Beside the deathbed of the gentle Arcadius, whom destiny snatched from life in the fulness of manhood, stood four weeping orphans of tenderest years, three maidens and a little lad--all too young to realize the greatness of their loss. These were the seven-year-old Theodosius, heir to the throne, the nine-year-old Pulcheria and her two younger sisters, Arcadia and Marina. In the orphanage of the children, it was natural that the eldest daughter should feel that upon herself rested the responsibility of acting as mother to her brother and sisters; and Pulcheria possessed the mental endowments and the rapidly developing nature which peculiarly fitted her for this task. Fortunately the administration of the Empire was in the hands of the praetorian prefect Anthemius, a wise and able counsellor, who acted as the guardian of the young prince and his sisters and directed their education. He, with the Patriarch Atticus, who was their religious guide and spiritual adviser, provided them with every possible advantage for intellectual and spiritual growth. Pulcheria early exhibited an earnest and almost manly intelligence. Along with the sympathetic and mystical temperament of a saint, she possessed the strong, practical sense of her grandfather, Theodosius the Great. Hence she was quick to turn her attention to problems of statecraft and displayed a precocious capacity for administration. Her duties as guardian of her brother and sisters also developed her innate love of mastery, so that as a child she gradually conceived a longing for the duties and responsibilities of the imperial station.
At the tender age of fourteen, Pulcheria began to win influence in state affairs. Proud and ambitious like her mother Eudoxia, she sought as rapidly as possible to assert her authority; and, as her power and influence grew, that of Anthemius gradually ceased to exert itself. By no other hypothesis can we explain why Anthemius at this time retired from active duties and did not retain his office as regent at least until two years later, when Theodosius, in his fifteenth year, should attain his majority.
On July 4, 414, Pulcheria, the daughter of an emperor, assumed, contrary to all precedent, the title of Augusta, previously reserved exclusively for the wives of emperors, and formally took upon herself the honor and the duties of regent in the name of her brother, who was still a minor. So thoroughly did she gain the ascendency over the young prince that even after he was created Augustus two years later she retained her title and continued to be the real power in the imperial palace; indeed, she was for forty years virtually the ruler of the Eastern Empire.
The children of Arcadius and Eudoxia inherited the religious temperament of their father rather than the worldly disposition of their mother. Consequently, the court of Theodosius the Younger formed a great contrast to that of Arcadius. Pulcheria determined to embrace a life of celibacy. Resolving to remain a virgin, she induced her sisters to join with her in vows of perpetual virginity. They were confirmed in this step by their spiritual father, Atticus, who wrote for the princesses a book in which he dwelt on the beauty of the single life. In the presence of the clergy and the assembled people of Constantinople the three daughters of Arcadius dedicated their virginity to God; and their solemn vows were inscribed on a tablet of gold and jewels, which was publicly offered in the Church of Saint Sophia. Pious souls saw in this vow of Pulcheria only the natural result of her strict piety and her unselfish love for her brother; but profane historians attributed it to her extraordinary prudence, which was with her a gift of nature, and to her unbounded ambition--on the ground that she could thus maintain permanently her ascendency over the young prince, and, by controlling his marriage, share his power.
In her manner of life, however, Pulcheria emphasized the genuineness of her piety. The imperial palace, as says a contemporary, assumed the character of a cloister. All males, except saintly men who had forgotten the distinction of sexes, were excluded from the holy threshold. Pulcheria and a chosen band of Christian damsels formed a sort of religious community. Spiritual practices were carried on, with strict punctuality, from morning till evening. Whereas richly clad senators and officers in sumptuous raiment had earlier passed in and out of the palace, so now the black robes of priests and the dark cowls of monks were to be seen thronging the entrance, and in place of the joyous songs of banquetings and festivities, one could hear the monotonous intoning of psalms. The vanity of dress which had scandalized the court of Eudoxia was discarded, and the simple garb of nuns was the prevailing fashion of the palace. The princesses did not employ themselves in personal adornment or in the many vanities of royal station, but spent much of their time at the loom, weaving garments for the poor and needy. A frugal diet was adopted, and even this was interrupted by frequent fasts. Thus Pulcheria and her maidens wearied not in their saintly life and in the performance of deeds of mercy.
These outward exercises of piety were attended by sumptuous beneficences for the spread of the Christian religion. Magnificent churches were built in various parts of the Empire at the expense of Pulcheria; charitable foundations for the benefit of the poor and the unfortunate were established in Constantinople and elsewhere, and ample donations were given by her for the perpetual maintenance of monastic societies. This imperial saint, who thus devoted a large part of her time and energies to the performance of religious duties and of charitable undertakings, naturally enjoyed the peculiar favor of the Deity. There is a tradition that the knowledge of the location of sacred relics and intimation of future events were communicated to her in dreams and revelations. The common people attributed healing power to her. Pulcheria's virtues aroused in the populace a feeling of admiration, and the saintly life of the palace awakened and spread a deep spiritual influence throughout the Empire.
Religion, however, was accompanied with culture, and Pulcheria, with the aid of the best masters, had her brother and sisters trained in all the various branches of knowledge acquired up to that time. Under her direction Theodosius became a student of natural science; and so great was his skill in writing and in illuminating manuscripts that he received the name of Calligraphus. Pulcheria acquired an elegant and familiar command of both Greek and Latin; and she displayed her intellectual discipline, and gift of expression on the various occasions of speaking or writing on public business.
Yet Pulcheria's devotion to religion and to learning never diverted her indefatigable attention from public affairs. She strengthened the influence of the senate and supported it in the reform of many abuses which had crept in during the ascendancy of the eunuchs of the palace and the struggles with the German party; but her energies were chiefly directed toward acting as counsellor to the emperor, and protecting him from the intrigues of court officials, to which his weak character made him an easy victim. She instructed her brother in the art of government, yet the tenderness of her discipline seems to have made him rather a willing instrument in her own hands than an independent monarch. Possibly she realized that the elements which go to form a great ruler were lacking in his character; possibly her own love of power blinded her to the right course of action toward her confiding ward. At any rate, "her precepts may countenance some suspicion of the extent of her capacity or the purity of her intention. She taught him to maintain a grave and majestic deportment; to walk, to hold his robe, to seat himself on his throne in a manner worthy of a great prince; to abstain from laughter; to listen with condescension; to return suitable answers; to assume, by turns, a serious or a placid countenance; in a word, to represent with grace and dignity the external figure of a Roman emperor."
Though so careful and systematic in her training of the young prince, Pulcheria did not deprive his boyhood of those companionships which add zest to youthful pursuits and recreation and stimulate the growth of manly qualities. She gave him as comrades two bright and spirited youths, Paulinus and Placitus, with whom he associated in open-hearted intimacy and who were destined to play a prominent part in his reign. Paulinus especially became his most trusted friend, and the two were united for many years by bonds which resembled those of Damon and Pythias. Amid such surroundings and under such influence, Theodosius grew up. The product of Pulcheria's instruction, however, was a ruler who descended below even the weakness of her father and uncle. Chaste, temperate, merciful, superstitious, pious, he was rich in negative qualities; but, being feeble in energy and lacking all initiative, he became merely a good-hearted and well-meaning, instead of active and courageous, ruler. Consequently in every official act it was Pulcheria who supplied the wisdom and the energy which made the earlier years of Theodosius's reign such happy and peaceful ones. Pulcheria, however, was content to keep her power in the background and to attribute to the genius of the emperor the smoothness with which the wheels of government turned, as well as the mildness and prosperity of his reign.
