Tag: Constantinople

An Imperial Ménage à Trois

Art from the Hagia Sophia depicting Constantine Monomachos and the Empress Zoe on either side of Christ. Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Last time I hinted briefly on the subject of Maria Scleraina, the mistress of Constantine IX Monomachos. Very little can be found about this lady save a few interesting tidbits here and there.  When Constantine agreed to marry Zoe Porphyrogenita, his one condition was that he be allowed to bring his mistress with him. Zoe expansively agreed to that, even to the extent that Maria was given a title equal to her own – sebastea – and was present in all formal official occasions and processions. After years of clawing her way to the top, and numerous love affairs (she was now on husband number three) Zoe seemed surprisingly relaxed about the situation. By now she was in her sixties and while Constantine was a lover from back in the day, he was her junior by at least twenty years. Perhaps she no longer felt the need for competition for men’s affections. Perhaps she found Maria’s influence useful in some way. Whatever the reason, Maria was given full honors and prestige alongside her lover and his wife.

Maria came from a noble family and was in fact, the great-granddaughter of the rebel Bardas Scleros who twice revolted against the rule of Basil II. She was a lively and intelligent lady who enjoyed conversation and literature. Among her favorite things to read and discuss was the poet Homer. This was apparently well enough known that there is an anecdote by the historian Michael Psellos describing a procession in which Maria took part. As Maria passed by, an onlooker whispered, “It were no shame…” the first line of a verse from Homer’s Illiad. The entire verse is: “It were no shame that Trojans and well-greaved Achaeans should long suffer for the sake of this woman.” It is in reference to Helen of Troy. Maria was naturally delighted to be compared to Helen of Troy and, while maintaining serenity and poise during the procession, later had the speaker located and brought to the palace where he was accordingly rewarded with lavish gifts.  This was the passage from Michael Psellos’ Chonographia:

There was an instance when we the imperial secretaries processed alongside the Empress (Zoe). Her sister Theodora and the Sebaste (Maria) also processed… This was the first time the people had seen the empresses together. One of the flatters whispered a quote from The Poet; ‘It were no shame…’ but did not finish the lines. Maria did not immediately acknowledge the words. However, when the procession finished, she both separated out the speaker and closely examined the comparison, not butchering the words, but pronouncing the quote correctly. So, the speaker recounted the comparison at length and in exactness. The audience heard the words at the same time expressed approval. At that moment Maria was filled with pride.

Maria is a personality that lends itself well to an interesting fictionalized character and as such, she is rapidly finding her way into the plot of what will be my fourth book in the Varangian Saga, The Red Empress. In this, her love of literature (in particular Homer) has made her seem to leap off the pages, as in this instance her encounter with my fictional character Asbjørn: 

Asbjørn stood in the entryway to the gynaikonitis, ill at ease and unsure of himself. When the eunuch motioned him to come forward, he did, but reluctantly. Maria was seated, surrounded by her ladies in front of an alcove with windows that opened out onto the sea. From where he stood, Asbjørn could smell the sea, even over the heady floral aromas that pervaded the room. Someone had thrown sandalwood on the brazier. It was strong and it made his head feel clouded.

            He made obeisance to her. She made a gesture with her hand to one of her serving women who brought a large bound codex forward. “This is for you to read. Homer’s Iliad,” she added, by way of explanation. Asbjørn took the bound volume in his hands, as one might a newborn child. A shock went through him, as he touched the leather binding. It was as Rastislav had always said. Words were powerful. They contained a magic that could not be explained. Was this not why Óðinn had hung on the Great Yew Tree, to gain the power of the runes for all mankind? Holding a volume like this took his breath away. It had been a long time since he had held any book in his hand.  “I cannot do this, kyria,” he told her.

            “You read well. Any man that can read Plato can read Homer.” She smiled at him.

            “It is not that. I cannot be responsible for such an expensive book. I fear something would happen to it. I fear being beholden to you.”

            “You would be beholden to me if you did not read it. It is my very favorite of all writings. I desire that you should know it as well.”

            His unease, rather than being diminished, only heightened. He had not come here to read the Iliad. His sole purpose in Constantinople was to find the men who had been the scourge of his family and see their society torn asunder. In spite of himself, he opened the cover. He could smell, only faintly, the odor of old parchment and the distinctive aroma of gum arabic and cuttlefish ink. The copyist had a fine hand, clear and legible, though the manuscript was old enough that the ink had begun to fade. The first words reached out and pulled him in: Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.

