Chapter V: The Dying Emperor

Constantine Born-in-the-Purple, who, if he had degenerated into a ceremonial martinet, was neither depraved nor idiotic, watched with sorrow and shame the excesses of his only son, though his easy indulgence and his enfeebled will prevented him from interfering to check them. And, steeped as he was in the narcotic poison of a crowd of parasites and sycophants, he had yet too much experience of empire and of the enormous burdens of its ruler not to turn with a heavy heart to the ominous storm-clouds around his throne. He felt himself dying by inches; and, in spite of the extravagant adulation that formed his daily existence, he had too much sense not to be aware that he was leaving his empire to a broken and reckless debauchee, his wife and daughters to an ambitious and unscrupulous rival, and the frontiers of his vast dominions a prey to powerful enemies--to the advancing tide of the Prophet, to the savage corsairs who swept the Ægean Sea and the coasts of Asia, and to the barbarous hordes on the Ister and the Danapris, who hung like avalanches from the northern steppes ready to burst on the plains below. Long and weary were the secret councils which the broken Augustus would hold with minister or general, high-priest, philosopher, or monk, whom from time to time he would call to offer him advice.

The emperor of the Romans at Constantinople, feeble and pedantic as was Constantine himself, was still surrounded by statesmen of great experience and sagacity, who were served by an immense army of trained officials and zealous administrators. This secular organization kept in life and activity the vast fabric of civilized government which had been built up by a long succession of Constantines, Basils, and Leos, and which was carried back by tradition to the ages of Justinian and Theodosius, even to those of the Antonines and Trajan. It was far in advance of any engine of government then existing on earth, unless it were for the moment in Andalusia; and it maintained the framework of civilization and of imperial administration at an age when both the Asiatic and the Teutonic polities were in a state of flux and rudiment. The sovereign lord of Constantinople still held in subjection the manifold races of his heterogeneous dominion by means partly of the overwhelming tradition of Roman rule, partly by the mysterious consecration he received from the Orthodox Church, but practically by the instrument of a trained and organized service, both civil and military, much as the czar of Russia and the padishah of Roum have held their kingdoms together in spite of corruption, folly, and intrigue in the court, and at times gross incompetence on the throne itself.

On one day, at the close of Constantine's life and reign--he was now in his fifty-fifth year--nearly all of which time he had been nominally Basileus, the emperor held long and anxious privy council with several of his great officers of state. The conclave had been almost forced upon him by the vehement expostulations of the patriarch, the venerable Polyeuctus. This famous prelate had been brought from his monastery, where his austere piety and zealous spirit had covered him with a halo of sanctity, in order to purge the Holy See of St. Sophia from the scandalous extravagances of Theophylact, when that horse-racing patriarch had been killed by a vicious stallion he had bred. Polyeuctus did not hesitate to rebuke even the sacred person of Augustus himself before his whole congregation. And, much as Constantine resented and feared the warnings of the ardent patriarch, he silently admitted the justice and honesty of the stern monk and fully understood the secret of his unbounded influence. On this occasion the patriarch was supported by the patrician, Joseph Bringas, lord high admiral and lord commander of the eunuchs, who, eunuch as he was himself, was a man of great intellect and power, and practically the chief authority within the Sacred Palace. He had brought with him to the imperial cabinet Sisinnios, one of the proto-spathaires and prefect of the city; the proto-secretis, or chief secretary, Theophylact Matzitzikos; and his Honor Judge Joseph, one of the spatharo candidates, president of the High Court of Justice. These five councillors were all men capable of governing an empire and fully aware of the perils around it.

The patriarch began, as was natural from his exalted office and the fiery nature of the man: "Most august sovereign, the critical condition of thy kingdom and the manifest disorder of thine own household require thy most serious concern; and we, thy servants, and servants by thy favor, be it said, of the Most High God and of His precious realm, have come to warn thee, O King, even as the prophet Samuel gave warning to Saul and the blessed St. Paul to Festus. Thy only son and our future Basileus is filling this city and thy Sacred Palace with his fooleries, his stage-players, his orgies, and his wantoning. The woman whom thou gavest him to wife does nothing to restrain his vices. Would that we could see in her any virtues of her own. She wastes the treasures of thy kingdom on effeminate displays and unworthy favorites. She is forming in thy palace a party who are alien to thee and to thine; she is seeking to attach to herself the most unscrupulous adventurers she can find, and is manifestly grasping for herself the power of the state. She openly flouts her Sacred Majesty the Empress, and permits her minions to speak evil of the princesses, thy honored daughters. In private she mocks at the sacred offices of the Church, and has suffered them to profane the very altar in her private chapel of St. Theodore. Chastise her offences, O king, and banish her to a convent in some distant island, or thy son, thy wife, and thy daughters will be made the victims of her jealousy, and thy golden throne may be occupied one day by some paramour of her own whom she has chosen to place in power by her side."