The choice of a wife for Theodosius naturally lay in the hands of Pulcheria. The young prince, influenced by the example of his father, had expressed to his sister his preference for rare physical perfection and high intellectual endowments over exalted station and royal blood in the choice of a consort; and Pulcheria, in conjunction with his boyhood friend Paulinus, set herself to the task of finding in the capital or in the provinces an ideal corresponding to the wishes of the imperial youth. Yet, while they were engaged in the search, by happy chance a wonderful concatenation of events in the pagan city of Athens determined the destiny of the nineteen-year-old ruler.
In the story of Athenais we have the beautiful romance of a maiden of modest station raised by destiny to the exalted dignity of a throne. She was the favorite child of Leontius, an Athenian philosopher, who devoted most of his time to training his daughter in the religion and philosophy of his native city, and who sought to cultivate in her all that charm of manner and richness of temperament which characterized the Greek women in the best days of ancient Athens. The story goes that the old philosopher was so confident that, because of her beauty and intellectual gifts, a high destiny awaited his daughter, that he bequeathed her as a legacy only a hundred pieces of gold, while he divided the bulk of his estate between his two sons, Valerius and Genesius. The brothers, being avaricious by nature and jealous of the superior qualities of their sister, treated her with neglect and cruelty in her distress. Athenais implored them to repair the obvious injustice and to grant her her rights, representing to them how she did not deserve this disgrace and that the indigence of their sister would be to them, if not a cause of grief, yet certainly a continual reproach; but her brothers would not listen to her appeals, and finally drove her from the paternal mansion. Fortunately, a maternal aunt resided in Athens, who received the disinherited maiden into her home and warmly espoused her cause. She brought Athenais to Constantinople, where another aunt dwelt, and made arrangements for the maiden to bring suit against the hard-hearted brothers. To influence the decision, Athenais and her aunt obtained audience with Pulcheria, and thus the link was formed which joined the destinies of the young emperor and the hapless orphan.
The youthful plaintiff was her own advocate, and so effectually did she argue her case that the Augusta, charmed by the penetration and cleverness which her speech revealed, as well as by the wonderful beauty and modest demeanor of the maiden, was irresistibly forced to the conviction that this girl was the very one who embodied the ideals and longings of the young prince. And, in fact, Athenais was physically and intellectually endowed in a manner seldom equalled. Imagine a maiden of tall and slender proportions of figure, of rare perfection of form, of fair complexion, of dark and luminous eyes which revealed the sweetness and subtlety of the spirit within, while the perfect outline of the countenance was framed by a luxuriant abundance of golden locks,--and you have some conception of the stranger who stood with queenly grace before the proud Augusta. Furthermore, every word that she uttered revealed the rare subtlety of understanding or warmth of sensibilities of the petitioner, who was in every regard the perfect picture of a symmetrically developed maiden. So soon as Pulcheria ascertained that Athenais was of good family and was still unmarried, she began to carry out her plans as a royal matchmaker. She aroused the curiosity of her brother by her account of the charms of the Greek maiden, and the recital inspired in the young prince a lively impatience to see Athenais. He besought his sister to arrange an opportunity for him, unobserved, to see the maiden, and Pulcheria readily devised a plan. After having concealed Theodosius and Paulinus behind the tapestries in her apartment, she summoned Athenais to come to her for a further interview. Athenais entered the room, and the young men were so charmed by the view that Theodosius, enamored of the maiden at first sight, desired to make her his bride.
What must have been the emotions of the disinherited orphan, when the Augusta, instead of granting her petition, told her that she was chosen to be the bride of an emperor? Only one obstacle to the union presented itself,--the pagan faith of the beautiful Athenian. While winning her heart for himself, the pious Theodosius longed to win her soul for the Saviour. To the patriarch Atticus was assigned the pleasing task of convincing the beautiful maiden of the errors of paganism and of guiding her spirit into the ways of eternal truth. The pure heart of the gentle Athenais proved readily susceptible to the beauties of Christian teaching; the waters of baptism were supposed to remove from her nature the last vestiges of pagan unbelief; and in accordance with the wishes of her betrothed, the converted Athenais received the baptismal name of Eudocia.
Finally, on June 7, 421, the royal nuptials were celebrated with great pomp, amid the rejoicings of the populace. The prudent Pulcheria, however, withheld from the bride of the emperor the title of Augusta until the union was blessed by the birth of a daughter, who was named Eudoxia, after her grandmother, and who, fifteen years later, became the wife of Valentinian III., ruler of the Western Empire.
The brothers of Eudocia richly deserved the resentment of the new empress. They had fled from Athens when they heard of the elevation of their despised sister, but she had them sought out and brought to Constantinople. They entered into her presence trembling and disconcerted; but instead of punishing them, as they felt they well deserved, Eudocia received them in a friendly manner and forgave them for their base conduct. Regarding them as the unconscious instruments of her elevation, the new empress gave them part in some of the highest offices of state.
Having become a Christian, Eudocia dedicated her talents to the honor of religion and to the glory of her husband. She indited religious poems which were the admiration of the age. She composed a poetical paraphrase of the five books of Moses, of Joshua, Judges, and Ruth, and of the prophecies of Daniel and Zechariah. She devoted three books of verse to the legend of Saint Cyprian, who was a martyr in the persecution inaugurated by Diocletian. She wrote a panegyric on the Persian victories of Theodosius; and there is extant from her pen a cento of Homeric verse treating the life and miracles of Christ. She also manifestly exerted a strong influence in the founding of the University of Constantinople, if we judge from the preponderance of Greek chairs. She also encouraged in every manner the cultivation of Greek letters; and the support she gave to Greek poets and litterateurs gave umbrage to the narrow religionists, who regarded everything Greek as pagan.
Eudocia, by her beauty and sprightliness, rapidly gained an ascendancy over the weak but noble-hearted emperor, who had now two masters, his sister and his wife. The new empress, in spite of her devotion to religion, still retained some pagan leanings, and the monastic life of the court began to undergo a change. Both the empress--sister and the empress--wife were ladies of strong will, and Eudocia by degrees became less sensitive to the gratitude she owed Pulcheria because of her elevation. Hence, as each of the Augustæ endeavored to have her own way, there arose discord in the imperial family. Intriguing courtiers and bishops knew how to take advantage of the division of sentiment in the royal household, and, while there was no public outbreak, the wheels of government did not run so smoothly as when Pulcheria held uncontested sway. The rivalry and dissension in the court between the two empresses showed itself particularly in the religious controversies of the time, and especially in the so-called Nestorian heresy regarding the dual nature of Christ. Pulcheria throughout was opposed to Nestorianism, as to every doctrine which flavored of Greek metaphysics, while Eudocia is credited with being an advocate of the new doctrine. Cyril, the bishop of Alexandria and the principal opponent of Nestorius, left no stone unturned to win the favor and support of Pulcheria, while ecclesiastics of the opposite party doubtless attempted the same with Eudocia.
The result of this conflict of opinion between the rival empresses was that the policy of Theodosius was always wavering; he was consistent neither in orthodoxy nor heterodoxy. At first a partisan of Nestorius, he responded rather sharply to the appeals of Cyril; but he afterward went over entirely to the opposite side--an indication that the influence of Pulcheria was once more paramount.
Thus passed the first decade and a half of Eudocia's reign. Finally in 438 occurred an event of momentous interest to the entire Roman world--the marriage of the princess Eudoxia with Valentinian III., Emperor of the West. As it seemed likely that Eudocia would never bear a son to Theodosius, the union of the two reigning houses meant possibly the reunion of the Empire under one emperor, should a son be born to the newly married couple. Possibly feeling lonely after the marriage and departure of her daughter; possibly tiring of the intrigues of the court, Eudocia, with the concurrence of the emperor, shortly afterward undertook a solemn pilgrimage to Jerusalem to discharge her vows and to return thanks to the Deity for the welfare of her daughter.
