waver.
118. The sequel to these events came about in the following way. The defenders kept throwing considerable masses of rock from inside the walls at their enemies, but no one was hit, for the missiles fell short. Then those who were working the machine pulled back the sling further than usual and shot one of their biggest stones at Tornicius himself. They missed him, but so frightened him and his staff that they took to their heels. The panic and confusion caused among them by this one incident not only broke their ranks but made them retire to their own rampart.
119. That event marked the change in their fortunes. After being buoyed up by their hopes for a brief interval, and (it must be admitted) by the serious condition of our own affairs, their expectations swiftly declined and vanished away. At all events, they never came near the city walls again, but after bivouacking a few days in their camp they returned whence they had come, most of them in disorder, with all the appearance of an army on the run. At that stage, no doubt, if only sixteen or seventeen knights had come in sight of their rearguard, not even a pyrphorus**121 would have been left in that scattered disorderly force. The emperor expected them to retreat, but no attempt was made to pursue them, for he was held back by memories of his previous shock, and so the opportunity was lost.
120. Nevertheless, to us even the withdrawal from their entrenchments seemed a most glorious triumph, and the populace of the city poured out to see them. They found great quantities of supplies left in the encampment, abandoned because the enemy had no time to load them on their baggage-animals. They had been more concerned with their own retreat from the lines, without attracting attention, than getting away loaded with riches and full equipment. Despite this precaution, the rebels no sooner got away than they vented their wrath on Tornicius. Everyone was eager to desert him for they all dreaded the future. On the other hand, mutual suspicion, as well as the difficulty of running away, forced them to stay together. Meanwhile, whenever opportunities of escape did occur they seized them and made off to the emperor and the cit