"Forbear, forbear from such awful words," groaned the miserable emperor, who sat propped up on his cushions and cowering at each blow of the monk's words as if he were struck with a scourge. "Forbear, most venerable patriarch, in the name of Christ, Our Lord, and the Holy Mother who bore Him. For mercy's sake cease thy maledictions, and tell me how can I, the loving but the dying father of my headstrong son, venture to chastise him as a boy, and how can I part him from the wife he has chosen to wed, and how tear her down from the high place of state which I have given her myself. Alas! alas!" cried the broken old father, wringing his thin hands as hot tears poured down his emaciated cheeks, "have I not striven to train up my son in every virtue and in princely deportment to make him worthy of the royal part he was to bear; and this, this is the end of all my pains and my teaching, of the many tutors and my own writings. And she whom I gave him to wife seemed so able to bear all the duties of Basilissa and to understand the great part she had assumed. And this is the end of our love and our forethought." And the poor old man wept bitter tears.

"It is not for me, most august sovereign," replied the zealous prelate, "it is not for us, the servants of the Most High God, absorbed as we are in sacred things, to offer thee counsel in things of the world; nor am I skilled in devising machinations of policy to deal with sublunary intrigues. This most sagacious counsellor here, the Lord Bringas, or the illustrious patrician Sisinnios, can advise thee in such things which belong to their province. 'Tis mine, O King, only by fastings, watchings, and adoration at the altar of God, to receive such warnings as His mercy vouchsafes to convey to men by the unworthy channel of His anointed priests. And as one of the humblest of these servants of the Most High, I tell thee, Lord Sovereign Augustus, to thy face, thou art harboring in thy palace a woman such as thy imperial ancestors have harbored of old--an Irenei a Eudocia, a Theodora--ay, even such a one as Ahab, King of Israel, once harbored to the ruin of his kingdom and his house." Constantine quivered and sobbed in silence. And the patriarch solemnly folded around him his robe of office and slowly left the imperial presence with no visible sign of obeisance, adding only: "I go hence to my place in the Holy Wisdom, to partake of the body and blood of Him in whose sight the kings of the earth are worms and dust. I go to pray for thee and for this realm and people of Christ."

The patriarch, whose supreme office and reputation for sanctity placed him for the time on more than an equality with the weak and yet conscientious emperor, quitted the council, leaving Constantine overwhelmed with his emotions and the other officials somewhat alarmed at such an outburst. At last Joseph Bringas, a real statesman and a man of energy and prudence, ventured to say: "Most august sovereign, it is not for thy lay servants to answer the accusations which his Holiness the Patriarch holds it his duty to deliver to his sovereign. If the words he has presumed to speak have been put into his heart by God Himself, thy royal wisdom will not fail to judge. For us, mere lay ministers and thy counsellors in earthly policy, it is enough to consider what is politic, practicable, and prudent to be done, for the sake of thy sacred person, thy family, and thy throne. It is not for us to judge thy royal son, his Highness the Basileus, but I venture to appeal to his father's heart if his errors are more than the failings of such extreme youth. His natural disposition is excellent and his goodness of heart makes him indulgent to those about him. To put him under restraint would be to light up a civil war; to assail the royal lady, his lawful spouse, would involve a revolution in the palace which would soon spread to the city. A strong hand to guide his youth and to check the disorders of thy household is all that is needed. The favor of your Majesty has given me authority in the past. Extend and continue thy royal favor to thy devoted servant, and with the aid of these councillors here, we will answer for peace and order at home."

"Intrust me with ample authority to arrest and deport any favorite of his Highness who may be organizing sedition in the city, and I will answer for the conduct of the Factions at all times," said Sisinnios the prefect.

"And the logothete, your Majesty's treasurer," said the chief secretary, "must be authorized to refuse those incessant advances which he is called upon to honor, ostensibly for the ornaments and household of her Royal Highness, but which we have reason to know are being accumulated for a very different object."

"The existence of your Majesty's empire depends on a rigid administration of the imperial finances," broke in the patrician Bringas. "The payment of tribute has been seriously reduced for years past by the ravages of the Moslem invaders on the East, and especially by the corsairs of Crete. But the whole of our seaboard and Asian frontier will be drained of its resources unless we can restore the supremacy of Roman arms, so much shaken by these infidel hordes. Your Majesty has one great soldier in your armies. To him no triumphs are too great to be achieved--a soldier of courage and genius, that may vie with Heraclius, or Narses, or Belisarius himself. Need I say that I mean Nicephorus, the Armenian of the warlike race of Phocas? Place him, O king, at the head of a powerful army and a fleet of equal strength, give him thy imperial command to restore the supremacy of the Cross, and the Roman name shall be again as great in the two continents as was ever that of Justinian or Theodosius; and Christendom will be rid forever of the accursed brood of Hagar."

"Well, but this is just what the Lord Akritas of the Eastern Marches told us," interrupted the distracted Basileus, "when I summoned him to advise us on our policy in the East."

"Most mighty sovereign, it is what every real soldier has said for a generation, and what every wise man at home knows to be the truth."