The only thing he had to compare were the old stories of the gods of his people that his sister had told him by the fire on winter nights. Part story, part poetry, part incantation.

He looked up at her, lost in a space of time, wondering how long they had all been looking at him. How long he had been lost in the page.

            “It is not like the Church Fathers or even Plato at all, is it now?” Her eyes sparked at him, daring him to disagree. He had no words.

             “I will read it,” he said. “Thank you.”

            She clapped her hands together. “I am so glad. And when you have finished, I want to hear which parts you favored best.”

Somewhere I read that Maria gave Constantine a daughter, Anastasia who was later given in marriage to Vsevolod I of Kiev. Anastasia is certainly mentioned as a relative to Constantine IX, but it is not entirely clear if this is how. Maria had a good deal of influence on her lover and perhaps used to it to some effect to bring about the destruction of George Maniakes. It is known that her brother Romanos Skleros had land adjacent to Maniakes and there was no love lost between these two men. He was said to have pillaged Maniakes’ land and to have “desecrated the marriage bed” which one could take to interpret that he either raped Maniakes’ wife or seduced her. This certainly must have had some bearing on the reason Maniakes finally rebelled in 1043, having his troops declare him the true and rightful emperor. It almost makes American politics pale by comparison. Almost.  In any case, Maniakes’ forces were destroyed by the emperor’s at Ostrovo and he was killed.

The emperor’s preferential treatment of Maria unsurprisingly led to theories among Byzantines that there was a conspiracy against the true empresses Zoe and Theodora and even rumors that she was planning on murdering them. This led to an uprising in 1044 in which a mob actually threatened harm to Constantine during a procession. The empresses made an appearance on a balcony to assuage the fears of the people. Soon after this, Maria passed away. Not all influential women made history books as did Cleopatra, Joan of Arc or Elizabeth I. Maria was one of those who was content to play her role quietly behind the scenes. Some historians would like us to think that Byzantine women spent their whole lives cloistered behind the walls of the gynaikonitis, never speaking for themselves or showing their faces. (The riot in 1042 in Constantinople spoken of in a previous post in which the women of the city emerged to protest the cloistering of the Empress Zoe refutes this notion.) In fact, women like Maria appear to be as fully educated as their male counterparts and even at times, as outspoken. Yet perhaps sometimes they found their greatest influence exhibiting their sparkling charm, wit and gracious femininity as did Maria Scleraina. This, then, is the true power of a woman.

Chaos in Constantinople

Last week I attempted to somewhat shallowly cover the exploits of Harold Hadrada. It was a feeble attempt, because there is more to cover than can be attempted in the format of a blog. Sígfus Blöndal devoted an entire chapter of his Varangians of Byzantium to Harold Hadrada alone and he is far more qualified to write about him at length.

I mentioned that among the many events that occurred during Harold’s time in the empire, was an uproar surrounding the Empress Zoe Porphyrogenita and her adopted son Michael V, who had seized the throne upon the death of her second husband and his kinsman Michael IV. There will be a lot of Michaels in this article, so bear with me.

Michael V did not long hesitate to seize power for himself. He claimed that Zoe had attempted to murder him. Unfortunately, her history regarding husbands was not the most exemplary. Her first husband had been Romanos Argyros III and while it had not been her idea to marry him, it most likely was her idea to do away with him. Michael Psellos and Mathew of Edessa, both contemporary historians maintain that Zoe poisoned him, Psellos saying it was hellebore. Indeed, hellebore may have been what weakened him, causing him to succumb to exhaustion in the baths. Hellebore is not a fast-acting poison, but perhaps Zoe and her lover who later became Michael IV only wanted to incapacitate Romanos with the intention it would appear he was drowning. Romanos’ attendants pulled him from the water and Zoe was called immediately whereupon she set up a great fuss at his predicament but then left. It was reported that her lover’s men later strangled him. In any case he died and Psellos, who witnessed many of the events, certainly seemed to think that Zoe was somehow culpable for his demise. Her younger lover, once urbane and handsome, was given to epileptic fits and soon gave way to deteriorating health. In time, not even yet thirty, he lay on his deathbed and Zoe was persuaded, perhaps even forced, to accept Michael’s nephew also named Michael as her adopted son. Her husband refused to see her before he died and before long, her newly adopted stepson was planning to take the throne completely for himself. He knew that Zoe, while now getting on in years, had been much spoiled by her father Constantine VIII would consider herself entitled to the throne, despite being a woman. First, he exiled his uncle who had been instrumental in getting him on the throne. Then he found a way to get rid of his adoptive mother as well. She was accused of plotting and conspiracy, had her head shorn and was exiled to an island in the Marmara Sea.

