Chapter VI: The Coronation

It was just daybreak on a bright morning of the year 960 A.D., near the Hebdomon barracks, outside the walls of Constantinople; and a general movement towards the city could be seen on the shores of the Propontis. The sun was nearly risen over the eastern hills and was reflected in the smooth water of that inland sea. The harbor and shore were covered with gay sailing vessels and boats hurrying towards the city, of which the walls and towers were some three miles distant. From the circular castle of Cyclobion, half a mile nearer the city, were pouring forth masses of troops, both horse and foot, which were being marshalled in the broad exercising-ground that lay between Hebdomon and the city walls. At this moment two officers in resplendent array, mounted on light Arab chargers and followed by orderlies and grooms, issued from the huge gateway of the fortress and crossed the drawbridge into the road that led to the Golden Gate.

Both warriors wore the gilded cuirasses, greaves, and armlets of the imperial guard; their long lances and embossed shields were borne by their attendants. The elder, a dark and bronzed Armenian of mature age, was leading the way and explaining the concourse to his companion, an athletic, fair-haired youth from Norway. In truth, the young and noble Eric had been driven from his home by the conquering Dane, and had just found his way to friends among the Varangian guard to take service with the Byzantine Cæsar. His birth, reputation, and skill in arms had gained him a warm welcome, and Bardas Skleros, who was one of the veteran generals of the Eastern army, had taken him into favor and made him his aide-de-camp. To-day, the long-anticipated date fixed for the consecration of the new Basileus, Bardas had promised the Norwegian tyro to show him the capital and the army which he had just joined and to introduce him at court in person. The young hero, to whom all this splendor, pomp, and array were a dazzling novelty, strove hard not to betray by a look his wonder and admiration; while the politic chief sought in every way to arouse his curiosity and to fill his rude mind with a fitting awe.

As they rode past the long ranks of troops waiting their orders to join in the procession, each company and squadron in various equipments and from different nations, Bardas was received with salutes and cheers from the men whom he had often led to battle.

"These are our Dyrrhachian Highlanders," said the general, as they passed the huge mountaineers from the Dalmatian coast in their rough capotes and short claymores; "and next to them are companies from the Peloponnesian Islands. Next come the Patzinak foreigners, who have volunteered for service under our standard. See those giants there: they are Russ, who, dissatisfied with their own czar, have taken the oath to our lord."

"Are they all of different race, costume, weapon," said the puzzled lad, "for they seem to speak different tongues--not one of which can I understand or name?"

"Yes," said the Bardas, "for the ceremony of to-day they are purposely chosen from the various nations which fill our armies. All are Romans, all are sworn to die for our sovereign and august Basileus. But he never asks them to forsake their own tongue, nor their own accoutrements and arms, nor any of the habits to which they have been bred. Each company has its own chief and interpreter, and the word of command is given in the speech they love."

"Are they not all even worshippers of the Cross?" said the pious Eric, as he devoutly crossed himself. "Are they not so much as baptized?"

"Cæsar," said the general, with a dry smile, "is proud to know that they serve him with loyal faith to the last breath of their life. He knows that their souls are safe if they die in his service, for his service is the defence of the Church and the Cross. They have had their baptism of blood, and in good time they will have their baptism of water. Besides," he muttered between his teeth, "since these gallant fellows never converse with other regiments, they have no temptation to mutiny or intrigue. And since many of them have no occasion to call in a priest, they are never disturbed in mind by anything that happens in Church or State."

"The soldier of Rome," said Bardas, with a keen look into the eyes of his young friend, "has nothing to do with politicians or with monks. Discipline, obedience, fidelity make up his whole duty to God and man. His religion is to serve Rome and its divine autocrator!" Here a shout of welcome and a crashing salute of more than ordinary vigor surprised the young Norwegian, who noticed the gleam of pride that lighted up the general's face. "Ay," said Bardas, "these are my own Armenians, the brigade I raised in my native mountains. Did you ever see more likely-looking men-at-arms?"

And now, as they drew up near the walls, they saw the splendid array of the Varangian host, into which Eric had just been admitted, with their scale coats of mail and their terrific battle-axes, drawn up in line around the Golden Gate of triumph.

At last the young Scandinavian beheld that mighty range of fortifications stretching for some three miles from the Propontis to the Golden Horn--those historic walls of Constantinople which for a thousand years defied the onslaught of a series of invaders. The land walls of the city are still, even in their abandonment and ruin, the most impressive monument of its military skill that the ancient world has left us. In the tenth century they rose in three distinct lines of circumvallation, with broad causeways between each line and in front an immense moat more than sixty feet broad and some twenty feet deep. Each of the three lines of ramparts, which rose in increasing height, one behind the other, was surmounted by battlements, the two inner lines being strengthened by towers, also crowned with battlements and pierced with narrow embrasures. The towers of the wall rose to a height of fifty feet above the outer peribolos, or terrace, which separated the second from the outer wall. The last defence, the huge inmost wall, rose to a height of forty feet from the broad terrace which separated it from the middle wall. It had ninety-six tremendous towers at distances of one hundred and eighty feet apart, which rose to a height of sixty feet above the terrace, and thus were about one hundred feet above the level of the moat. The great inner wall was fifteen feet thick, faced with blocks of limestone on its outer and inner face. The entire transverse width of this complicated fortification, not counting the moat, from the outer wall to the inside of the inmost line, measured about one hundred and fifty feet. In height the serried line of towers rose to ninety feet above the surrounding country and also above the level of the city within.

The young barbarian could no longer restrain his emotions of wonder and enthusiasm. He reined in his charger and stood awe-struck at the sight of such a fortress; and, falling back to his native tongue, muttered some broken exclamations in a mixture of creeds about Odin, Asgard, Valhalla, and the Mother of God. The wily chief eyed his young charge with inward satisfaction.

"We shall have ample time to study the fortifications on some other day; and you shall soon be instructed in all the means of defence they possess. Some day you shall attend the rampart drill, and see how the troops are trained to rush along the level terrace from tower to tower; how the successive lines of defence are manned; how, from the battlements above, the engines of war are arrayed which pour bolts, stones, molten lead, and our Greek fire on any invader who might be rash enough to come within their range."

Eric mused in silence. He had seen the log stockades of his native land, and had known them drenched in blood and crackling with fire as they fell before a fierce attack. He had borne arms within the circular palisades on the Vistula and the Danube, which the Slavs and the Bulgarians styled their capitals and royal cities. He had even been a prisoner in Kiev, the renowned city of the Russ, of which the fame had spread up the Baltic and through the whole Scandinavian peninsula. But these were but the fastnesses of savages compared with the vast and scientific circumvallations which protected the capital and palace of the Cæsars.

"The rebel angels might as well hope to scale the heaven and throne of the Almighty," said the chief; "but let us hasten on to the court and the Sacred Palace, for you may expect to see greater wonders to-day."

The horsemen rode on amid the tramp of various troops advancing to take up their positions in the city and crowds of country people from the neighboring villages who were hurrying to see the show. And now the chief pointed out to his companion the beautiful Golden Gate, outside of which was posted a company of Varangians. This noble monument, of which we see the ruin built up into the Turkish fort of the Seven Towers, was a triumphal arch of the great Theodosius, but now incorporated in the mighty circumvallations constructed by his grandson. It was wholly of marble, upheld by lofty classical columns, and at this date was still in perfect preservation. The royal gate was reserved for the emperor and his special guests, and, of course, was now closed and guarded. Our horsemen passed into the city through the public gate that adjoined, along with the troops and the crowd.

Once within the city, they pressed on along the Via Triumphalis, that ran parallel to the sea, a course of some four miles to the Golden Palace and the Augusteum. The great street was lined with palaces, churches, colonnades, and public buildings, the windows and balconies being festooned with draperies and colored curtains, and the roadway strewn with bright sand and enlivened with flowers and wreaths of myrtle, rosemary, and laurel. They hastened past the Forum of Arcadius, with its column, one hundred and fifty-eight feet high, surrounded by bas-reliefs of battle scenes in imitation of the Column of Trajan at Rome. Thence they passed to the Forum of Theodosius, and so on through ever-increasing crowds to the Middle Street (Mesé) and the Forum of Constantine. This splendid area, in shape an ellipse, surrounded by two tiers of porticos, with a marble arch at either end, was adorned with public buildings, monuments, statues, and crosses; in its centre the Porphyry Column, which still remains in its ruined state in the heart of the city. In the tenth century it was still uninjured and surmounted with the statue of the venerable founder of New Rome. The chief explained to the awe-struck viking the story of this sacred symbol; and the simple youth remained dumb with astonishment before such signs of magnificence and power. As he passed countless palaces, porticos, churches, statues, and memorials he was made dizzy with the infinite multitudes in the crowd; and his martial ardor was roused by the sight of the various troops of horse and foot which occupied the entire line and restrained the eagerness of the mob.

At the Forum of Constantine the two horsemen alighted, gave their chargers to the attendants, and proceeded on foot to the Augusteum. Here the crowds were more dense, the adornments of the streets more brilliant, and the array of troopers more solid. At sight of the chief and his companion, all barriers were removed and the military lines were opened; and with throngs of officials, priests, and nobles in gala attire, the general and his aide strode on till they reached the great open space south of the vast church and fronting the bronze gateway of the Sacred Palace.

"This mighty fane before us," said Bardas to his friend, "is the Metropolitan Church of the Divine Wisdom, built by Justinian the Great more than four hundred years ago. It outshines all temples of God in the world both in size and beauty, as the Roman Empire outshines all other states. These statues and monuments in the forum around are the precious gifts of a line of beneficent princes. That glorious equestrian statue in the centre of the square is our ever-to-be-venerated emperor Justinian of immortal memory. And opposite is the bronze gateway that leads into the corridors of the Sacred Palace. Follow me, my son, and try to wear a look of less amazement and confusion at what you see. I have obtained permission from the parakeimomenos himself that you shall be in attendance on me to-day in the palace and the procession that will shortly be formed."

They passed in at the gorgeous gates of gilt bronze amid salutes by the imperial guard and reverences by the ushers addressed to the general, and wandered at leisure from court to court, along the corridors and porticos filled with marble and bronze statues, adorned with mosaic pictures, and now hung with tapestries and Eastern embroideries. The vast halls and cloisters were crowded with nobles and officials in robes of state and the higher chiefs of the army in their most splendid uniforms and jewelled arms. Gradually they joined the gay crowd, as it gathered up to form the procession from the sacred apartments within. At last, three ringing blasts from the silver trumpets summoned the ranks to close, and the formal ceremonial of the day began.

First came a company of Varangians--stately warriors from the North--Scandinavians, Russians, Saxons, with long limbs and flaxen or red hair--the imperial body-guard, in gilt mail tunics, armlets, and greaves, carrying the peculiar weapon of their country, the huge battle-axe surmounted by a sickle-shaped halberd. Then came a group of ushers and palace officials in splendid civil garb. Next followed the court officials in their due order of precedence--silentiaries, chamberlains, masters of the robes and masters of the horse, high stewards, court eunuchs, and privy-councillors, grooms of the chamber, and dispensers of the royal largesses, the chancellor, and the logothete, or minister of finance.

A fresh company of guards--these from the Eastern cavalry--separated this part of the procession from the rest. Then came an almost interminable procession of priests, each bearing huge wax tapers, choristers, acolytes, and incense-bearers, with a long array of crosses, ikons, and holy emblems. The priests were in their bright robes of high ceremony, embroidered copes charged with long palls bearing the Greek cross on each fold. The choristers chanted a psalm as they passed on, and the incense-bearers swung their silver censers; and as the miraculous ikons passed the privileged spectators, by whom the courts were lined, bowed to the earth in reverence of each holy emblem. At last, a fresh group of priests bore along the true cross of St. Helena, or rather the portion of it enclosed in an enamelled and jewelled cross of solid silver, and the miracle-working rod of Moses, the girdle and veil of the Mother of God, and the portrait of Christ, "not made by human hands," which had been vouchsafed to men on earth. All these were received with profound reverences from the spectators in their stations as they were borne along amid the glitter of the tapers and the perfume of incense.

And now came a third group, headed by grooms of the chamber, lords-in-waiting, and masters of the household, all in flowing robes of embroidered silk of various color and pattern. At last stalked by, the observed of all beholders, who cringed and cowered before him, the parakeimomenos himself, the eunuch Joseph, the lord high chamberlain and president of the imperial privy council, who was practically the real ruler of the empire. Then came a pause and a hush of expectation. And lastly there advanced, headed by a further company of guards--tawny mountaineers from the Anatolian Theme--and by a band of musicians with trumpets, cymbals, drums, and fifes, the new Basileus and Basilissa themselves.

Romanus II. was arrayed in a corselet and armlets of gold over his purple tunic, which shone with jewels and pearls; and from his shoulders hung the long folds of the imperial scaramangion. His legs had already been fitted with the quaint scarlet boots, or leggings, which were the ensign of an emperor. His scabbard was scarlet, enamelled and jewelled. He wore on his brow a fillet with precious amulets, but as yet no crown; for the crown was borne along beside him by Polyeuctus, the venerable patriarch, supported and assisted by the prelates of his cathedral in their most gorgeous robes of office. Behind the Basileus, in a dazzling group of court beauties, ladies-in-waiting, of mistresses and ladies of the robes, came the new Basilissa herself, in a tunic of silk gauze of the hues of the rainbow, covered with full robes of massive embroideries and blazing with precious stones, pearls, and pendants. Pride, joy, hope beamed from the lovely countenance of the empress, and was reflected as it were in that of the emperor. As they passed slowly along the corridors, courts, and colonnades, the privileged spectators, who lined them, broke forth at the bidding of the silentiary, or usher, with fervid cries of, "Many, many happy years!" "Holy! Holy! Holy! Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth! To our great Basileus and Autocrator Romanus, many years of life!" And as the empress passed, again they chanted, thrice, "Long life to our blessed Augusta. Welcome, Theophano. May God keep thee, most pious lady of our sovereign lord!" It may be doubted if Romanus II. were the most glorious emperor of his mighty line, and yet more if Theophano were the most pious of royal princesses; but this is certain, that in all that concourse of brilliant men and lovely women in the wonderful panorama of that crowded day, in all that empire which stretched from far Calabria to the Chersonesus, from the Adriatic to the Caucasus and the Euphrates, there could be found no more brilliant figure than that of the young Romanus, and no such dazzling beauty as that of the Greek Theophano herself.

A space separated the imperial group from the rest of the cortège. Then, in gorgeous robes of samite embroidered in gold thread, advanced alone the huge form of Basil the eunuch, the royal bastard, now grand master of the ceremonies. He was followed by a group of general officers in their most splendid uniform of parade. All eyes were now turned upon the illustrious chief, who stalked on in front of the line--the generalissimo of the Oriental armies--the first soldier of the empire.

"See, the hero comes," said Bardas Skleros, in a whisper, to Eric, as the adored chief turned a friendly glance on his trusty comrade and a piercing look on his athletic attendant, who now took their places in the brilliant group of officers of the staff. Nicephorus Phocas, the most eminent chief of a long line of Armenian nobles, the most heroic warrior of a family of famous men of war, was now in the flower of his strength, at forty-six years of age. His natural olive complexion had been tanned and burned almost to a dark hue in the incessant campaigns he had fought since his boyhood amid the suns of Mesopotamia and the snowy passes of Cilicia. He wore his hair long and flowing, with a crisp beard just beginning to be tinged with gray. His nose was long and aquiline, his eyes were dark, of an intense fire under a penthouse of thick, black eyebrows. Of middle height, he had the trunk and shoulders of a giant, with abnormal depth of chest, and the long, muscular arms with which he had more than once in battle cleft a mailed enemy to the chine. His look was stern and pensive, lighted up at moments, as it were, with a sombre fire within. He was taciturn and immovable by habit, so that hardly a gesture or a look ever betrayed his purpose or his thought. To-day he stalked on alone, his mind far away from the Sacred Palace, with neither comrade nor lieutenant by his side; and he just acknowledged with his hand the cheers and obeisances with which he was received. It was noticed that he alone of all that brilliant throng had chosen to attend the procession in his well-worn tunic and his close helm and corselet of action, in the same accoutrements and arms in which he was wont to appear on many a bloody field. And as his scrutiny fell on the warlike figure of Eric, the young Scandinavian felt a thrill to the marrow of his bones; and to his fantastic Northern imagination it seemed to him that Odin himself was searching him with a look to judge if the lad were yet worthy to enter into the Valhalla of heroes. Slowly the immense procession passed on to the royal gate, where the emperor mounted his cream-colored charger of the purest stock of Arabia, richly caparisoned with jewelled and golden ornaments. When the Augusteum was reached--the forum in front of the palace bounded by St. Sophia and the Hippodrome--the Basileus was received by an immense crowd of privileged and official spectators, who again raised the chant of "Long, long life and happy years to our Augustus and autocrator!" Here was renewed the ancient ceremony of ages, dating from the time when Cæsar was the true commander-in-chief. Romanus dismounted and was raised on an immense shield, upborne by general officers, the heads of the senate and the palace, and even nominally by the patriarch himself; and, amid volleys of cheers--"Long life and happy years!"--from the vast throng in the porticos and terraces around, he was saluted as Cæsar, even as Trajan, Constantine, and Theodosius had been hailed by the army as successors of Julius and Augustus.

This secular ceremony accomplished, the Basileus and Basilissa, with their trains, ascended the staircase which led to their place in the Hippodrome. In due order they appeared in the cathisma, or raised balcony, at the northern or straight end of the vast circus, which for hours had been filled by an immense concourse of citizens. As the imperial pair, in their gorgeous array, appeared at the rail in front of their lofty balcony, the sight was one that struck dumb the raw Norwegian halberdier, and would profoundly impress even the most experienced sight-seer of modern times. On each side of the long Hippodrome there rose, tier after tier on the marble steps crowned with open colonnades, a gathering of at least three hundred thousand spectators. In their proper places were seated the Factions, now organized and recognized political clubs. On the city side were seated in proper uniform the Green Faction, on the sea side were the Blues, and from ten thousand trained voices, at the baton of their leaders and at the word of "Salute!" there broke forth, time after time, and in answering strophe and antistrophe, the ordained chant, "Long life and happy years to our Augustus and autocrator, Romanus"--"Holy! Holy! Holy! to God in the highest, and peace on earth!" The Cæsar descended; and, on this occasion, by special favor, as he was proud of his beauty and his consummate horsemanship, Romanus rode in state on his cream charger round the entire arena. As he passed each block of the enormous throng he was received with deafening cheers and the eternal chant of "Long life and happy years!" He was now disrobed from the stately diabetesion and scaramangion, and had chosen to exhibit his exquisite limbs in the uniform of a cataphractic trooper in full campaigning equipment. And as he careered round the long Hippodrome, curveting on his fiery Arab, the superstitious Byzantine burghers imagined that they saw the blessed St. George himself.

When he was returned to the cathisma aloft and had taken his seat on the throne which stood high above the gates whence the chariots started, the Basileus signed to the parakeimomenos that it was his wish for the games to begin. The marshals and heralds now cleared the race-course, and four chariots of four horses each were shot forth from the carceres. The race was followed with shouts, yells, and screams of excitement by the vast host in the circus. More races ensued, and displays of various strange beasts from Asia and from Africa: camels, elephants, giraffes, ostriches, and lions were paraded round the ring; and deputations from wild frontier tribes, in strange, outlandish costumes, advanced to pay reverence and offer gifts to the Cæsar--naked Nubians, seamen from the Ægean Islands, vikings from the Baltic, Russ exiles and outlaws, and hillmen from the Caucasus in huge sheepskins and with bows and arrows.

The shows in the Hippodrome were continued long after the Basileus and Basilissa had left their thrones in the cathisma. This day of most exhausting ceremonies had yet to receive its final and most important function, in the solemn consecration of the imperial pair in the cathedral church by the patriarch. The emperor again crossed the Augusteum to the portal of the great church. He had now been relieved of his military array, and had been formally clothed in the gorgeous robes of imperial state, brocaded with gold, gems, and quaint devices. At the entrance to St. Sophia the Basileus was received by the patriarch and all his clergy; and while his steward of the largess presented gifts to the holy places, the emperor, the empress, and all their principal attendants were supplied with lighted tapers, with which they entered the narthex. They were conducted into the vestry, where fresh robings took place, and even some refreshments were offered to the exhausted princes. After a short rest the sacred ordinances of the ceremony began. Emperor and empress, in turn, duly prostrated themselves before the holy images, crosses, and emblems, and devoutly kissed the miraculous ikon. The procession advanced to the centre of the mighty dome, the choir chanting hymns and repeating, "Holy! Holy! Holy! Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth!" and the ushers and prelates placed the royal personages on the thrones prepared for them. The patriarch himself, in the bema, or chancel, within the semicircular apse, opened the stated prayers, and the coronation liturgy was chanted, the close of each invocation being marked by the chant of the choristers. Advancing from the chancel to the ambon, the patriarch caused the gospel of the day to be read out, and again he uttered the prayers of the rubric. This ambon was a raised platform of colored marble, surmounted by short columns supporting a canopy of alabaster and mosaic. It was reached by a flight of marble steps, both on the eastern and the western sides, and formed a kind of stage between the chancel, or apse, and the centre of the great dome; and it served at once as reading station and stand for important ceremonies. Hither the Basileus was led by one range of stairs, the patriarch standing at the opposite end and the crown being held beside him. The crown itself was perfumed with incense and blessed by the patriarch by placing his hands on it. Then, summoning the emperor to his side, the patriarch raised the crown aloft and solemnly placed it on the head of the Basileus, crying, "Holy! God in Three! bless our august autocrator and Basileus!" Then the Basilissa was led forth by her attendant eunuchs and borne up into the ambon, where the emperor himself placed her crown on his consort's head. They both then were attended to their thrones in front of the chancel, and the rest of the ceremony was concluded, the patriarch having now returned from the ambon to the bema.

There he celebrated mass himself and partook of the elements in solemn form. Thereupon the Basileus was led into the bema and stood beside the silver altar. His crown is taken from his head and held by the chief deacon, while the Basileus on his knees partakes of the body and blood of Christ. The patriarch again blesses him and anoints him with holy oil, and cries over his bowed head: "May the Lord be mindful of the power of thy kingdom in His universal kingdom, now and always, for ever and ever. Amen." Thereupon the emperor stooped low and thrice kissed the hand of the patriarch, and remained in silent prayer amid a breathless pause. At last the autocrator rose and was led to his throne beside the empress. And at once the choir burst forth with the peals of the organ and the blare of silver trumpets, and the chants of the choir in the galleries were renewed. The imperial procession was reformed. Hundreds of pendent chandeliers held lighted candles and glass lamps. The incense poured upward in wreaths to the saints, archangels, and cherubim in the mosaics of the domes, and amid a blaze of color and the rustlings of a thousand robes of silk and brocade the imperial cortège passed into the open square. As they issued from the portal, a roar of voices ascended from the crowd without, with renewed shouts of "Long life and happy years to Romanus and Theophano! Augustus ever victorious and Augusta beloved of the Mother of God!"

The imperial procession, with its multitude of officials, soldiers, eunuchs, and priests, passed into the bronze gates of the palace amid infinite acclamations, the murmur of a vast mass of excited human beings, and the incessant strains of martial music. They proceeded to the hall of the excubitors, or body-guard, where a banquet of three hundred guests was held. The Basileus and Basilissa themselves were conducted, with a series of obeisances and forms, to the privy chambers of the Sacred Palace, where, after a fitting rest, they supped in the Hall of the Nineteen Couches with the patriarch and a few of the highest officials of the empire.