Attended by a royal cortege of courtiers and eunuchs and slaves, the Empress Eudocia set out on her journey. Her ostentatious progress through the East hardly seems in keeping with the spirit of Christian humility. One of the most impressive events of her journey was the sojourn in Antioch, the metropolis of the Far East. Here she pronounced to the senate, from a throne of gold, studded with precious gems, an eloquent Greek oration, which was regarded as a marvel of Hellenic rhetoric. In Antioch, probably far more than in Constantinople or Alexandria, there was a hearty appreciation of Greek culture and art, and many of the renowned rhetoricians of the day had in this city their lecture halls, to which thronged enthusiastic students; and to the most cultivated audience of the metropolis was granted the presence of an empress glorying in her Athenian nativity, trained in all the rhetorical art of the Greek, and combining in her own personality all that was most pleasing in both pagan and Christian culture. The last words of Eudocia's address--a quotation from Homer--are said to have occasioned prolonged applause:
ταύτης τοι γενεης τε και αιματος ευχομαι ειναι--Iliad Ζ 211.
"I boast to be of your own race and blood."
Eudocia was also generous in her gifts to the city. She induced the emperor to enlarge its walls, and herself bestowed upon it a donation of two hundred pounds of gold to restore the public baths. She graciously accepted the statues which were decreed to her in gratitude for her munificence--a statue of gold erected in the Curia, and one of bronze in the museum. To the empress, with her earlier love of the sacred traditions of the city of the violet crown, her enthusiastic reception in the most thoroughly Hellenized city of the Orient must have been a most gratifying occurrence.
From Antioch the empress probably followed the pilgrims highway to the Holy Land. There with doubly chastened soul the cultivated convert visited the places hallowed by the Saviour's sufferings and glory. From Bethlehem, where the Mother found shelter in a stable, and therein "in a manger laid" the newborn Redeemer, to receive the adoration of the shepherds, on through the country which the Lord travelled in His mission, till finally she beheld Mount Calvary and looked upon the place of the Sepulchre, now marked by the Christian temple raised by Helena. Her presence brings to mind the visit of this Helena, the Emperor Constantine's mother, one hundred years before, but the Greek matron must have beheld it with very different emotions. She had been reared in the philosophers' gardens of Athens, amid the glories of the Parthenon and the many wonderful works of art which the Greek genius had created, and in her new home in Constantinople she had not been altogether weaned from the traditions of her youth. In glowing contrast to ancient Athens she now saw a city whose prized monuments were the chapels erected on spots rendered sacred by the footsteps of the Christ and the relics of saints and martyrs. To this city she came as a Christian pilgrim, and her devoutness of spirit showed that her heathen culture, in which she took a pardonable pride, had been consecrated to the religion she professed, and her endeavor to relieve the sufferings of the poor and the unfortunate proved that she had learned the lesson of caring for others from the example of the Master.
Her alms and pious foundations in the Holy Land exceeded even those of the great Helena; and the destitute of the land had reason to be grateful to the empress for her unbounded liberality. In return for her zeal, she had the conscious satisfaction of returning to Constantinople with some of the most sacred relics of the Church--the chains of Saint Peter, the relics of Saint Stephen, and a portrait of the Virgin Mary, reputed to be from the brush of Saint Luke. The first martyr's relics were deposited with great ceremony in the chapel of Saint Laurence, and the piety of the empress won for her the loving admiration of the devout populace.
But this pilgrimage to Jerusalem, with its many tokens of the affection of her subjects, and her triumphal return to the capital city, marks the termination of the glory of the Athenian maiden as empress of the East. Then began the rivalries and conflicts which finally brought about Eudocia's downfall. To understand these we must first of all take into consideration the difference of temperament of the two empresses. Pulcheria was essentially Roman; Eudocia was essentially Greek. Pulcheria belonged to the orthodox party which strictly condemned everything which savored in the least degree of paganism; Eudocia encouraged Greek art and letters and lent a friendly ear to the heresies which were the product of Greek speculation. Pulcheria was puritanical and austere in her manner of life, while Eudocia had a fondness for dress and for the innocent gayeties of life which characterized the women of her race. It was utterly impossible for two women of such marked difference of temperament to live in perfect harmony under the same roof.
Furthermore, during Eudocia's absence a new factor had entered prominently into the life of the palace. The influence of the eunuchs, which had been so marked during the reign of Arcadius, had not made itself felt during the earlier years of Theodosius's reign, because of the ascendency of the two women, but it gathered strength by degrees as years passed. Antiochus was the first chamberlain to make himself powerful, and upon his fall, the eunuch Chrysaphius, because of his personal beauty and winning manner, won the favor of Theodosius and acquired the art of bending the emperor to his will. Chrysaphius knew also how to play the two empresses off against each other, so as to gain his own ends.
It seems altogether probable that immediately after her return from Jerusalem, the spouse of the emperor more than ever dominated the court at Constantinople. An important indication of this was the prominence of one of her favorites during the years 439-441--Cyrus of Panopolis, who was a poet of renown, a "Greek" in faith, and a student of art and literature. He won great popularity during his long tenure of office as prefect of the city. He restored Constantinople on so magnificent a scale, after it had experienced a disastrous earthquake, that the people once cried out in the circus: "Constantine built the city, but Cyrus renewed it."
The type of culture represented by Cyrus and Eudocia, and the manifest sympathy between them, greatly offended the strictly orthodox, who regarded it in the light of a Christian duty to sever all connection with paganism, and who considered all tolerance of the Muses and Graces of a more beautiful past to be a heinous sin. This religious party found their ideal and their inspiration in Pulcheria, and she in consequence became their natural leader. Hence, both their natural proclivities and the zeal of their followers forced the two empresses into an attitude of rivalry which could only be settled by the retirement or fall of one or the other of them.
Shortly after her return it seems that Eudocia, in union with Chrysaphius, succeeded in lessening the influence of Pulcheria. So thoroughly did she control her weak but fond husband that Pulcheria withdrew from the palace to the retirement of her villa at Hebdomon, and it has even been asserted that Theodosius, at the request of his wife, meditated making his sister take orders as a deaconess, so that she would have to relinquish her secular power. Thus for a time Eudocia experienced the keen delight of sole and uncontested power. But the retirement of the Augusta, who had for so many years exercised the paramount influence in the court, was the very step to arouse the orthodox and to lead them to undertake every form of intrigue for the ruin of Eudocia and the return of Pulcheria. The result was that, after enjoying for a brief period the sole supremacy, Eudocia fell from the loftiest heights of supreme authority into the deepest depths of humiliation and sorrow.
The orthodox party, with a cleverness which discounted the aims of the nobility, utilized the jealousy of Theodosius as the lever to overturn the beautiful and talented empress. Paulinus had been the boyhood friend of Theodosius, and their intimacy had grown with the passing of the years. He had ardently approved the prince's determination to make the Athenian maiden his wife, and had acted as his best man in the wedding festivities. Owing to the affectionate relations between the two men, Paulinus had enjoyed a free association with both emperor and empress, unhindered by the restricting bonds of court etiquette; and his relations with Eudocia were always of the most friendly and open-hearted character. These relations the enemies of Eudocia seized upon for the attainment of their ends, and their attempt succeeded only too well. It is fitting to tell the story in the words of John Malalas, the earliest chronicler who records it:
"It so happened," says the chronicler, "that as the Emperor Theodosius was proceeding to the churchIn Sanctis Theophaniis, the master of offices, Paulinus, being indisposed on account of an ailment in his foot, remained at home and made an excuse. But a certain poor man brought to Theodosius a Phrygian apple, of enormously large size, and the emperor was surprised at it, and all his court. And straightway the emperor gave one hundred and fifty nomismata to the man who brought the apple, and sent it to Eudocia Augusta; and the Augusta sent it to Paulinus, the master of offices, as being a friend of the emperor. But Paulinus, not being aware that the emperor had sent it to the empress, took it and sent it to the Emperor Theodosius, even as he was entering the palace. And when the emperor received it, he recognized it and concealed it. And having called Augusta, he questioned her, saying:
"'Where is the apple that I sent you?' And she said, 'I ate it.'--Then he caused her to swear the truth by his salvation, whether she ate it or sent it to some one; and she swore, 'I sent it unto no man, but ate it.' And the emperor commanded the apple to be brought, and showed it to her. And he was indignant against her, suspecting that she was enamored of Paulinus, and sent him the apple and denied it. And on this account Theodosius put Paulinus to death. And the Empress Eudocia was grieved, and thought herself insulted, for it was known everywhere that Paulinus was slain on account of her, for he was a very handsome young man. And she asked the emperor that she might go the holy place to pray; and he allowed her; and she went down from Constantinople to Jerusalem to pray."