Zoe Porphorygenita (Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons from a mosaic at the Hagia Sophia)

In the meantime, the man who might have been her champion, Harold Hadrada had been dumped in prison, possibly on trumped up charges. Sígfus Blöndal gives his place of incarceration as the cells below the quarters of the Excubitore, the original imperial guard prior to the Varangian contingent. Michael V was said to have had the Varangian Guard replaced by more tractable troops called “Scythian slaves” who may well have been Slavic captives.

The new emperor moved quickly to secure his position on the throne. He not only had his adoptive mother exiled, but also his uncle John Orphanotrophos, a eunuch who had been in a place of special council since the time of Zoe’s uncle Basil II.  He also attempted to entrap the Patriarch of Constantinople, Alexios. Sígfus Blöndal indicated that Michael V had the Varangians surround the Stenon Monastery where Alexius had taken refuge while elsewhere indicating the Varangians had been replaced by “Scythian slaves” so there is some confusion over this discrepancy. It is likely that he would have used replacements, as the Varangians swore an oath not to the empire, but the emperor himself. As the rightful Porphyrogenita, a title that literally means “born in the purple” all men on the throne would have received their right to rule directly through Zoe and her ties to the Macedonian bloodline. Zoe was nothing if not wily and while I have found no actual historical notes verifying it, it seems to me that she would have found it propitious to have the Varangian Guard swear personally to her, as they would to a male reigning sovereign. Michael would know that he had no hold on the elite military unit, mostly comprised of Scandinavians to whom oath breaking was an anathema instilled in them since birth.

 Alexios managed to bribe his way out of the monastery and ran to the Hagia Sophia, summoning the officials of state and military to meet him there.

 Even as this was happening, Michael V called the Senate together and announced that the empress had attempted to poison him, perhaps readily believable considering the very suspicious way her first husband had died, and he had her deposed and exiled to the Prinkipo Islands. Michael had the sebastocrator (a very high ranking official at court) of Constantinople declare the new order in the forum of Constantine. However, Alexios was one step ahead of him and had the bells rung and the people summoned out into the streets to oppose the emperor’s treason. There ensued outright anarchy for the next forty-eight hours or so. As the mobs began first to attack the home of the emperor’s uncle the nobilissimus, and the emperor’s palace itself, the latter panicked and sent a boat to the empress’ island prison to bring her back. He had her vested once more in imperial robes and brought out on a balcony in the hippodrome that all might see she had been returned. He and the nobilissimus made a great show of bowing to her. However, the mob refused to believe that she would be anything more than a helpless pawn in the hands of Michael V and the nobilissimus. They demanded that she reign in her own right and that Theodora, the empress’ despised sister be brought from monastic life (where she was quite happy, by the way) and made to rule with her. They dragged the old one-time empress out from the monastery and forced her also to wear imperial vestments.  The palace was still under siege and in the midst of all this chaos, the strategos Maniakes (Hadrada’s old nemesis) returned from Sicily with a military contingent of his own. If indeed Michael still had Varangians on his side, it was to soon become apparent that those mustered with him and those on the side of the insurgents, would not long conceive to fight one another. He realized he would soon be abandoned, and his own troops would turn on him, before they would turn on their sword brothers.

Harold Hadrada had by this time been released from prison (Psellos said it was a woman, but never tells us exactly who) and had come to lead his Varangians against the insufferable Michael.  Under the cover of darkness, the emperor and his uncle fled by boat to the Studite Monastery where they were not long able to take sanctuary as they were dragged out and returned to Palace. The mobs had destroyed the Archives and the Imperial Treasury (the Norse sagas state that it was burned). Power changed hands very quickly. There was a new sebastecrator and he had given orders that Michael and his uncle were to be publicly blinded. It naturally fell to Harold Hadrada and his men who had so rudely fell afoul of Michael V to throw themselves to this task. Psellos was apparently a witness to all this. He records that the nobilissimus underwent his punishment bravely with no complaint or resistance but that the emperor “howled pitifully”, beginning when he saw what was in store for him. After this, they were both exiled to a monastery to end their days.