"Have we not made this favorite hero of our armies a grand marshal of the empire, commander-in-chief of the forces of the East? Have we not loaded him with honors, appanages, and favors from our throne?"

"And he has won each honor that your Majesty has been pleased to vouchsafe to him, by saving a province or by increasing the empire," said the chief eunuch.

"Nay, but if we place in the hands of this adored general a power so vast, will not ambition prompt him to turn his arms against our dynasty in the person of our too careless son?" asked the ever-timid and suspicious sovereign.

"Nicephorus Phocas," said the chief eunuch, "is the soul of loyalty and the mirror of honor. He is as utterly incapable of treason, rebellion, or even disobedience as the archangel Michael beside the throne of God. Few, indeed, are the trusted officers of your Majesty's armies to whom I would counsel you to confide such paramount authority in arms. Nor, indeed, for that matter, would I like to counsel that it be confided to any of your Majesty's servants at home," said Joseph Bringas, as he looked at his colleagues with a significant smile.

"I would not advise the bringing home this great soldier from Asia. But Nicephorus Phocas may be trusted to be true to death while he is serving his sovereign in arms abroad. We may trust him even as we may trust the saints in heaven."

"And do our trusty councillors here present in audience share the confidence of our most noble lord admiral in the loyalty of the grand marshal?" asked the Basileus, still hesitating. "Are ye all sure that when he possesses the collective forces of our empire, he will still remain servant of the illustrious dynasty that was founded by our mighty ancestor Basil, of pious and glorious memory?"

"If his power be limited to the armies, and he be occupied in Asia, we are all as sure of it as the Lord Bringas himself," replied the three officials appealed to.

"We will ponder and reflect on your advice," murmured the feeble sovereign, now thoroughly exhausted both in body and in mind. "We thank you, noble and trusty councillors, for your attendance upon us and your sage counsels. In the mean time, let the grand marshal of our Eastern armies be summoned to the Sacred Palace that we may confer with so illustrious a chief."

Nicephorus Phocas was duly summoned by imperial messenger, with the official despatch sealed with the vermilion cipher; but he never saw his punctilious and procrastinating master.

Constantine Porphyrogennetus was now dying. Enfeebled by internal disease, he was exhausted by chronic fevers, for which his physicians prescribed the baths of Prusa, in Bithynia. The medicinal waters rather aggravated his malady, and he turned from earthly to spiritual resources, visiting the monasteries around Mount Olympus, carried in his golden litter from cell to cell while he shared the watches, the services, the pallet of the most famous anchorites, joining in their prayers, hymns, and prostrations. All was in vain. He was borne down to the shore of the Marmora, whence the royal dromon, or galley, conveyed him by an easy transport to the Sacred Palace.

It was a cold and dreary November when the mighty Augustus was for the last time carried back to the hieros koiton, or imperial bedchamber, the magnificence of which seemed to mock the helplessness of the sinking potentate. The patriarch was summoned with his acolytes to administer the last offices of religion according to the rites of the Orthodox Church. The venerable Augusta sank down exhausted with grief and anxiety. The princesses were gathered round their father's couch, and Agatha, the youngest, was bending over him with incessant care to smooth his pillow and moisten his lips. The monarch in his expiring moments asked for his son. But no son was there. The reckless Romanus had gone off with a gay retinue of courtiers to hunt in the forests on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, and all the messengers had failed to meet him. The eunuchs of the royal chamber, the chief physician, and his Holiness the Patriarch, watched the last agony of the sovereign. At a sign from the physician who held the pulse of the dying man, the chief eunuch of the chamber closed the eyes and covered the face of the dead.

Then, with a loud voice which rang through the awe-struck and silent chamber, the Patriarch Polyeuctus sprang from his knees, and, raising aloft the crucifix, he cried: "Go forth hence, O king. The King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, has called thee to Himself."

At these thrilling words the Princess Agatha shrieked aloud and the venerable Augusta fainted. The other princesses flew to aid their mother: Zoe, the eldest, cried aloud for the ladies-in-waiting to carry the Augusta to her own bedchamber, the sacred apartment of the empress regnant.

But here the door of that chamber was flung open, and Theophano stood in the entrance like some fierce and majestic fury presiding over a scene of carnage. She was surrounded by her own chamberlains, eunuchs, and ladies of honor. "Bear not the widow hither, I command ye. There is no Augusta here but one--and I am your Basilissa to-day. The chamber of the empress is for me, and I share it with no relict of the dead. Here, carry off your late king to prepare him for the tomb. This sacred koiton is for my lord Romanus, second of that auspicious name, most mighty and illustrious Baselius of the Romans. In his name I charge ye, get ye all hence."

Appalled by this sudden apparition, as if it had been some evil spirit issuing from the depths of hell, and yet well aware of all that might be brought about by the waywardness of Romanus and the malice of Theophano, the family and retinue of the dead sovereign shrank away in tears and groans beneath the triumphant smiles of the new Augusta and the mocking menaces of the attendants she had brought.