In the opinion of Gregorovius, Eudocia's apple of Phrygia eludes interpretation as completely as Eve's apple of Eden, but Bury explains the story as an example of Oriental metaphor. He recalls a parallel to it in the Arabian Nights, and fancies that its germ may have been an allegorical mode of expression in which someone covertly told the story of the suspected intrigue. In Hellenistic romance the apple was a conventional love gift, and when presented to a man by a woman signified a declaration of love. Hence, as the basis of the tale was presumed to be the amorous intercourse of Paulinus and the empress, we can conceive one accustomed to Oriental allegory saying or writing that Eudocia had given her precious apple to Paulinus, symbolizing thereby that she had surrendered her chastity.
Such is the legend of the fall of the empress. All we know for certain is that about this time a marked discord between husband and wife was apparent, and that Paulinus, the emperor's boyhood friend and most trusted confidant, was put to death by imperial order during the year 440.
History seems entitled to draw the conclusion that it was probably a charge, whether true or false, of a criminal attachment between Eudocia and Paulinus that led to the disgrace of the empress and the execution of the minister; but the probabilities are all in favor of the innocence of the Augusta. Eudocia had passed the age of forty when the breach with her husband occurred, and Paulinus was an official of mature years. The conduct of both had always been above reproach, and it was almost inconceivable that either would have acted unbecomingly at this late date.
For two or three years after the execution of Paulinus the empress remained at court, under what circumstances and in just what relation to the emperor we are not informed. It is evident, however, that her power was gone. Feeling herself more and more relegated to the background, and ever watched by hostile eyes, it was natural that she should find life at Constantinople unbearable, and should long for a place where, far from the turmoils and intrigues of the world, she might devote herself to retirement and to pious practices. She therefore asked permission of the emperor to be allowed to retire to Jerusalem and there pass the rest of her life. After the tender bond of love which had for twenty years united the Athenian maiden and the royal prince had once been violently broken, there was no reason why her petition should be denied, and Eudocia was granted the privilege of retiring to the sacred scenes whose solitude and religious atmosphere had already appealed to her.
So, some years after her first visit to the holy city, Eudocia withdrew thither for a permanent abode. But what a contrast had a few years wrought! With what different emotions did she now visit the sacred shrines! Then a beloved wife, a happy mother, an all-puissant empress! Now a voluntary exile, a discredited wife, an empress but in name! Theodosius left her her royal honors and abundant means for her station, so that she could not only have a moderate establishment at Jerusalem, but could also adorn the city with charitable institutions. Yet even here the hatred of her enemies and the jealousy of the emperor followed her. Though so far from Constantinople, court spies watched and reported her every movement, and in their malignity they recounted to the emperor such a slanderous picture of her life and doings that he, in the year 444, with newly awakened jealousy, had two holy men--the presbyter Severus and the deacon John, who had been favorites of Eudocia in Constantinople and had followed her to Jerusalem--executed by the order of Saturninus, her chamberlain. This cruel deed, however, did not remain unavenged, for Eudocia did not interfere when Saturninus, in a monkish riot, or at the hands of hired murderers, lost his life. Theodosius punished her for this with undue severity, by removing all the officers who attended her and reducing her to private station.
The remainder of the life of Eudocia, sixteen long years, was spent in retirement and in holy exercises. Troubles heaped themselves upon her. Her only daughter, whose future at her marriage with Valentinian had looked so promising, also lost her royal station and was led a captive from Rome to Carthage. She had to endure all the insults which could fall to one who from supreme power had been reduced to private station. But in the consolation of religion and in self-sacrificing devotion to others more unfortunate, Eudocia found solace in her grief. Finally, in the sixty-seventh year of her age, after experiencing all the vicissitudes of human life, the philosopher's daughter expired at Jerusalem, protesting with her dying breath her faithfulness to her marriage vows and expressing forgiveness of all those who had injured her.
In Constantinople, Eudocia's fall and exile had brought Pulcheria and the orthodox party again to the front. The poetry-loving Cyrus, the head of the Greek party, was deprived of his office and compelled to take orders; and there was a return to the austerity which had characterized the earlier years of Pulcheria's supremacy. Pulcheria and orthodoxy from this time on controlled the court life and dominated the Empire. Finally, in 450, Theodosius was fatally wounded while hunting, and upon his demise Pulcheria was unanimously proclaimed Empress of the East. Her first official act was one of popular justice as well as private revenge--the execution of the crafty and rapacious eunuch, Chrysaphius. In obedience to the murmur of the people, who objected to a woman being sole ruler of the Empire, she selected an imperial consort in Marcian, an aged senator who would respect the virginal vows and superior rank of his wife. He was solemnly invested with the imperial purple, and proved in every way equal to the demands of his exalted station.
Three years later, Pulcheria passed away. Because of her austerity of life, her deeds of charity, her advocacy of orthodoxy, she won the eulogies of the Church; but her controlling attribute had been a love of power, which had wrought much evil. Our sympathies are naturally with the beautiful and gifted Athenais, a Greek by birth, by temperament and by culture, but yet a Christian in religious fervor and pious practices, whose personal fascination had given her the authority she richly merited, until the stronger nature of Pulcheria, by despicable means, had wrought her downfall.
For four years after the death of Pulcheria, Marcian continued to hold supreme power; finally, in 457, he too came to his end, and with Marcian the house of Theodosius the Great ceased to reign in new Rome.
There are few stranger episodes in literary history than the fate of Theodora, the celebrated consort of the Emperor Justinian. To us in this day she is a Magdalene elevated to the throne of the Cæsars, a beautiful and licentious actress suddenly raised by a freak of fortune to rule the destinies of the Roman Empire. All this is due to the remarkable discovery made by Nicholas Alemannus, librarian of the Vatican, toward the end of the seventeenth century, of the Secret History of Procopius, a work which purported to reveal the private life of the Byzantine court in the days of Justinian. Before the publication of this work Theodora was in public opinion chiefly remarkable for the prominent place she occupied in Justinian's reign. Of her early life nothing was known, but from the date of her accession to the throne she had exercised a sovereign influence over the emperor. In an important crisis she had exhibited admirable firmness and courage. She had taken an active part in the court intrigues and religious controversies of the epoch, and to her sagacity the emperor attributed many of his happiest inspirations in legislation. The ecclesiastical historians accused her of serious lapses into heresy and of having laid violent hands on the sacred person of a pope; but, with all their vituperation, there never was in circulation a calumny affecting her personal character. Such is a brief resume of the history of Theodora as handed down unassailed for a thousand years.
Then suddenly a startling revelation was made to the world concerning the previously unknown period of Theodora's life. Alemannus disinterred from the archives of the Vatican library, where it had long lain forgotten, an Arcana Historia which purported to be from the pen of the celebrated historian of the Wars and the Edifices of Justinian. Edited with a learned commentary by a hostile critic, the work immediately attained wide circulation and universal credence. For the first time the character of the illustrious empress was presented in the blackest colors. The world, it seemed, had been really mistaken in its estimate. Theodora's antecedents and early life had been of the vilest character, and her public life signalized by cruelty, avarice, and excess. From the date of the publication of thischronique scandaleuse, and thanks to Gibbon's trenchant paraphrase of its vilest sections, Theodora was condemned. Her name became the connotation for all the depraved vices known in high life. The silence of eleven centuries was overlooked, and the garish picture of the Secret History has formed the modern world's estimate of Rome's most illustrious empress.
It becomes, therefore, an important problem to attempt to distinguish the Theodora of history from the Theodora of romance. We must inquire whether the startling "anecdotes" of theSecret Historyjustly supersede the estimate and tradition of so long a period. Was Theodora the grand courtesan she is represented to be in the modern drama, or was she a great empress, worthy of the respect and admiration of Justinian and of succeeding ages? To answer these questions we must first briefly review the legendary history of Theodora, and then dwell more at length on the authentic history of the empress. This will merit a recital, for she appears to be a personality singularly original and powerful, possessing both the qualities of a statesman and the unique traits of a woman, a character of much complexity and of rare psychological interest. During the first years of the sixth century there lived in Constantinople a poor man, by name Acacius, a native of the isle of Cyprus, who had the care of the wild beasts maintained by the green faction of the city, and who, from his employment, was entitled the Master of the Bears. This Acacius was the father of Theodora. Upon his death, he left to the tender mercies of the world a widow and three helpless orphans, Comito, Theodora, and Anastasia, the eldest being not yet seven years of age. At a solemn festival these three children were sent by their destitute mother into the theatre, dressed in the garb of suppliants. The green faction scorned them; but the blues had compassion and relieved their distress, and this difference of treatment made a profound impression on the child Theodora, which had its influence on her later conduct. As the maidens increased in age and improved in beauty, they were trained by their mother for a theatrical career. Theodora first followed Comito on the stage, playing the rôle of chambermaid, but at length she exercised her talents independently. She became neither a singer nor a dancer nor a flute player, but she figured in thetableaux Vivants, where her beauty freely displayed itself, and in the pantomimes, where her vivacity and grace and sprightliness caused the whole theatre to resound with laughter and applause. She was, if the panegyrists may be believed, the most beautiful woman of her age. Procopius, the best historian of the day, says that "it was impossible for mere man to describe her comeliness in words or to imitate it in art." "Her features were delicate and regular; her complexion, though somewhat pale, was tinged with a natural colour; every sensation was instantly expressed by the vivacity of her eyes; her easy motions displayed the graces of a small but elegant figure; and either love or adulation might proclaim that painting and poetry were incapable of delineating the matchless excellence of her form." It is unfortunate that we have no likeness which portrays her exquisite beauty. The famous mosaic in San Vitale at Ravenna is the best authentic representation of the empress, but a mosaic can give but little idea of the original.
But Theodora possessed other fascinations besides beauty: she was intelligent, full ofesprit, witty. However, with all these gifts there was in her a deficiency of the moral sense and a natural inclination to pleasure in all its forms. Sad to relate, her charms were venal. If the Secret History be believed, her adventures were both numerous and scandalous; to quote a piquant expression of Gibbon, "her charity was universal." Procopius recounts memorable after-theatre suppers andtableaux vivantsthat would be excluded from the most licentious of modern stages. After a wild career in the capital as the reigning figure of the demi-monde, Theodora suddenly disappeared. She condescended to accompany to his province a certain Ecebolus, who had been appointed governor of the African Pentapolis. But this union was transient. She either abandoned her lover or was deserted by him, and for some time the fair Cyprian, a veritable priestess of the divine Aphrodite, made conquests innumerable in all the great cities of the Orient. Finally, she returned to Constantinople, to the scenes of her first exploits, being then between twenty and twenty-five years of age. In her bitterest humiliation, some vision had whispered to her that she was destined to a great career.
Wearied of amorous adventures and of a wandering career, she began from this moment to adopt a retired and blameless life in a modest mansion, where she relieved her poverty by the feminine task of spinning wool. It was at this moment that happy chance threw the patrician Justinian in her path. Captivated by her beauty and her feminine graces, this staid, business-like, and eminently practical personage, already marked as his uncle Justin's successor to the Empire, wished to make the fair Theodora his wife. But there were obstacles in the way. The Empress Euphemia flatly refused to accept the reformed courtesan as a niece; Justinian's own mother, Vigilantia, feared that the vivacious and beautiful worldling would corrupt her son. It was even said that at this time the laws of Rome prohibited the marriage of a senator with a woman of servile origin or of the theatrical profession. But Justinian remained inflexible. The Empress Euphemia conveniently died; Justinian overrode the opposition of his mother; and Justin was persuaded to pass a law abolishing the rigid statute of antiquity and to make Theodora a patrician.
Soon followed the solemn nuptials of Justinian and Theodora; and when, in 527, Justinian was officially associated with his uncle on the throne, Theodora was also solemnly crowned in Saint Sophia by the hands of the Patriarch as an equal and independent colleague in the sovereignty of the Empire, and the oath of allegiance was imposed on bishops and officials in the joint names of Justinian and Theodora; while in the Hippodrome, the scene of her earlier triumphs, the daughter of Acacius received as empress the adulation of the populace.
Such, according to the Secret History, is the romance of Theodora. The reason why it has been given general credence is because the work purported to be that of a contemporary writer, the greatest historian of his age, who has weighted his charges with emphasis and detail, and because the recital received the convincing endorsement of Alemannus and of Gibbon. The principle which governed Gibbon was as follows: "Of these strange anecdotes a part may be true because probable, and a part true because improbable. Procopius must have known the former and the latter he could scarcely invent." Reassured by this argument, and seduced by the masculine taste for adventure, most historians have complacently accepted this piquant history and have applied to Theodora the vilest epithets. But recent writers, especially Debidour, Ranke, Mallet, Bury, and Diehl, have not regarded the case as proved, and through a careful analysis of theSecret Historyhave presented convincing arguments against the reputed authorship of the work and the authenticity of its narrative.
These later writers have called attention to the internal evidence of the improbability of the picture of Theodora. There are in the statements glaring inconsistencies with the other works of Procopius, and inconsistencies within the anecdotes themselves. Many stories told of Justinian are obviously overdrawn and dictated by inventive malice, and these vitiate the entire narrative. Furthermore, the question of the marriage law is triumphantly set aside. The edict abolishing the Old Roman law was passed seven years after Justinian's succession, and was in accordance with other legislation inspired by Theodora, to ameliorate the condition of woman. The external evidence, also, has been carefully sifted. The legal maxim,Testis unus, Testis nullus, applies in history as well as in law. A single witness has related the most incredible stories. Nowhere in other historians is there a shred of evidence to support the story of Theodora's flagitious life. These stories could have no basis other than in popular rumors; how is it, therefore, that no other chronicle alludes to them? Orthodox ecclesiastics violently attack Theodora's heresy, and speak of her as an enemy of the Church, but write not a word against her private reputation. Historians condemn in unmeasured terms certain features of Justinian's administration, and dwell on other faults of Theodora, but say never a word about her profligacy. Why are all other writers silent about the dark passages in Theodora's history? Even theSecret Historyalleges nothing immoral against her after her marriage: why then should we take its testimony seriously regarding the earlier period of her life? The silence of all other chronicles about extraordinary occurrences, which, if true, must have been generally known, throws doubt over the whole narrative and places it in the light of an infamous libel.
And here is a final argument. Justinian was no mere youth when he married, but a sober gentleman of thirty-five, the heir apparent to the throne, who had to keep in the good graces of the people. Would he at so momentous a time have perpetrated so infamous a scandal? And would it have been possible for a woman of such notorious profligacy to ascend the throne without a protest from patriarch or bishop or senators or populace? The outward life of the Byzantine people, owing to the influence of Christianity, was usually correct. A little later an emperor lost his throne because he divorced one wife and took another. Theodora's triumphant ascent to the throne, without a protesting voice, is conclusive evidence that no great scandal had sullied her reputation.
Yet, on the other hand, panegyrists never lauded Theodora as a saint. She was neither a Pulcheria nor a Eudocia. Many traits in the character of the empress accord well with the fact that her early life was not passed amid beds of roses nor had been altogether free from temptation. Hence, with the story reduced to its lowest terms, it seems probable that Theodora was of obscure and lowly origin, that she was for a time connected in some way with the Byzantine stage, and that, owing to her beauty, her cleverness, and her strong personality, she was raised from poverty to share Justinian's throne. But, whatever her career, her life had been sufficiently upright to save appearances, and Justinian could make her his wife without scandal.
The turn of fortune which elevated Theodora from modest station to the imperial throne deeply stirred the popular imagination, and a cycle of legends has gathered about her name. The stranger in Byzantium in the eleventh century was shown the site of a modest cottage, transformed into a stately church dedicated to the spirit of charity, and was told the story how the great empress, coming with her parents from their native town in Cyprus, had here maintained herself in honorable poverty by spinning wool, and how it was here that the patrician Justinian, drawn thither by the fame of her beauty and her learning, had wooed and won her for his bride. However little value we may attach to this tradition, it shows that in Constantinople the popular estimate of Theodora was not that of theSecret History. The Slavic traditions of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries not only dwell on her marvellous beauty, but also recount that she was the most queenly, the most cultivated, the most learned of women. The Syriac traditions were still more flattering. In their devout reverence for the pious empress who espoused their cause, these Monophysites of the thirteenth century name as the father of Theodora, not the poor man who guarded the bears in the Hippodrome, but a pious old gentleman, perhaps a senator, attached to the Monophysite heresy, and affirm that when Justinian, fascinated by the beauty and intelligence of the young maiden, demanded her hand in marriage, the good father did not consent that she should marry the heir apparent until the latter had promised not to interfere with her religious beliefs.
A western chronicler, however, of the eleventh century, Aimoin de Fleury, recounts a legend which has something of the flavor of theSecret History. According to this story, Justinian and Belisarius, two young men and intimate friends, encountered one day two sisters, Antonia and Antonina, sprung from the race of Amazons, who, taken prisoners by the Byzantines, were reduced to dire straits. Belisarius was enamored of the latter, Justinian of the former. Antonia, presaging the future destiny of her lover, made him promise that, if ever he became emperor, he would take her as his wife. Their relations were interrupted, but not before Justinian gave to Antonia a ring, as an assurance of his promise. Years passed: the prince became emperor; and one day there appeared at the gate of the palace, demanding audience, a woman in rich attire and of wonderful beauty. Presented before the sovereign, Antonia was not at first recognized; but she showed the ring and recalled his promise, and Justinian, his love for her renewed, proclaimed straightway the beautiful Amazon as his empress. The people and the senate expressed some surprise at the impromptu marriage, but Antonia shared without protest the throne of Justinian.
Thus the marvellous destiny of Theodora was embellished by legend and romance, and, whether good or bad, severely correct or profligate, she has become one of the most remarkable figures of history and fiction.
Questions as to the early life of Theodora, however, are secondary in importance. We are interested not in the courtesan but in the empress, and, for the incidents and the influence of her reign, we have fortunately other information than that of theSecret History.
Sardou's drama Theodora represents its heroine as preserving on the throne the manners of the courtesan, as delighting in the life of the theatre, as leaving the palace by night to frequent the streets of Constantinople, as having an amorous intrigue with the beautiful Andreas, as being in fact another, but baser and more voluptuous, Messalina. But even theSecret Historyrepresents Theodora, after she mounted the throne, as being, with all her faults, the most austere, the most correct, the most irreproachable of women in her conjugal relations.
Whatever her origin and her early life, Theodora adapted herself most readily to the status and the duties of an imperial sovereign. She loved and partook fully of the amenities which attended supreme authority. In her apartments of the royal palace, and in her sumptuous villas and gardens on the Propontis and the Bosporus, she availed herself of all the luxuries and refinements of the royal station. Ever womanly and vain of her physical charms, she took extreme care of her beauty. To make her countenance reposeful and delicate, she prolonged her slumbers until late in the morning; to give her figure sprightliness and grace, she took frequent baths, to which succeeded long hours of repose. Not content with the meagre fare which satisfied Justinian, her table was always supplied with the best of Oriental dishes, which were served with exquisite and delicate taste. Every wish was immediately gratified by her favorite ladies and eunuchs. Like a true parvenue, she delighted in the elaborate court etiquette. She made the highest dignitaries prostrate themselves before her, imposing on those who wished audience long and humiliating delays. Every morning one could see the most illustrious personages of Byzantium crowded in her antechamber like a troop of slaves, and, when they were admitted to kiss the feet of Theodora, their reception depended altogether upon the humor of the moment. These details show with what facility, with what complaisance, Theodora adapted herself to the conditions of her rank.
One must not infer, however, that the Theodora of history was a woman merely captivated by the outward pomp of royalty. She possessed all the intellectual and moral gifts which should attend absolute power, and her rigid enforcement of Oriental etiquette was merely to impress upon others her supreme authority, and was in conformity to the demand of her age. Her salient characteristics were a spirit despotic and inflexible, a will strong and passionate, an intelligence clever and subtle, a temperament by turns frigid and sympathetic; and by these gifts she dominated Justinian without intermission from the moment of her marriage to her death, and impressed upon all those about her the knowledge that she was in every sense an absolute sovereign.
Furthermore, she possessed a calm courage, a masculine inflexibility, which showed itself in the most difficult circumstances. One can never forget the most ominous moment in the history of the Eastern Empire, when the courage and firmness of Theodora saved the throne of Justinian. This was during the celebrated revolt of 532, known as "The Nika Riot." The factions of the "Blues" and the "Greens" were really the political parties of the day; irritated to madness by the oppression of certain officials, they momentarily united their forces and raised an insurrection against the government, choosing Nika (Conquer!) as their watchword, which has become the technical designation of the riot. During five days, the city was a scene of conflict and witnessed all the horrors of street warfare. Justinian yielded so far as to depose the obnoxious officials, but the secret machinations of the "Green" faction, who wished to place on the throne a nephew of Anastasius, a former emperor, kept up the conflict. On the fateful morning of the 19th of January, Hypatius, one of the nephews of Anastasius, was publicly crowned in the Forum of Constantinople, and was then seated in the cathisma of the Hippodrome, where the rebels and the populace saluted him as emperor. Meanwhile, Justinian shut himself up in the palace with his ministers and his favorites. Much of the city was in flames, the tumult outside grew ever louder, and the rebels were preparing for an attack on the palace. All seemed lost. The clamor of victory and the cries of "Death to Justinian," reached the hall where the emperor, utterly unnerved, was taking counsel of his ministers and generals. The prefect John of Cappadocia and the general Belisarius recommended flight to Heraclea. In haste, by the gardens which led to the sea, vessels were loaded with the imperial treasures, and all was ready for the instant flight of the emperor and empress. This was the decisive moment. Flight meant the safety of their persons, but the abandoned throne was surely lost, and the gigantic movements that had been started would collapse. The prince was hesitating, and all his counsellors shared his feebleness. Up to this time, the empress had said nothing. At length, indignant at the general languor, Theodora thus called to their duty the emperor and the ministers who would forsake all for personal safety:
"The present occasion is, I think, too grave to take regard of the principle that it is not meet for a woman to speak among men. Those whose dearest interests are in the presence of extreme danger are justified in thinking only of the wisest course of action. Now, in my opinion, Nature is an unprofitable tutor, even if her guidance bring us safety. It is impossible for a man when he has come into the world not to die; but for one who has reigned it is intolerable to be an exile. May I never exist without this purple robe, and may I never live to see the day on which those who meet me shall not address me as Queen. If you wish, O Emperor, to save yourself, there is no difficulty; we have ample funds. Yonder is the sea, and there are the ships. Yet reflect whether, when you have once escaped to a place of security, you will not prefer death to safety. I agree with an old saying that 'Empire is a fair winding-sheet.'"
By these courageous words the resolution of Theodora saved the throne of Justinian. Her firmness conquered the weakness and the pusillanimity of the court. Belisarius triumphantly led his forces against the revolutionists in the Hippodrome. A ruthless massacre followed, in which thirty-five thousand persons perished. The power of the factions was forever broken, and henceforth Justinian enjoyed absolute sovereignty without a protest. The important public buildings which had been destroyed in the conflagrations incident to the riot were restored on a more magnificent scale, and the still standing Saint Sophia is a monument to the genius and splendor of the reign of Justinian and Theodora.
One can readily understand what a dominating influence such a woman would maintain over the indecisive Justinian. The passion with which she had inspired the prince was preserved up to the last moment of her life; and his devotion and regard ever increased and after her death took the form of reverential awe, so influenced was he by her superior abilities. She was to him, in the words of a contemporary historian, "the sweetest charm"; or, as he himself says in a legal enactment, "the gift of God"--a play upon her name. After her death, when he would make a solemn promise, he swore by the name of Theodora. He withheld from her none of the emoluments, none of the realities, of joint and equal sovereignty: her name figured with his in the inscriptions placed upon the facades of churches or the gates of citadels; her image was associated with his in the decorations of the royal palace, as in the mosaics of San Vitale. Her name appeared by the side of his on the imperial seal. A multitude of cities and a newly created province bore her name. In every regard she shared the sovereignty with the emperor. Magistrates, bishops, generals, governors of provinces, swore by all that was sacred to render good and true service to the very pious and sacred sovereigns, Justinian and Theodora.
When Theodora journeyed, a royal cortege accompanied her, consisting of patricians, high dignitaries, and ministers, and an escort of four thousand soldiers as guard. Her orders were received with deference throughout the Empire; and when officials found them in contradiction with those of the emperor, they often preferred the instructions of Theodora to those of Justinian. Functionaries knew that her patronage assured a rapid promotion in royal power and that her good will was a guarantee against possible disgrace. Royal strangers sought to flatter her vanity and to win her good graces.
All the chroniclers record that in state papers on important affairs Theodora was the collaborator with Justinian. The emperor gladly acknowledged his indebtedness to her, and we read in one of his ordinances: "Having this time again taken counsel of the most sacred spouse whom God has given us...." Theodora likewise on occasion gave evidence of her authority. She once ordered Theodatus to submit to her the requests he wished to address to the emperor, and in a communication to the ministers of the Persian king, Chosroes, she stated: "The emperor never decides anything without consulting me." She was the regulating power in both State and Church, appointing or disgracing generals and ministers, making or unmaking patriarchs and pontiffs, raising to fortune her favorites, and unsettling the power and position of her opponents.
Theodora's comprehension of the necessities of imperial politics was something marvellous, and the wise moves of Justinian were due largely to her counsel. Yet, though so superb a queen, she was all the more a woman-fickle, passionate, avaricious of authority, and intensely jealous of preserving the power she had. Apparently without scruples, she would get rid of all influence which threatened to counterbalance her own, and she brushed aside without pity all opposition which seemed to infringe on her authority. In the intrigues of the palace she ever came off the victor. Vainly did favorites and ministers who fancied themselves indispensable attempt to ruin her credit with the emperor. The secretary Priscus, whom the favor of Justinian had raised to office as count of the bed-chamber, paid dearly for the insults which he addressed to Theodora. He was exiled, imprisoned, and finally driven to take orders, and his enormous fortune was confiscated.
The history of John of Cappadocia is more significant still; at the same time that it gives insight into the intrigues and plots of the Byzantine courts, it throws a glowing light on the ambitious nature, the unscrupulous energy, the vindictive spirit, and the perfidious cleverness of the Empress Theodora.
For six years John of Cappadocia occupied the exalted position of praetorian prefect, which made him at the same time minister of finance and minister of the interior, as well as the first minister of the Empire. By his vices, his harshness, and his corruption he justified the proverb:
"The Cappadocian is bad by nature; if he attains to power he is worse; but if he seeks to be supreme, he is the most detestable of all." But in the eyes of Justinian he had one redeeming virtue: he furnished to every request of the prince the funds which the vast expenditures of his reign demanded. At the price of what exactions, of what sufferings of his subjects, he obtained these admirable results, the emperor did not inquire, or perhaps he ignored these considerations. At all events, the prefect was a great favorite of the prince, and the court aides envied the success of his administration. Having a dominating influence over the emperor, possessing riches beyond the dreams of avarice, John attained to the very apex of fortune. Superstitious by nature, the promises of wizards had aroused in him the hope of attaining to the supreme power, as the colleague or successor of Justinian. As a step toward this he attempted to ruin the credit of Theodora with the emperor. This was an offence which the haughty empress could not pardon. The prefect was not ignorant how powerful an adversary he had aroused; but, conscious of his influence with the emperor and of the state of the finances which he alone could administer, he regarded himself as indispensable. But he did not correctly gauge the subtlety of Theodora. She first endeavored to convince the emperor of the sufferings which the prefect inflicted on his subjects and then to arouse his suspicions as to the dangers with which the throne was menaced by the ambition of John: but the emperor, like all feeble natures, hesitated to separate from himself a counsellor to whom by long habit and association he had become attached. Then Theodora conceived a Machiavelian plot.
Theodora's most intimate friend was Antonina, the wife of Belisarius, whom Procopius describes as a woman "more capable than anyone else to manage the impracticable." The two clever women devised an unscrupulous bit of strategy which, if successful, would surely cause the downfall of the much execrated minister of finance. Antonina, at Theodora's suggestion, cultivated the friendship of John's daughter, Euphemia, and intimated to her that her husband Belisarius was seriously disaffected toward the emperor, because of the poor requital which his distinguished services had received, but that he could not attempt to throw off the imperial yoke unless he was assured of the sympathy and support of some one of the important civil officials. Euphemia naturally told the news to her father, who, seeing in the circumstance an opportunity to ascend the throne with the aid of the powerful general, easily fell into the trap. To perfect the plot the Cappadocian arranged a secret interview at Rufinianum, one of the country seats of Belisarius. The empress arranged to have two faithful officials, Marcellus and Narses, concealed in the villa, with orders to arrest John if his treason became manifest, and, if he resisted, straightway to put him to death. They overheard the treasonable plot, but the minister succeeded in escaping arrest and fled to the inviolable asylum of Saint Sophia. He was, however, exiled in disgrace to Cyzicus; but the ruthless hatred of Theodora followed him, and, after all his ill-gotten gains had been confiscated, he was exiled to Egypt, where he remained until the death of the empress. He finally returned to Constantinople, but Justinian had no further need of the services of his quondam counsellor, and the latter, in the rude garb of a priest, died upon the scene of his former triumphs.
In her ruthless persecution of her opponents, as illustrated by this incident, there seems to have been in this remarkable woman a singular absence of the moral sense.
True it is that she passionately loved power and luxury and wealth; true, that she exercised her authority at times in a ruthless and unscrupulous manner. Yet the hardness of her nature is offset by many sympathetic qualities which show that, together with the sternness of an empress, she had the heart of a woman.
She showed a sympathetic interest in the welfare of her own family. She married her sister Comito to Sittas, an officer of high rank. Her niece Sophia was united in marriage with the nephew of Justin, heir presumptive to the Empire. All her life she regretted that she did not have a son to mount the throne: she had buried an infant daughter, the sole offspring of her marriage.
One of the most pleasing traits of her character was the large tolerance and substantial sympathy she showed to fallen women. Severe on men, she manifested for women a solicitude rarely equalled. On the Asiatic coast of the Bosporus she converted a palace into a spacious and stately monastery, known as the Convent of the Metanoia, or Repentance, and richly endowed it for the benefit of her less fortunate sisters who had been seduced or compelled to embrace the trade of prostitution. In this safe and holy retreat were gathered hundreds of women, collected from the streets and brothels of Constantinople; and many a hapless woman was filled with gratitude toward the generous benefactress who had rescued her from a life of sin and misery.
Are we to see in this tender solicitude an exemplification of the words of the poet,Non ignara mali miseris succurrere disco, or were her endeavors merely the outcome of the religious exaltation of a pure and noblewoman "naturally prone to succor women in misfortune," as a Byzantine writer says of her? At any rate, this practical sympathy exerted its influence also in enactments of the Justinian Code relating to women; such as the ordinance tending to increase the dignity of marriage and render it more indissoluble, or that to give to seduced maidens recourse against their seducers, or that to relieve actresses of the social disbarment which attended their calling. All these measures were doubtless due to the inspiration of Theodora.
She also carried her strict ideas as to the sanctity of marriage into the life of the court, as is shown by the manner in which she pitilessly spoiled the romance which would have united one of the most brilliant generals of the Empire to a niece of Justinian.
Præjecta, the emperor's niece, had fallen into the hands of Gontharis, a usurper who had slain her husband, Areobindus. She had given up all as lost when an unexpected savior appeared in the person of a handsome Armenian officer, Artabanes, the commander in Africa, who overthrew the usurper and restored her to liberty. From gratitude, Præjecta could refuse her deliverer nothing, and she promised him her hand. The ambitious Armenian saw in this brilliant marriage rapid promotion to the height of power. The princess returned to Constantinople, and the Count of Africa hastened to surrender his honorable office and sought a recall to Constantinople to join his prospective bride. He was lionized in the capital; his dignified demeanor, his burning eloquence and his unbounded generosity won the admiration of all. To remove the social distance between him and his fiancée he was loaded down with honors and dignities. All went well until an unexpected and troublesome obstacle to the nuptials presented itself. Artabanes had overlooked or forgotten the fact that years before he had espoused an Armenian lady. They had been separated a long time, and the warrior had never been heard to speak of her. So long as he was an obscure soldier his wife was contented to leave him in peace; but not so after his unexpected rise to fame. Suddenly she appeared in Constantinople, claiming the rights of a lawful spouse, and as a wronged woman she implored the sympathetic aid of Theodora.
The empress was inflexible when the sacred bonds of marriage were at stake, and she forced the reluctant general to renounce all claims to the princess and to take back his forsaken wife. By way of precaution, she speedily married Præjecta to John, the grandson of the emperor Anastasius, and the pretty romance was at an end.
With equal regard to the sanctity of marriage, Theodora employed numerous devices to reconcile Belisarius, the celebrated general, with his wife Antonina, to whom the scandal of theSecret Historyattributes serious lapses from moral rectitude, though the charge cannot be regarded as proved.
A portrait of the Byzantine empress would be incomplete if it did not speak of her religious sentiments and the prominent part she took in ecclesiastical politics. In religious matters we see not only the best side of Theodora's nature, but also the supreme exhibition of her influence in the affairs of the Empire. Like all the Byzantines of her time, she was pious and devoted in her manner of life. She was noted for her almsgiving and her contributions to the foundations established by the Church. Chroniclers cite the houses of refuge, the orphanages, and the hospitals founded by her; and Justinian, in one of his ordinances, speaks of the innumerable gifts which she made to churches, hospitals, asylums, and bishoprics.
Yet, in spite of these many exhibitions of inward piety, Theodora was strongly suspected by the orthodox of heresy. She professed openly the monophysite doctrine,--the belief in the one nature in the person of Jesus Christ. She also endeavored to bring Justinian to her view, and, with an eye to the interest of the state, she entered upon a course of policy which reconciled the schismatics--but disgusted the orthodox Catholics, who were in unison with Rome. The people of Syria and Egypt were almost universally Monophysites and Separatists. Theodora, with a political finesse far greater than that of her husband, saw that the discontent in the Orient was prejudicial to the imperial power, and she endeavored by her line of policy to reconcile the hostile parties and to reestablish religious peace in the Empire. She recognized that the centre of gravity of the government had passed permanently from Rome to Constantinople, and that consequently the best policy was to keep at peace the peoples of the East.
Justinian, on the other hand, misled by the grandeur of Roman tradition, wished to establish, through union with the Roman See, strict orthodoxy in the restored empire of the Cæsars. Theodora, with greater acumen, observed the irreconcilable lines of difference between East and West, and recognized that to proscribe the learned and powerful party of dissenters in the Orient would alienate important provinces and be fatal to the authority of the monarchy. She therefore threw her influence into the balance of heresy. She received the leaders of the Monophysites in the palace, and listened sympathetically to their counsels, their complaints, their remonstrances. She placed men of this faith in the most prominent patriarchal sees--Severius at Antioch, Theodosius at Alexandria, Anthimius at Constantinople. She transformed the palace on Hormisdas into a monastery for the persecuted priests of Syria and Asia. When Severius was subjected to persecution, she provided means for him to escape from Constantinople; and when Anthimius was deposed from the metropolitan see, she extended to him, in spite of imperial orders, her open protection, and gave him an asylum in the palace. Her boldest coup, however, consisted in placing on the pontifical seat at Rome a pope of her own choice, pledged to act with the Monophysites.
For this rôle she found the man in the Roman deacon Vigilius, for some years apostolic legate at Constantinople. Vigilius was an ambitious and clever priest who had won his way into the confidence of Theodora, and the empress thought to find in him, when elevated to the pontifical chair, a ready instrument for her purposes. It is recounted that, in exchange for the imperial protection and patronage, Vigilius engaged to reestablish Anthimius at Constantinople, to enter into a league with Theodosius and Severius, and to annul the Council of Chalcedon. Upon the death of the presiding pope, Agapetus, Vigilius set out for Rome with letters for Belisarius, who was then at the height of his power in Italy, and these letters were such that they did not admit of objection. Apparently, in this affair Justinian had secretly assented to the plans of the empress, seeing perhaps in the movement a solution which would bring about the unity which he desired and place the Roman pontiff in accord with the Orientals. But it was not without trouble that Vigilius was installed. Immediately upon the death of Agapetus, the Roman party had provided a successor in Silverius; and to seat Vigilius in the chair of Saint Peter, they must first make Silverius descend. Belisarius was charged with this repugnant task. With manifest reluctance, he undertook his part in the questionable intrigue. He first suggested to Silverius a dignified way of settling the affair by making the concessions which the emperor desired of Vigilius. Silverius indignantly refused to make any such compromise. Thereupon, under the imaginary pretext of treason, he was brutally arrested, deposed, and sent into exile. Vigilius was at once ordained pope in his stead. Theodora seemed to have conquered.