Constantine IX (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons from a mosaic at the Hagia Sophia)

            Theodora’s return to the palace did not suit Zoe at all who did not fancy sharing power with her sister. She quickly decided that the only way to remedy this was to take yet another husband. After perusing the lists of a few of her former beaux, she decided on Constantine Monomachos. The Patriarch Alexios refused to marry them as it was a third marriage for them both. They got married anyway and Constantine was recognized as IX of his name. His only requirement was that he keep his mistress with him. Perhaps no one was more surprised than Constantine when the empress readily agreed, and his mistress Maria Scleraina (who was, by the way, the granddaughter of none other than that old rebel Bardas Scleros). She was given the official title sebastea and in any public procession involving Constantine and the empress, she was always included and given much the same respect. This curious ménage à trois continued until her death in 1044.  She was truly an interesting person and Psellos hints at an exuberant and sparkling personality, but more on Maria Scleraina must wait for another day.

Byzantine Cuisine – Drink and Tavernas

An example of a Roman thermopolium

The poor of the cities were often discouraged from cooking in their own homes, often shabby flats, for fear of fire. For this purpose, Roman fast food joints known as thermopolia, sprang up. Here common people could obtain a hot meal for a cheap price. The tavernas also catered to the common people. Here you could buy alcohol as well as a hot meal. For a bronze follis or two you could obtain salted fish, beans and coarse black bread, washed down with cheap acidic wine. If you had a few extra folles you might also be able to obtain the attentions of the dancing girls, as prostitution was often one of the services offered by the tavernas, in spite of the supposed prudery of the times. An effort was made to limit the time tavernas could be open to prevent mischief especially on Sundays and during Lent. Even so, tavernas continued to offer diversions such as dice, singing, cock fights and of course sexual entertainment.

If you had enough coin, you could afford a specialty drink such as phouska. Those who catered to foreign tastes, might offer the drinks of their choice. The Norse Varangians from Russia and Scandinavia as well as Anglo Saxons, disenfranchised after the Norman Conquest in England, favored the strong fermented honey drink, mead and so as men from the northern lands flooded Constantinople in search of a position in the famed Varangian Guard, honey mead came to be a popular offering in the tavernas. A Varangian might have lingered for a while in such a taverna, as Sven does here:

Sven found himself again in a taverna as the late afternoon light lengthened the shadows. He hurt all over. He turned again to wine for solace, as well as a favorite past time of his: listening to the conversations of others. The taverna keeper lit the oil lamps swaying from the rafters on their chains. Sven basked in the glow they cast over the well-worn wooden tables and benches. He liked tavernas. They stank of wine and reeked of the odor of unwashed humanity. But they were pleasant places overall for people watching. Two infantrymen played at dice in a corner for bronze coins. Men creaked over the wooden floor boards, rattling the tables and making the wine slosh in his cup. Behind him, three men sat down at a bench opposite the door. Without looking at them, he could tell they were better educated and better paid than most of the men within the confines of the establishment. He could tell that one man was quite a bit younger than the others, but higher in status. They all spoke a higher dialect of Greek, not the peasant variety spoken by most others there. They ordered better wine than he himself drank. It was phouska, a drink flavored with cumin, anise, fennel and thyme. It had never been to his taste. He closed his eyes and sipped his own harsh wine. 

The ambassador, Liutprand of Cremona mentioned in a previous post who objected to garum,  also did not care for Byzantine wine which he described as “mixed with pitch, resin, and plaster was to us undrinkable”.  Perhaps the ambassador was merely difficult to please.   He must have been alone in his assessment, as Byzantine wines were much favored by Western Europeans.  He may have been referring to Retsina, a type of wine that got its unique flavor from sealing the wine jars with pine resin.

Next we will look at dessert, everyone’s favorite! Let me know your thoughts below.

Sources:

The Complete Works of Liudprand of Cremona (Medieval Texts in Translation) Liudprand (Bishop of Cremona)

Tastes of Byzantium : The Cuisine of a Legendary Empire by Andrew Dal

Daily Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman