By Pueros

‘Solomon, I have surpassed you!’

- Byzantine Emperor Justinian I

PART Α

PREFACE

(Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, Turkey, earlier this year)

The author of this Christmas story earlier this year again found himself strolling casually around one of his favourite buildings in the whole of the world, which has already been mentioned in several of his tales for this archive. The place was the Hagia Sophia in what is now called Istanbul in Turkey but was once Constantinople and before that Byzantium. The name of this magnificent domed structure, ‘Άγια Σοφία’ in Greek, means ‘Holy Wisdom’.

The Hagia Sophia has been a museum since 1935 but had previously been a mosque since the Ottoman Turkish conquest of Constantinople in 1453, as is particularly symbolised by the tall minarets built at different times at the four corners. However, the present building was originally constructed as the ‘Church of the Holy Wisdom’ in the 6th century on the site of an earlier pagan temple dedicated to the ancient Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite.

The great Byzantine Emperor, Justinian I, who wanted to build the biggest and most splendid Christian basilica in not only his capital city but also the world, commissioned the construction. The required unparalleled status was attained and subsequently maintained for nearly a thousand years until the completion towards the end of the 15th century of a bigger cathedral in Seville, Spain.

The Hagia Sophia, however, could easily have forfeited this prolonged eminent status early in its existence and have been completely lost to posterity. The fact that the building not only retained such prominence for so long but also stands proudly intact today, as a monument to all those involved over the centuries in its construction, maintenance and repair, is, though, essentially due to one particular person.

As the author earlier this year again strolled casually around the Hagia Sophia, an idea came to his mind. He would relate the biography of this person in this Christmas story, his seventh consecutive seasonal tale for the archive, as well as provide some of the historical background of the magnificent building.

The author considered the story appropriate for his annual seasonal contribution for the archive because several events in the tale coincidentally occurred at Christmastime.

PART Β

BACKGROUND

Chapter B.ά

The Proclamation

(Hagia Eirene, Byzantium, Eastern Roman Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], about 1, 677 years previously, 11th May 330 CE)

On Monday 11th of May 330 CE, the great Roman Emperor Constantine I attended High Mass in the recently built Hagia Eirene, or church of the ‘Holy Peace of God’, in Byzantium. The basilica, the construction of which had been commissioned by him, represented the first great Christian cathedral in not only the city but also the world. The building still exists today within the walls of the Topkapi Palace in Istanbul and was briefly mentioned, albeit not by name, in the first part of this author’s ‘Ottomans ۱ : The Mountain Flower’. At the time of that story, the place was rather sacrilegiously used as an arsenal.

The High Mass on Monday 11th of May 330 CE was the culmination of forty days and nights of public celebrations enjoyed by the mainly Greek citizenry of Byzantium to commemorate Constantine I’s silver jubilee as Roman Emperor. The religious ceremony was also the occasion at which he formally proclaimed a decision made six years previously.

Constantine I formally proclaimed at the High Mass that Byzantium was to be renamed ‘Nova Roma’, or ‘New Rome’, and become the new capital of his Empire, as well as be dedicated to the Christian God. As he uttered this proclamation, other celebratory ceremonies were ironically taking place in nearby pagan temples, as the majority of the citizenry had not yet converted to the new faith.

Despite ascribing his progress to being sole Roman Emperor to the Christian God, even Constantine I appeared not to be wholly committed to the new faith. He was not yet baptised and tolerantly continued to allow pagan worship.

The designation of ‘Nova Roma’ as the new Imperial capital on the 11th of May 330 CE was subsequently sumptuously celebrated every year on the annual anniversary. Despite Constantine considering himself to be Roman, historians also now regard the date to be effectively the beginning of the Byzantine Empire.

The Byzantine Empire was to last for another 1,123 years and 18 days and was ruled by eighty-eight Emperors.

Chapter B.β

The Legacy

(Imperial villa, near Nicomedia, Bithynia, Asia Minor, Byzantine Empire [modern Izmit, Anatolia, Turkey], just over 7 years later, 22nd May 337 CE)

Constantine I had actually deliberately postponed his baptism, as would one of his best successors for the same reason, the very devout Theodosius the Great. Christian belief at the time considered that the relevant sacrament gave absolute forgiveness of all sins and thereby returned the soul to original purity and consequent entitlement, if this happy condition was subsequently maintained, to eternal salvation.

Having been responsible for many sins over his 58 years of life, including the deaths of his own eldest son and second wife, Constantine I had decided to delay his baptism until near his end in order to guarantee such eternal salvation. He finally determined that the appropriate time had come when he was returning from a visit to the city that he had rebuilt and renamed from the original Drepanum in honour of his pious mother, Helena, who is now a Christian Saint.

The overworking Constantine I had felt ill over Easter 337 CE. He had recently returned to his new capital, from mobilising his army in Asia Minor against the possibility of imminent war with the Eastern Roman Empire’s persistent rival in the region, Persia, in order to supervise the completion of yet another commissioned Christian basilica.

The cruciform multi-domed Church of the Holy Apostles was bigger than the Hagia Eirene. However, unlike the latter, the basilica is no longer extant, having being demolished and replaced by a new and still existing mosque by Mehmed II, who was the Ottoman Sultan responsible for the Turkish capture of Constantinople in 1453.

Constantine I decided to attempt to rectify his ill-health by travelling to Helenopolis in the province of Bithynia in northern Asia Minor [modern Hersek, Anatolia, Turkey] in order to partake of the supposedly curative thermal baths there. On his way back to his capital, he reached the environs of Nicomedia [modern Izmit, Anatolia, Turkey], which had ironically been the capital of the Eastern Empire until the Emperor chose Byzantium instead.

By now, Constantine I was very ill indeed and felt that death was at hand. He therefore rested in the Imperial villa on the outskirts of Nicomedia and summoned the local bishop finally to baptise him. Shortly afterwards at about noon on Whit Sunday, 22nd May 337 CE, the Emperor died after a reign of 31 years, which had been the longest since the first incumbent, Augustus.

Up until the Emperor’s death, few people had actually used the official appellation of ‘Nova Roma’ instead of Byzantium for the new Imperial capital, despite the city being spread across seven hills like the original. However, a further renaming after Constantine’s death was accepted.

Byzantium was renamed after the late Emperor. The city became Constantinople.

Constantine I was later entombed in his Church of the Holy Apostles, which also became the customary resting place for the remains of future Emperors. Rather ironically, but also perhaps appropriately, the destroyer of the Byzantine Empire, Mehmed II, now reposes in his own mausoleum at the mosque he built on the site.

Another legacy of Constantine I was that he was partly responsible for another magnificent edifice that is still extant. He was the Emperor who first visualised building yet another splendid basilica in his capital.

This other new basilica was destined for a site on which a pagan temple dedicated to the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, previously stood.

Chapter B.γ

The Dedication

(Magna Ecclesia, or ‘Great Church’, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], about 30 years later, 15th February 360 CE)

A previous Roman Emperor, Diocletian, had come to power in 284 CE after half a century of crisis. As described in the author’s last seasonal story for the archive, ‘Christmas Offering for the Emperor’, about thirty generals had during this period claimed the Imperial throne with the support of their legions. Consequently, rival candidates and their supporting military forces fought each other rather than the state’s enemies.

Of the twenty-seven so-called Emperors with the most recognisable authority in this period, seventeen were assassinated by their own troops, seven were killed in battle and two were compelled to commit suicide. Assuming the Imperial throne appeared to be deferred suicide.

Meanwhile, as a consequence of the infighting, the Empire’s borders became neglected and vulnerable to regular attack by barbarians, such as the various German tribes and the Goths and Vandals. Aided by the excellent Roman road system, some invaders even destructively wandered around Imperial territories at will. Cities such as Athens and Tarraco [modern Tarragona, Spain], far from any frontiers and long pacified and therefore easy prey, were sacked. The major foe in the east, the Persians, also enjoyed significant successes in that region.

The highly capable Diocletian, though, stabilised affairs, being the first Emperor in over a century to reign continuously for more than twenty years. He also enjoyed the luxury of being able to hand over power to successors in 305 CE and retire to his palace at Salona in Dalmatia [modern Split, Croatia], where he died in his bed over a decade later.

Diocletian’s stabilisation of the Roman Empire was considerably assisted by his acceptance that Imperial territories were too vast for just one man to be in charge. He therefore established the ‘tetrarchy’, or ‘rule by four people’.

Diocletian’s version of the system involved appointing a co-Emperor, or ‘Augustus’, and, as deputies to each of them, two younger and more junior ‘Caesars’, who were married into their respective families and could expect to succeed them but meanwhile had their own important responsibilities. Given one of the latter positions was Flavius Valerius Constantius, known to posterity as Constantius Chlorus, or ‘the Pale’, who was Constantine I’s father.

All four tetrarchs controlled allocated territories from bases in their own strategically positioned capitals, none of which was Rome. The relevant cities were instead Nicomedia in northwest Asia Minor [modern Izmit, Anatolia, Turkey], Sirmium in Pannonia [modern Sremska Mitrovica, Serbia], Mediolanum [modern Milan, Italy] and Augusta Treverorum [modern Trier, Germany].

After the up-to-then still dominant Diocletian’s retirement, however, the system of divided rule that he had established quickly collapsed. Squabbles and wars erupted between actual and would-be tetrarchs, during which the Battle of the Milvian Bridge near Rome in 312 CE was significant in two ways.

Firstly, Constantine I, successor as co-Augustus to his father, Constantius Chlorus, who had died in 306 CE, won this important conflict against a rival in the civil wars, which enabled him eventually to become sole Emperor. Secondly, and perhaps even more significantly, the victor later claimed that his success in the battle was due to the Christian God.

This assertion encouraged Constantine I to acclaim above the old pagan cults Christianity, which had earlier been brutally suppressed by many Emperors, especially Diocletian. This development led to not only the ending of all persecution of the creed but also to the ultimate acceptance of the faith as the state religion, which had immense ramifications for the subsequent history of the world.

Constantine I’s assertion of Christian divine assistance in winning the Battle of the Milvian Bridge arose from his claim that shortly before the conflict he looked up at the sky and saw above the sun a cross and the announcement in Greek ‘Εν Τουτω Νικα’. These words, more commonly quoted in the Latin version, namely ‘In hoc signo vinces’, mean ‘In this sign you will conquer’.

Jesus Christ himself later allegedly came to the confused Constantine I in a dream to provide an interpretation of the vision. The divine message conveyed supposedly declared that, if the Emperor used the sign of the cross on the banners and shields of his soldiers in the forthcoming battle at Milvian Bridge, he would emerge victorious.

Contemporary chroniclers vary in their descriptions of the actual shape of the cross allegedly seen. Lactantius asserted that it was a ‘staurogram’, a combination of the Greek letters tau, or ‘Τ’, and rho, or ‘Ρ’. On the other hand, Eusebius described a ‘christogram’ of the co-joined chi, or ‘X’, and rho.

Tau and rho appear in the Greek words for ‘cross’ and ‘crucify’ but the staurogram more likely derives from the fact that in combination as a pictogram the letters provide a visual depiction of Jesus on the cross, with the loop of the ‘P’ portraying his slumped head. Meanwhile, chi and rho are the first two letters in the Greek word for Christ and support for this version of the cross in the vision comes from the fact that this particular monogram later became a prominent symbol of Constantine I.

After Constantine I’s death in 337 CE, three surviving sons, a 20 year-old namesake plus his younger brothers, Constantius and Constans, were proclaimed joint Emperors, or ‘Augusti’. Despite their relative youth, they subsequently organised the brutal slaughtering of potential family rivals before allocating themselves realms that approximated to those their father had delegated to them to rule as his deputies, or ‘Caesars’.

Constantine II remained in charge of Britain, Gaul and Spain. Constantius, who was named after his Emperor grandfather and was therefore also afforded the numerical suffix of ‘II’, controlled the Asian provinces and Egypt, whilst Constans, although the youngest at fifteen, ruled the largest grouping, encompassing the capital, the rest of north Africa, Italy, Greece, Thrace and the Danubian provinces. However, the brothers soon began to quarrel amongst themselves.

Constantine II considered himself as the eldest to be superior to his younger brothers. As a result, he attempted to impose his will on them, directing his early attention especially on Constans, whose realm neighboured his own but who, however, refused to defer. Consequently, the older sibling launched an invasion of Italy from Gaul in 340 CE in order to compel him to submit.

Despite being the youngest brother, Constans, though, proved to be a wily military commander and he and his own army ambushed Constantine II and his near Aquileia in Italy. The older sibling was killed and his body initially thrown into the River Alsa.

Constans, at just seventeen, now found himself controlling the whole of the Western Empire. However, he subsequently proved to be a negligent and debauched Emperor, preferring pastimes such as hunting and dissolute activities with handsome young blond German prisoners-of-war to ruling competently. As a result, dissension grew within his legions, eventually resulting in his murder in early 350 CE.

The only surviving brother, Constantius II, was now sole ruler, or ‘Augustus’, of the Empire, which, however, he soon decided was too big to control on his own. During a subsequent campaign to defeat a usurper to Constans’ throne, he therefore appointed, as his more junior ‘Caesar’, his 25 year-old cousin, Gallus, whose father had been one of the family members murdered when the current Emperor and his late siblings had succeeded to the Imperial throne.

Gallus had survived the slaughter because of his tender age of only eleven at the time. However, he later had to spend six years, from aged seventeen, with his younger half-brother, Julian, then eleven, in close but relatively comfortable confinement in the remote old palace of Macellum, which once belonged to the Kings of Cappadocia [in modern eastern Anatolia, Turkey].

Gallus was subsequently recalled to the Imperial court, where Constantius II, now being short of close relatives, later nominated him as a ‘Caesar’. Meanwhile, at his own request, Julian, who had proved to be an excellent scholar, with one of his early tutors being Mardonius, a Goth and eunuch, was allowed to tour the major philosophical schools of the Eastern Empire and devote himself to serious study.

Unfortunately, Gallus’ tenure as Caesar proved short-lived. He was wrongly accused in 354 CE of plotting against Constantius II and the Emperor ordered the young man to be beheaded.

Julian worried that he might soon be killed as well. However, he was eventually summoned to Constantius II’s presence in Mediolanum [modern Milan, Italy], where at the age of twenty-three he was on the 6th of November 355 CE instead made a ‘Caesar’ too, being given control of the Western Empire.

The joint rule remained the situation in 360 CE when in January Constantius II, as the more senior Augustus, ordered Julian, then settled in Lutetia Parisiorum in Gaul [modern Paris, France] as Caesar of the west, to send substantial reinforcements for the army in the east. The latter was again faced with a major war against Persia.

A month later, whilst he awaited Julian’s response, Constantius II ceremonially dedicated the great church that he had commissioned to be built on the site of the pagan temple to Aphrodite in Constantinople in accordance with his late father’s plans. The building was constructed in the form of a traditional rectangular colonnaded Roman basilica with atrium, galleries and wooden roof, climaxing at the eastern end in an asped sanctuary.

The basilica was originally called ‘Magna Ecclesia’ in Latin and ‘Megalè Ekklèsia’ in Greek, meaning ‘Great Church’.

Chapter B.δ

The Succession

(Naissus, Upper Moesia, Western Empire [modern Niš, Serbia], November 361 CE)

The legions in the west had rebelled in response to Constantius II’s order to send reinforcements to the east and Julian had been reluctantly coerced to support and head their revolt. The alternative was certainly deposition by the military, probably as fatally as his predecessor in the region, Constans, had been.

Consequently, the compliant Julian was promoted from Caesar to Augustus by acclamation of the western legions. However, for three reasons, he subsequently waited until late 361 CE before acting against the threat of revenge from Constantius II.

First, there was no real hurry because Constantius II was currently involved in the east with the interminable enemy in the region, the Persians. Second, Julian was himself rather occupied with troublesome German barbarians in the Rhine borderlands, some of whom had actually been stirred into action by his now rival Augustus. Third, he still hoped to come to an accommodation and avoid conflict.

Julian’s armies finally marched towards Constantinople in late 361 CE, in initially three separate contingents by different routes. However, the units led by the new Augustus, who retained his aspirations to escape violence, eventually chose in early November to winter at Naissus [modern Niš, Serbia], which had ironically been the birthplace of Constantine I.

A few weeks later, messengers arrived at the winter camp. They advised Julian that Constantius II had died of fever during his return from the east to Constantinople to face the threat from his rival.

The messengers also informed Julian that the legions in the east had proclaimed their loyalty to him as the new sole Augustus.

Chapter B.ε

The Apostate

(Church of the Holy Apostles, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], 11th December 361 CE)

On hearing the momentous news, Julian rushed to Constantinople in order to be present in the Imperial capital when Constantius II’s body arrived. The new sole Augustus wanted to attend the funeral rights of his rival, despite him being responsible for the murders of his father and half-brother and his own exiled confinement in early life.

Julian, dressed in ceremonial mourning attire, was actually present on Constantinople’s quayside when Constantius II’s coffin was unloaded from a ship. He subsequently led the funeral cortege to the Church of the Holy Apostles, where the late Emperor was to be laid to rest alongside his father.

Julian exhibited genuine remorse throughout proceedings, openly crying. He also respectfully refrained from accepting personal Imperial accoutrements until after the funeral, when, though, he began to reveal his true religious beliefs.

Despite being tutored by some notable Christian theologians, including bishops and even later saints, Julian had secretly rejected the faith in favour of paganism. The rather mystically philosophical new sole Augustus firmly believed that the religion was a major reason for some of the Empire’s troubles.

Julian considered Christianity to be too feeble compared with the ancient Roman cults, especially when propounding mildness and forgiveness and offering easy absolution. He thought that the faith thereby encouraged weakness and, by doing so, was emasculating the Empire.

Furthermore, Julian believed that surviving to become sole Emperor, whilst he secretly preferred the ancient Roman gods, was testament to their existence and power. The pagan deities and not the Christian one had been responsible for his great destiny.

Consequently, Julian, termed ‘the Apostate’ because of his rejection of Christianity, decided to reconvert the Empire back to the old religions, whilst turning the churches, including the great ones in Constantinople, into pagan temples.

Chapter B.ζ

The Emperors

(Magna Ecclesia, or ‘Great Church’, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], about 44 years later, 25th June, 404 CE)

Fortunately for Christianity and the great churches of Constantinople, Julian the Apostate did not last for long as sole Emperor. He was killed in battle whilst fighting the Persians on the 16th of June 363 CE, 18 months after the funeral of his predecessor.

Because Julian had no heir, his own successor was appointed by acclamation of the armies fighting the Persians. They eventually selected Jovian, Commander of the Imperial Guard, after their first choice had resolutely declined the honour, claiming that he was too old and sickly.

Importantly for Christianity and the great churches of Constantinople, Jovian was Christian and all future Emperors would profess to this faith. In fact, his religion proved to be his most significant contribution to posterity for he too did not last long as sole Augustus.

During the slow and initially harassed retreat back to Constantinople, Jovian was mysteriously found dead in bed on the 16th of February 364 CE in his overnight quarters in the little town of Dadastana, midway between Ancyra and Nicea [respectively modern Ankara and Iznik, Anatolia, Turkey]. His demise was diplomatically but perhaps inaccurately declared accidental, being attributed either to bad mushrooms or excessive wine consumed at dinner, or to charcoal vapours from a warming brazier reacting adversely with fresh plaster in the poorly ventilated room in which he slept.

The next forty years saw further wars, rebellions, political intrigue and much bloodletting. There was also a succession of Augusti and Caesars.

Another senior soldier, Valentinian I, who was of Illyrian peasant background and a devout Christian, albeit still capable of great cruelty, succeeded Jovian by military acclamation. He appointed his younger but even more potentially brutal brother, Valens, as co-Augustus, and later did the same with his elder son, Gratian, even though the boy was only seven at the time.

Valentian I died over eleven years after his accession, as the result an apoplectic fit when involved in an angry audience with the leaders of a small warring Germanic tribe, the Quadi, whom he considered to have disrespectfully insulted him and his Empire. On his deathbed, he also appointed his other young son, a namesake and only four, as co-Augustus.

Valens subsequently managed to lead his army into a disastrous battle against the Goths at Adrianople [modern Edirne, European Turkey]. Here, on the 9th of August 378 CE, he and two-thirds of his legions perished.

Gratian, now nineteen and in charge of the Western Empire, believed that he needed help to prevent the threat to the east worsening. He could not rely on his remaining co-Augustus because his younger brother, Valentinian II, was still only seven. In the most significant decision of his short reign, he therefore fatefully chose a 31-year old nobleman, Theodosius, who had retired to his family’s Spanish estates after his namesake father had been executed by Valens for supposed court intrigue.

Both father and son, though, had previously enjoyed successful military careers. Gratian fatefully remembered these attributes when summoning from premature retirement the younger Theodosius, who quickly proved his worth in the east and was thereby soon appointed, in January 379 CE, co-Augusti there.

The choice proved to be a masterstroke but not because of Theodosius I’s military skills. Instead, he mainly used his superb diplomatic and negotiating abilities to achieve peace with the Goths and thereby probably save the Eastern Empire from being overrun by barbarian tribes. By doing so, he surely earned his posthumous suffix of ‘the Great’.

Meanwhile, Gratian in the west, although highly intelligent and capable, had become rather complacent. He clearly began to prefer sport to ruling attentively and barbarians in his entourage and army, especially handsome young blond Germans in his personal guard, to the Roman elements.

Consequently, as had happened before him to Constans, who shared similar predilections, he was subjected to murderous revolt and usurpation. He was assassinated at Lugdunum in Gaul [modern Lyons, France] on the 25th of August 383 CE whilst attending a banquet with the successful rebels under supposed safe conduct.

Theodosius I eventually crushed the usurpation. However, Valentinian II, now aged twenty-one and given control of the west, was subject to another and was found dead in his quarters at Vienne, Gaul [modern France], on the 15th of May 392 CE.

Theodosius I eventually crushed this usurpation too. However, shortly afterwards, in the year after he had abolished the ancient Olympic Games as being too pagan, the Emperor died at Mediolanum [modern Milan, Italy] on the 17th of January 395 CE at the age of forty-eight.

As Valentinian II had been childless, Theodosius I’s two young sons, 16 year-old Arcadius and 10 year-old Honorius, succeeded him as co-Emperors. Unfortunately neither boy possessed their father’s great political and military skills and the Empire was to pay dearly for this deficiency.

Theodosius the Great was the last Emperor to rule over a united Empire before the slow but inexorable loss of the west over the next eighty years. An early symbol of this steady decline was that Rome itself, in Honorius’ sphere of influence, was sacked by the Goths led by Alaric in 410 CE.

Meanwhile, Arcadius managed to lose one of his own important inheritances, perhaps because of the dissolute lifestyle that he allowed his domineering wife, Euxodia, to enjoy. The Empress’ excesses were condemned by the Bishop of Constantinople, John Chrysostom, whom her husband, at her prompting, accordingly exiled twice.

On the evening of the second occasion, on the 24th of June 404 CE, perhaps because of arson by opponents of the exile, the Magna Ecclesia, or ‘Great Church’, caught fire. A strong north wind subsequently spread the flames to the nearby Senate.

By the morning of the 25th of June 404 CE, both the Senate and the Magna Ecclesia were blackened ruins.

Chapter B.η

The Thracian

(Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], about 123 years later, 1st August 527 CE)

Arcadius died in 408 CE and was succeeded as Emperor in the east by his infant son, Theodosius II, whose main significance to posterity was being nominally responsible for commissioning new surrounding walls for Constantinople. These massive defences, begun in 413 CE when the new Emperor was just a 12 year-old boy, successfully helped to repel attacks until the Ottoman conquest over a millennium later and still stand today.

Theodosius II unfortunately inherited many of the traits of his father rather than namesake grandfather. Consequently, throughout his reign of thirty-two years, he was easily dominated, especially by the women in his close family, beginning with his older sister, Pulcheria.

Pulcheria enjoyed power. She was also extremely pious and therefore took great pleasure in personally overseeing the rebuilding of the Magna Ecclesia, which was restored on the lines of the original basilica and formally dedicated by Theodosius II in 415 CE.

A very eventful century would pass before further major rebuilding on the site of the church was required. During this period, more Augusti came and went, there were more significant political intrigues, religious disputes and wars, with Attila the Hun appearing into history, and, on the 4th of September 476 CE, the loss of Rome with the abdication of the last Emperor in the west, Romulus Augustus.

The event is generally accepted as signifying the end of the Roman Empire in the west. Romulus Augustus’ name is ironic in this context, being a combination of that of one of the founders of Rome with that of the first Emperor.

About four years afterwards, in what was then faraway Armenia, the first domed basilica in the country was completed in Tekor [modern Digor, eastern Anatolia, Turkey] on the orders of local Prince Sahak Kamsarakan. The building, dedicated to warrior-saint, St. Sarkis, martyred over a century before when captured by the Persians, was subsequently consecrated by the Patriarch of the national Apostolic Church.

Previously, in 301 CE, the then independent kingdom of Armenia had been the first country in the world to establish Christianity as the official state religion. This occurred twenty-nine years prior to Constantine I doing the same in Byzantium.

The modern state of Armenia only has a fraction of the territory once occupied in ancient times. The homeland used to cover the eponymous plateau, plus central and eastern Anatolia and the southwest Caucasus, an area that spread from the Black to the Caspian Seas.

The Armenians occupied the highlands overlooking Syria and Mesopotamia to the south. They also lived at major crossroads of the ancient world, straddling the trade routes from Arabia, Persia, India and China to and from Russia to the north and the rest of Europe to the west.

The people who occupied the Armenian plateau were in a position not only to dominate the lowlands to the south and the lucrative trade routes but also to benefit economically from the very fertile local valleys. Consequently, the country has been fought over throughout history, not least at the time of the Byzantines, when the region was located between two mighty and bellicose rival Empires.

With the expansion of the Empire of Rome eastwards, Armenia inevitably became an area of contention between the Romans and Persians until the once independent kingdom was finally conquered and divided between them in 387 CE. The east of the country fell under the suzerainty of the Zoroastrian-worshipping Sassanid Shahs.

The eastern Armenians, however, shed a lot of bloodshed in ensuring a degree of autonomy from their Persian overlords, in particular retaining the freedom to practise Christianity. Consequently, the building of new churches in their country continued.

Heavily involved in the building of St. Sarkis, which stood as a testament to their craftsmanship until a severe earthquake in 1912, was an extended family of stonemasons from Ani. This city is no longer extant but was located, in what is now modern eastern Anatolia, Turkey, close to the Armenian border, 22 kilometres [13.7 miles] south-west of Tekor.

Ani was once the capital of the independent Armenian kingdom. The city was based around a fortress, set in a defensively strong and panoramically spectacular hilltop location, aside the Akhurian River.

Ani had become known as the ‘City of 1001 Churches’ because of the many eponymous buildings constructed by the obviously very devout population. In other ways too, the metropolis also came to rival in splendour the great cities of the period within the Byzantine Empire.

The extended family of Armenian stonemasons from Ani, who had practised their trade for generations back into the mists of time, had been for many years heavily involved in the construction of the churches and other structures in their city and elsewhere in their homeland. They had become so proficiently expert at their work that local architects were always keen to enlist them for major projects. The significance to this story of these excellent craftsmen and the building of St. Sarkis should become apparent later.

Almost fifty years after the consecration of St. Sarkis, on the 1st of August 527 CE in Constantinople, another Byzantine Emperor who would later earn the posthumous suffix of ‘the Great’ became sole Augustus in the east on the death of his uncle. The name of this Romanised Thracian of humble background was Justinian.

Justinian I’s reign, however, began inauspiciously and he was almost deposed, with, strangely from a modern perspective, chariot racing being the spark for the relevant trouble.

Chapter B.θ

The Christening

(Ani, Persian Armenia [in modern eastern Anatolia, Turkey, close to the Armenian border], same day)

Coincidentally on the same day that Justinian I became sole Emperor, in faraway Ani in Persian Armenia a baby boy was being christened. The ceremony appropriately took place in one of the attractive and sturdy churches in the city that his extended family of stonemasons had helped to build.

The boy was christened ‘Armen’, or ‘Armen’’ in the Armenian alphabet, which purely coincidentally was an appellation akin to that of a young hero of the same nationality in this author’s long episodic story for eunuch.org titled ‘Tamerlane’s Boys’.

Chapter B.ι

The Riots

(Magna Ecclesia, or ‘Great Church’, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], over 4 years later, 13th January 532 CE)

In ancient Rome, four main teams contested chariot races, namely the blues, greens, reds and whites, all with often fanatical followers. However, by now in Constantinople only the first two remained important, and their significance and that of their factional supporters had become rather profound.

The blues and greens had developed interests and influence outside of mere chariot racing. With the population having no other organised outlet through which to express their beliefs, the two factions also became involved in political, military and even religious matters, usually on opposing sides, with each for example favouring different Christian theologies. At times, they were additionally prone to riot, either against each other, the Imperial government or even the church hierarchy.

Some followers even formed street-gangs, responsible for robberies and killings. Despite being a chariot racing fan and blues supporter himself, Justinian I was determined to crack down indiscriminately on such associated lawlessness and reduce the influence of the two factions.

Such sway was boosted by the possession by the blues and greens of followers from some of Constantinople’s most important aristocratic families, some of whom were potential rivals for Justinian I’s throne. This fact gave further motive to the Emperor’s desire to curtail the influence of the factions.

Justinian I therefore sought to reduce the privileges and powers of the blues and greens. The Emperor also punished the excesses of any followers severely.

An example of such severe punishment was the arrest and condemning to death of seven ringleaders from both the blues and greens after a riot in the wake of chariot racing in Constantinople’s hippodrome on the 10th of January 532 CE. However, this event now almost led to the deposition of Justinian I.

Five of the seven ringleaders were actually hanged but two, one from each faction, managed to escape, although they were eventually tracked to a monastery, where they sought sanctuary and where their pursuers sought to starve them into surrender. Followers of the blues and greens, now unusually united over an issue, subsequently demonstrated in support of the pair of trapped fugitives, demanding that they be pardoned and set free.

Current public discontent had earlier been exacerbated by the unpopular new taxes and taxation reforms that Justinian I had recently introduced. The measures were needed but the fact that the officials who oversaw them were brutal and corrupt did not help acceptance. As a result, the Emperor’s standing had deteriorated substantially and consequently his position had by now become precarious but he did not appear to realise this situation.

Instead, three days later, whilst the two fugitives were still being besieged in their monastery sanctuary, Justinian I unwisely allowed another chariot racing event to take place in the hippodrome, which was adjacent both to his palace complex and to the Magna Ecclesia. The Emperor’s own appearance in the circus was then ominously greeted by a very unfriendly uproar.

The vast crowd of spectators congregated in the huge hippodrome chanted in unison “Nikā, Nikā”, meaning ‘Win, Win’, which the factions normally screamed at each other and in support of their teams. However, on this occasion, they were clearly menacingly addressing their vociferous shouting at Justinian I.

The chariot racing subsequently began but the most of the crowd did not stay to watch. They instead poured out of the hippodrome to form a massive mob, intent on not only riot but also revolt.

The mob additionally set out to destroy. On that day, many of Constantinople’s finest buildings were set to the torch and, as a result, heavy smoke would cloud the city for days afterwards.

Amongst the buildings burnt down were the Magna Ecclesia and Senate House once more, along with Hagia Eirene, and, on this occasion, there was no doubt that arson was the cause.

Chapter B.κ

The Slaughter

(Hippodrome, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], 5 days later, 18th January 532 CE)

Over the next five days, the rioting and arson attacks continued. During this period, Justinian I attempted to appease the mob by acceding to demands to dismiss his most unpopular officials.

On the fifth day, Justinian I also again visited the hippodrome, where the mob now regularly gathered to debate tactics. Here, he publicly accepted the blame for the trouble and promised amnesty to everyone if they desisted from further rioting. However, his utterances were met with vociferous abuse and he felt obliged once more to retreat to his nearby palace, whilst the gathered masses searched for another candidate to be Emperor.

The mob found the elderly Hypatius, who, like Justinian I himself, was a nephew of the previous Emperor. This man actually had no political ambitions at all but he was forcibly carried on shoulders to the hippodrome, where, there being no diadem present, he reluctantly allowed himself to be crowned with a borrowed gold necklace and seated on the throne in the Imperial box.

Meanwhile, in the nearby palace, Justinian I was contemplating fleeing Constantinople. However, his formidable wife, Theodora, intervened.

Theodora was herself, like Justinian I, of humble stock but her background was also exotic and very unusual for an Empress. Her father had been a bear-keeper for the greens at the hippodrome and her mother had been a circus acrobat.

Theodora herself had become a comic actress and mimic before graduating to being an infamous courtesan. However, Justinian I did not care, having become completely infatuated with her, and he even changed the law so that someone of her previous professional status could marry him.

Now, at this moment of grave crisis, Theodora managed to stiffen Justinian I’s resolve. She was helped by the fact that three of her husband’s best generals happened to be in the palace at the time.

With Justinian I’s agreement, two of the generals concerned, Mundus and the great Belisarius, left the palace to assemble their soldiers and quietly advance by separate routes on the hippodrome. There, in reaction to a signal, their forces simultaneously invaded the circus and attacked the still gathered mob.

By now, the third general, the great Narses, commander of the Imperial bodyguard and an Armenian eunuch, had positioned his own forces at the main exits of the hippodrome in readiness to kill anyone attempting to escape. The result of this well-concerted action was a great slaughter, with the sand in the arena turned red with blood.

At the end, about 30,000 bodies were scattered around the hippodrome, with Hypatius joining the dead on the next day when he was executed with his brother at the insistence of Theodora and their corpses were cast into the sea.

Chapter B.λ

The Reconstruction

(Magna Ecclesia, or ‘Great Church’, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], 39 days later, 23rd February 532 CE)

With commendable resolution and energy, Justinian I subsequently quickly began the reconstruction of the finally pacified but now devastated Constantinople, giving special attention to building a new basilica on the site of the destroyed Magna Ecclesia. Superficially astonishingly, work commenced there just thirty-nine days after the slaughter in the city’s hippodrome, which ended what was later to become known as the ‘Nikā’ revolt after the mob’s favourite chant. However, the remarkable swiftness of this start was actually due to the fact that the Emperor had already, prior to the insurrection, been planning to replace the Magna Ecclesia with another cathedral, which was to be exceptionally magnificent in order to distinguish his reign.

For the project, Justinian I had already appointed two Greek architects from south-west Asia Minor [modern Anatolia, Turkey], namely Anthemius of Tralles, which is modern Aydin, and Isidore of Miletus, which is no longer extant, with the ruins lying 5 kilometres [3.1 miles] north of modern Akkay. The Emperor instructed them to produce a radical design because he did not intend, as had happened previously during Theodosius II’s reign, to rebuild the new basilica on the same lines as the original. He instead wanted to construct the biggest and most magnificent cathedral in the whole world, which would be completely different to its predecessors and be testament to his own religious devotion, as well as undoubtedly his munificence and personal greatness.

The architects produced plans for a huge square basilica, with high central dome, and Justinian I was personally present when work on construction began on the 23rd February 532 CE, almost 1½ millennia ago.

Chapter B.μ

The Inauguration

(Hagia Sophia, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], almost 6 years later, 27th December 537 CE)

Justinian I allowed his architects unfettered resources to construct his new basilica for another reason besides his desire for the finished building to be of unparalleled splendour. The Emperor also wanted the work to proceed quickly because, at fifty years of age and having suffered the recent dangerous revolt, he was feeling his mortality and was determined to view his monument before he died. Huge manpower was therefore enlisted to ensure rapid progress without diminishing quality.

Provincial governors were also instructed to have ancient sites inspected to identify remains of classical structures that might be suitable for the new basilica. As a result, material contributions from all over the Empire arrived for incorporation in the cathedral. These donations included eight porphyry columns from an old temple of the Sun in Rome and the same number of green marble ones from Artemis’ sanctuary in Ephesus in western Asia Minor [modern Anatolia, Turkey], which like Miletus to the south is no longer extant. The city’s ruins are instead located just south of modern Selçuk.

Finally, just five years, ten months and four days after work had begun, the new basilica was completed in remarkably fast time and ready to be inaugurated, and Justinian I’s architects and builders then proved to have served their Emperor extremely well. The huge cathedral was truly splendid.

One contemporary chronicler commented that the inside of the basilica was so full of light and sunshine that the building appeared to possess some inner radiance of its own. This ambience was aided by two factors.

First were the forty windows around the base of the huge central dome, which was almost fifty metres [164 feet] above the floor and just short of thirty-three [108′] in diameter. As a result, this beautiful structure, decorated with a bejewelled cross portrayed against a background of stars, was much bigger than anything similar previously attempted.

Second were the lovely mosaics. In sparkling golden gilt and colourful blue, green and red tiles, these decorations covered vast areas above the lower walls.

The furnishings inside the new basilica were also magnificent. The high altar was encrusted with gold and jewels and covered by a silver ciborium, or awning, supported by four ornately adorned columns. The iconostasis, or screen bearing icons separating the sanctuary from the nave, measured over fifteen metres [49′] and also comprised solid silver, whilst the very big circular ambo, or pulpit, was made of multi-coloured marble and mosaic.

The alleged holy relics kept in the new basilica were additionally of supposed spectacular importance. They included items claimed to be the actual cross on which Christ was crucified, the baby Jesus’ swaddling clothes and the table used at the Last Supper.

Justinian I entered his new Church of the Holy Wisdom two days after Christmas Day, 537 CE, in order to inaugurate the basilica formerly. Given the splendid surrounds, it is unsurprising that he was then overheard proudly saying something to the heavens.

Whilst referring to the sadly no longer extant great Jewish temple in Jerusalem, Justinian I proudly declared “Solomon, I have surpassed you!”

PART Γ

THE PROBLEM

Chapter Γ.ά

The Stonemasons

(Near Nisibis, southern Persian Armenia [modern Nusaybin, south-east Turkey], almost 1 year later, 18th December 538 CE)

The peripatetic stonemasons from Ani often took their whole close families with them, as the projects on which they worked usually took a long time, sometimes many years, to complete. Consequently, young Armen mainly lived with his father and mother and other relatives away from his home city.

As Armen grew, he also became rather accustomed from a very early age to spending time with his father, a senior stonemason, on whatever building site the man was currently involved. From just a toddler, the incessantly curious and highly intelligent boy found the busy activities on the various projects very intriguing, gaining particular delight in watching the different craftsmen plying their trades and seeing whatever edifice they were presently working on taking shape.

Armen additionally exhibited early determination to follow the family tradition by becoming a senior stonemason like his father. The man was obviously pleased by this attitude and intended to help his son in every way.

The very young Armen was, though, initially a handicap to the work of his father, who felt obliged for safety to keep a constant watch on his son whilst he was on site. He also, as a good parent and mentor, attempted to answer the regular stream of questions asked by the constantly inquisitive boy.

As Armen grew older, however, he actually transformed into a benefit on site. The boy would fetch and carry and hold tools for his father. He would also attempt some simple stonemasonery of his own as he began to learn the skills of the trade better, proving particularly adept at carving.

A particular specialism of Armen’s father was the construction of domes for churches. The relevant expertise had been passed down through the family since his own great-grandfather had helped build the basilica of St. Sarkis and the skill was now slowly being transferred to his son.

By the time that the highly intelligent Armen reached the age of eleven, he had been taught to read and write as well. Literacy was useful for senior stonemasons for not only carving inscriptions but also studying architectural plans.

By now, Armen was now a particularly excellent carver, despite his tender age. As a result, the boy performed much of the relevant work for his father.

Armen had also become more fascinated about domes than any other feature of building, not least because his family had been involved in the construction of so many. The boy therefore asked a lot of questions about them and took particular attention to the answers, for which posterity has much to be grateful.

Armen’s cleverness was additionally now being revealed in the often good suggestions that he frequently proffered to resolve problems, particularly issues of design. Consequently, the boy’s ambitious parents started to wonder whether they should seek to apprentice their clearly gifted son to an architect instead of allowing him to concentrate on stonemasonery.

Architects were generally at the very top of the contemporary construction industry, with all other building workers being subordinate to them. This fact was reflected in their high social status and remunerations, as well as in later renown, when only their names and the commissioners of projects were usually remembered. Meanwhile, in comparison, stonemasons, although vital to the relevant work, were just considered to be disposable artisans of relatively lowly status.

Unfortunately, consideration of a possible ambitious career change for Armen suddenly ceased when disaster struck him and his family. This calamity happened as they were relocating, despite the winter weather, from one finished building project to another fresh one in Nisibis, in what was then the southern part of Persian Armenia [modern Nusaybin, south-east Turkey]. The city had shamefully been ceded without a fight to the Sassanid Shah Shapur by the new Byzantine Emperor Jovian in 363 CE, as part of the deal allowing him and his army to retreat safely out of the region after the death in battle of Julian.

The family, travelling in caravan, never reached Nisibis but was instead waylaid en-route. This unfortunate happening occurred just one week before Christmas Day 538 CE and nine days prior to the first anniversary of the inauguration of the Hagia Sophia in faraway Constantinople.

At this time, Nisibis, in the forested foothills of what is now called the ‘Tur Abdin’, meaning ‘Mountains of the Servants [of God]’, was situated in a region whose natural fertility was boosted by clever irrigation systems. Fruit and grain were lucratively cultivated and much local wine was produced.

Several important trade routes also passed through Nisibis and the family caravan of the stonemasons was travelling along a currently otherwise quiet forested stretch of one of these when they were ambushed by Arab raiders.

Chapter Γ.β

The Monks

(Monophysite monastery, Resafa [modern Rusâfa], Syria, 1 week later, Christmas Day, 25th December 538 CE)

Although Arabs contemporarily mainly populated the deserts of Arabia far to the south of Armenia, they were also at the time found throughout the intervening steppelands of Byzantine Palestine and Syria and Persian Mesopotamia. They played a key role in local trade because of their camels, which provided the only realistic means of transporting commodities through the prevalent arid terrain and whose dung supplied vital manure for land of marginal fertility. Their nomadic tribes were also buyers of many of the goods and could provide useful military service for the two rival Empires.

From the western hinterland of Mesopotamia and the eastern edges of Syria and Palestine, including the outskirts of the great city of Antioch [modern Antakya, south-east Turkey], in a wide territorial belt south to the Gulf of Aqaba, settled communities therefore mixed with the nomadic Arabs. However, despite their commercial and military importance, the wandering tribes were generally held in quiet contempt by the so-called civilised peoples of the region.

The reason for such contempt was, however, not just because of the nomadic lifestyle of the Arabs. Their occasional predilection for unlawful private enterprise, such as the ambush for purposes of robbery of the stonemasons’ caravan, was an additional significant factor.

Certain rich Arab traders, though, who had converted to Christianity in this pre-Islamic era, did establish some friendships amongst the settled communities of Palestine, Syria and Mesopotamia. Amongst these allies were monks of the Monophysite Church.

To contemporary Byzantines in general, although not to the Empress Theodora who was a secret follower, the Monophysite Church was heretical. Unlike the established ‘Nestorian’ creed in Constantinople, this Christian denomination did not accept the doctrine of the two natures, divine and human, in the one person of Jesus, as formulated by the ecclesiastical Council of Chalcedon in 451 CE.

Through the missionary zeal of Syrian monk, Barsauma, who had been bishop of Nisibis from 484 to 496 CE, Monophysitism had become the predominant creed in Syria. This Christian denomination would also spread to Armen’s homeland and Egypt, where respectively the local Armenian and Coptic Churches still accept the doctrine today.

Arab Sheikhs of the Jafnid family of the Banu Ghassân tribe had become so rich, not entirely by legal means, that they had, despite their nomadic traditions, become landowners of large tracts of territory around Resafa [modern Rusâfa] in Monophysite northern Syria. This metropolis, located west of the Euphrates River in the middle of apparent wilderness, about twenty kilometres south of the modern city of Raqqa, was alternatively called ‘Sergiopolis’ after St. Sergius, a locally martyred Roman Christian soldier.

As a result of his local martyrdom, St. Sergius was revered in northern Syria and Resafa, originally merely a frontier fort, subsequently grew rapidly as a city around the church built on the sacred spot where he was buried after being executed for his faith. Such swift development, which included a Monophysite monastery, arose because of the desire by many of the Christians in the region of various ethnicity to make pilgrimage there, especially to perform baptisms in the saint’s holy sanctuary.

Being the major and richest landowners in the area, and also having significant numerical presence, the Christian Arab Banu Ghassân tribe effectively controlled Resafa and the majority of the city’s most lucrative activities, all invariably associated with the cult of St. Sergius. Given these circumstances, the Monophysite monks of the local monastery, who, like many people in the region of the time were mainly of Greek origin, cultivated their friendship.

Consequently, the local monks were always happy to perform favours for the Banu Ghassâns. One of the commonest of these reflected their skill in doing something that many of them perpetrated on themselves in order to be able to concentrate better on celibate contemplation of the divine within the quiet cloisters of their monastery.

Even Christmas Day was not too sacrosanct for performance of the favour, as the unfortunate Armen was now about to discover. The 11 year-old boy, who had grown to become not only an excellent carver of stone but also exceptionally beautiful, with brunet skin and dark brown eyes and hair, had formed part of the booty that the Arab raiders had robbed from the caravan of the Armenian stonemasons.

The Arabs were members of the Banu Ghassân, whose tribal wealth and Christianity did not prevent them from seeking to add adventurously and excitingly to their income by making occasional raids to seek plunder in Persian Armenia. Young Armen, who, by virtue of his obvious exceptional beauty, would clearly sell lucratively well in the Byzantine slave-markets, was naturally identified as prime booty.

The Arabs also recognised that Armen’s value in the Byzantine slave-markets could be substantially increased and so they again asked the monks in Resafa to do the relevant favour for them. During the week after his capture, the boy had consumed much of several days forcibly travelling the two hundred and fifty kilometres [155 miles] from near Nisibis to Resafa on a fast camel, whilst firmly held by an adult rider sitting behind him. He had also spent a couple more naked and starving and, after being compelled to swallow a strong purgative, suffering bodily purging, whilst locked in a tiny dank windowless monastery cell, whose sole furnishings were a bed and a bucket.

During this week, Armen’s mental distress at the disastrous happening in his life had been compounded by not knowing what had happened to his father or mother or the rest of his family amidst the mayhem of the Arab ambush of the stonemasons’ caravan. The events of that fateful attack had for him passed extremely quickly for, before he could do anything to prevent his capture, the shocked boy had been scooped up from the road on which he had been walking by the rider on a camel. The dextrous man had subsequently speeded away from the scene with the young pre-targeted prize, whose initial desperate struggles to avoid his destiny were quickly terminated by a knife threatening to cut his jugular fatally.

On Christmas Day 538 CE, some monks finally came to collect Armen from his tiny cell and, soon afterwards, he found himself naked and resolutely strapped, spreadeagled on his back, to an old, heavily bloodstained table, with his mouth gagged and his smooth scrotum tightly bound by constricting cord. The petrified boy naturally wondered what was about to happen to him.

Armen discovered his answer when he felt one of the monks, as expert at his occasional trade as the boy’s father had been at stonemasonery, next placed a well-used but efficiently honed and therefore extremely sharp knife against his young imminent victim’s vulnerable bare body. The specific choice of very sensitive target for the blade initially provided the necessary clue.

Armen was about to find, like a certain Ottoman servant did long afterwards (see ‘Ottomans ۱ : The Mountain Flower’ by the same author), that Monophysite monks were not averse to perpetrating a particular deed as a favour. The viciously sharp tip of the knife was now pressing against the delicate middle of the boy’s normally cute but currently tightly bound and therefore rather bulbous smooth scrotum.

Shortly afterwards, the monk began his incision into Armen’s scrotum, which would not now be bulbous in shape for very long or indeed ever again.

Chapter Γ.γ

The Market

(Antioch, Syria, Byzantine Empire [modern Antakya, south-east Turkey], about 3 months later, end of March 539 CE)

Coincidentally on the same day that faraway Byzantine Mediolanum [modern Milan, Italy] fell to the besieging Ostrogoths and the city was subsequently brutally sacked and destroyed, with much of the population slaughtered, Armen was wishing that he too could be killed. The new young eunuch had been castrated by the monk in Resafa at an age about three years older than the average considered safest for boys being gelded in the Byzantine Empire. Nevertheless, the operation had proved successful and his testicles had been removed and the necessary incision in his scrotum neatly stitched without later infection or other undesirable complications.

More than a month was subsequently spent by Armen recuperating in seclusion from the mental and physical torment caused by what had been perpetrated on him. During this period, the boy was well cared for but gained little solace from also becoming aware that many of the monks in the monastery, including the one who had castrated him, had been similarly gelded too, although mainly voluntarily.

During this period of recuperation, Armen’s scrotal stitching had been carefully removed. Left behind was a barely discernible scar on the boy’s now empty sac.

The highly intelligent Armen also quickly began to pick up the Greek tongue, used by the monks. By the time that he left the monastery, the clever boy was already conversant with the basics of the verbal language.

Another journey was next undertaken, of similar distance to the hectic rush from near Nisibis to Resafa on a fast camel but going westwards and conducted at a more leisurely pace as part of a trading caravan. Armen now travelled under close supervision to Syrian Antioch on the River Orontes [modern Antakya, Turkey]. This ancient city is not to be confused with another of the same name that was located on the Anatolian plateau in Pisidia [near modern Akşehir, Turkey], which St. Paul once visited.

Syrian Antioch was one of the biggest and most important cities in the Byzantine Empire and, as such, was a major commercial centre. Consequently, the new young eunuch, Armen, whose successful gelding had substantially increased his retail value, now found himself in one of the metropolis’ slave-markets.

Armen’s current desire to die arose from the fact that he was currently standing disgracefully naked on an auction dais in the slave-market, with his shame compounded by being compelled to expose his gelded genitalia to the full view of prospective purchasers of both genders.

Chapter Γ.δ

The Voyage

(Seleucia Pieria, Byzantine Empire [near modern Samandağ, south-east Turkey], about 2 weeks later, early April 539 CE)

The Orontes was not navigable from Antioch to the river’s out-fall into the eastern Mediterranean Sea, as the watercourse plunged south-west into a gorge, falling 50 metres [164′] over 16 kilometres [10 miles]. Consequently, Armen’s buyer, a Carian slave-merchant, was forced to transport the boy, along with a number of additional purchased human acquisitions and other goods, by road in several ox-drawn wagons to the coastal harbour of Seleucia Pieria [near modern Samandağ, southeast Turkey].

Seleucia Pieria had been founded over eight centuries previously as the seaport for Antioch by Seleucus I Nicator, one of the generals who had carved up Alexander the Great’s Empire. Both Diocletian and Constantius Chlorus had enlarged the harbour within the last 50 years prior to Armen’s arrival.

Armen had never seen the true sea before, let alone travel on a ship. The nearest that the boy had previously come to viewing such a body of water had been the great Lake Van in his homeland.

Now, however, at the spring reopening of the Mediterranean sea-lanes, Armen was not only to see but also to voyage on a ship on such a vast body of water, as he progressed towards his destiny.

Chapter Γ.ε

The Resale

(Miletus, Caria, Byzantine Empire [ruins lying 5 kilometres, or 3.1 miles, north of modern Akkay, southwest Anatolia, Turkey], about 5 months later, late August 539 CE)

Eunuchs were very popular throughout the Byzantine Empire. Various uses were found for them.

At the highest levels, Emperors were generally happy to appoint eunuchs to powerful positions because such rulers could expect greater loyalty from them than from potential rival courtiers for, by virtue of their genital loss, they could never aspire to the throne. As a result, many occupied some of the most important state bureaucratic, military and religious posts, with a few such situations becoming held by custom.

Eunuchs were also welcomed into upper and middle class households, where they could be trusted to serve the womenfolk without sexual threat. At the other end of the social scale, they were also sought for boy brothels.

Fortunately for Armen, the Carian slave-trader who had bought him did not resell him to a boy brothel. He was instead purchased, at a significant increase to the price paid for him in Antioch, to an upper class household.

At the time, possession of castrated boys, who were pretty and acted as their slave minions, by Byzantine matrons was fashionably popular. This fact followed late Roman tradition, despite the still levied tax on imported eunuchs imposed over two and a half centuries before by Emperor Aurelian [see last year’s seasonal story by the same author, ‘Christmas Offering for the Emperor’].

The Carian slave-trader had known about both this retail opportunity and where a vacancy for a relevant young product existed in a particularly rich household in his home city of Miletus, from which he could expect to gain a substantial quick profit on Armen. The latter assumption proved correct when he resold the boy privately.

Consequently, Armen was spared the acute embarrassment of another public auction. The boy also found himself in the service of an outwardly stern but actually rather kind elderly Byzantine matron of Greek stock in Miletus.

Miletus was another ancient port city of the Byzantine Empire, mainly inhabited by Greeks and located at the mouth of the Maeander [modern Büyük Menderes]. This river became so famous for numerous twists and turns that the English word ‘meander’ derives from the name.

Despite his distress at his castration and reduction in status to slave, Armen rapidly adapted compliantly and competently to his new circumstances, as he had to do to survive. After almost two months of busy but untroubled work for his new Mistress, though, she one day discovered the boy looking through some books in her famous husband’s library, in which the majority of works were on science and mathematics.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked suspiciously of Armen, who had recently passed his twelfth birthday. The boy, who had not earlier noticed her arrival behind him, immediately turned round and, whilst his pretty face blushed vividly red in embarrassment, answered, in his quickly learnt and now excellent verbal Greek, “Nothing much, Mistress, just studying some books.”

“Are you sure that you weren’t try to steal some,” the woman next asked, with clear further suspicion, “as they’re valuable and could be fetch a lucrative price in the local market?” “Oh, no, Mistress,” Armen replied in desperation, fully knowing that the punishment would be severe if she decided that the boy had been contemplating theft. He would almost certainly be beaten badly and later resold, probably to a much worse owner.

“I just wanted to see, Mistress,” Armen continued, whilst, despite his mental panic, somehow remaining verbally competent and polite in response, “if there might be any books written in Armenian here, besides those in Greek and Latin. I apologise if, by doing so without permission, I have offended you or betrayed your kind trust.”

“You should know that the possibility of books written in your barbaric Armenian language being present in my husband’s library was most unlikely,” the woman commented in response, whilst obviously maintaining her suspicion about possible perfidy. “Even if some had been,” she added, “surely they would anyway have been useless to you, as surely someone of your status can’t read, even in your own native language.”

“But, Mistress, I am literate in Armenian,” Armen protested in his defence and, in response to a command from the woman, proceeded to prove his ability by writing some relevant words in his homeland’s unique alphabet on a wax stylus that happened to be present in the library.

Chapter Γ.ζ

The Lessons

(Miletus, Caria, Byzantine Empire [ruins lying 5 kilometres, or 3.1 miles, north of modern Akkay, southwest Anatolia, Turkey], about 2 months later, late October 539 CE)

Armen did have to pay a price for his unauthorised scrutiny of some of the books in the Master-of-the-Household’s library. His Mistress commanded him to become literate in Greek too because, given her own failing eyesight, she felt that having the obviously clever boy read from books to her would be a pleasant future pastime.

The price for Armen was, though, not the actual relevant crash course in Greek reading and writing but the identity of the person who provided the lessons. He was an elderly slave scribe of the Master-of-the-Household.

Armen’s Mistress was clearly aware of the difficulties that the boy would probably encounter with the scribe because she forewarned him “The old man will prove a good teacher. However, you might have to tolerate some annoyances whilst you learn.”

“The scribe is now too old and infirm to do anything more,” the Mistress continued, whilst displaying a mischievous smile, which suggested that she retained an affection for the old man, “unlike in days long past when he first proved to have certain strong passions. If now was then, I wouldn’t allow you to be left alone with him, given your prettiness.”

In reaction to the use of the word ‘prettiness’ to describe his form, Armen was initially unsure whether to be embarrassed or flattered. However, this quandary soon passed, to be replaced by more serious concern when his Mistress issued her next instruction.

“Now, though,” the Mistress ordered, “you’ll just have to put up with the old rake’s occasional fondling of your bottom during your private lessons with him!”

Chapter Γ.η

The Documents

(Miletus, Caria, Byzantine Empire [ruins lying 5 kilometres, or 3.1 miles, north of modern Akkay, southwest Anatolia, Turkey], about 1 month later, 29th November 539 CE)

About another month later, Armen’s Mistress discovered him perpetrating another unauthorised act. The boy’s difficult-to-control natural curiosity had caused him to look through some large documents that her famous husband had carelessly left on a table.

By now, just a month’s intensive lessons with the scribe had caused Armen to become quite fluent at reading and writing Greek. Neither the boy himself, nor his Mistress or the scribe, ever worked out whether this immense achievement was due to his exceptional intelligence or a desire to end the crash course as soon as possible in order to give his bottom a rest from his teacher’s frequent manual caresses.

The day on which the latest incident of unauthorised curiosity occurred was the 29th of November 539 CE when coincidentally another earthquake struck now faraway Antioch in Syria, which had suffered much over the years from such phenomena. The slave-market there, in which Armen had been so humiliatingly exhibited and sold just seven months previously, rather symbolically collapsed to the ground during this latest natural disaster to hit the city.

“What are you doing?” Armen’s Mistress again asked of him but on this occasion without suspicion in her voice. She had by now realised that, combined with a notable intellect, the boy possessed an insatiable natural curiosity, which she was happy to nurture for two main reasons.

First, from a dispassionate perspective, slaves of considerable intelligence and knowledge were extremely valuable in terms of both personal usefulness and prospective resale return. In respect of the latter, Armen, having displayed such real or potential attributes, was certainly now worth much more than the already very high price that the Mistress had originally paid for him.

Second, the Mistress had come to like Armen. The boy had proved to be pleasant, respectful and good at his duties as her minion. He had also, with the help of his Greek lessons, speedily shown himself to be especially excellent at reading for her, with his diction varying nicely according to the nature of the book and particular passage being recounted.

Armen, who had again not noticed the woman’s arrival behind him, immediately turned round and answered her question by declaring, “Nothing much, Mistress, just studying these documents.” On this occasion, the boy’s pretty face did not blush, as, having perceptively detected the recent evolution of her attitude towards him and consequently become more confident, he was not embarrassed to have been caught by her, reading her husband’s papers.

“I would not, of course, attempt to read anything of your husband’s that might be private or confidential, Mistress,” Armen continued, “but these appear to be neither. They instead seem to be plans of one of his past projects, which I find fascinating.”

Armen’s Mistress now advanced forward to stand alongside the boy and stare down at the documents in question. “I suppose that, as well as now being literate in Armenian and amazingly quickly in Greek too,” she next commented, expecting a negative response, “you can accurately read these sort of papers too.”

“Yes, I can, Mistress,” Armen, though, replied to the woman’s further amazement, as she continued to stare at the architectural drawings belonging to her husband, Isidore of Miletus, one of the famous designers of the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople.

Chapter Γ.θ

The Promotion

(Miletus, Caria, Byzantine Empire [ruins lying 5 kilometres, or 3.1 miles, north of modern Akkay, southwest Anatolia, Turkey], almost 1 month later, 25th December 539 CE)

Exactly one year after Armen had been castrated, on Christmas Day 539 CE, Isidore of Miletus and his wife and extended family attended mass in one of the city’s main churches. They were attended by their key servants.

Armen, though, was no longer attendant on Isidore’s wife but was instead serving the man’s eponymous nephew. This boy was virtually the same age as the young Armenian eunuch.

Although only a 12 year-old, the younger Isidore was already not only planning to follow his uncle into the architectural profession but also studying for the role. A few weeks previously, Armen had been assigned to be his personal slave and, as such, would sit alongside the boy throughout the relevant lessons.

“You’re too talented to merely be my wife’s minion,” the elder Isidore had advised Armen at the time, having finally ascertained the boy’s full background and personally assured himself about his current knowledge and skills, as well as future potential. “I’d like you to continue reading occasionally for her,” he added, “as she takes great pleasure in those sessions, but I’ll buy another young eunuch to serve her trivial needs. Meanwhile, you’ll attend my nephew, who’s about your age and is learning architecture. By doing so, you’ll effectively be instructed alongside him.”

The elder Isidore spoke with the voice of a man of great wisdom and learning, whose main profession had originally not even been architecture. He had been a mathematician and physicist and a teacher and writer on both subjects, as well as inventor of the t-square.

One of Isidore’s books, though, was a commentary on earlier building works and this had led him into architecture. Similarly, his collaborator in designing the Hagia Sophia, Anthemius of Tralles, had been a mathematician too.

“My young nephew will need an assistant,” the elder Isidore had advised Armen on the occasion of the boy’s promotion within his household, not only with his wife’s absolute agreement but also her passionate prompting. “The requirement,” he added, “will only increase more as he becomes older.”

“What better assistant can my nephew have than someone like you,” the elder Isidore subsequently asked in conclusion, “who has such undoubted abilities and will been taught the profession alongside him?”

Chapter Γ.ι

The Collapse

(Hagia Sophia, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], over 18 years later, end of June 558 CE)

Sadly for Armen, the younger Isidore was not a pleasant boy. Amongst his faults was being overly haughty and conscious of his social status.

Consequently, the younger Isidore made no attempt to befriend Armen or to treat him as anything other than his constantly attendant slave. In response, the young eunuch concealed his disappointment that similarly aged boys in such close association could not be more companionable to each other and also suppressed his own personal pride.

Armen instead performed with his invariable competence whatever was asked of him by his young Master, whilst displaying a rather neutral expression on his face. This façade efficiently disguised his true emotions, although sometimes this reserve became difficult to maintain, especially when the younger Isidore belittled or ignored his contribution to their relationship.

Armen, despite not being the official pupil, actually became by far the most capable architectural trainee of the pair, displaying immense natural flair for the subject. He even often found himself aiding the younger Isidore to answer questions or resolve set problems, with such assistance always accepted but never subsequently acknowledged or thanked.

The younger Isidore was not a particularly cruel Master, either emotionally or physically. He simply did not feel the need to do anything with Armen other than to use his aid without the need for acknowledgement or thanks, regardless of whether the assistance was menial or intellectual. After all, the Armenian boy was to him nothing but a gelded barbarian slave, from whom he snootily should expect help of whatever kind without the bother of displaying appreciation.

The younger Isidore eventually actually came to rely even more heavily on Armen’s aid as they progressed into manhood and he took over his uncle’s architectural practice on the man’s death. Realising his own deficiencies, he also subsequently decided to be effectively the enterprise’s front-man, negotiating deals whilst allowing his eunuch slave to be the secret real design genius behind the scenes, whose successes brought much more important and lucrative business.

This was still the situation when Isidore was summoned from Miletus to Constantinople by Emperor Justinian I, who was still on the Byzantine throne, in mid 558 CE. Both the supposed architect and Armen were at the time aged thirty, with the former, following contemporary fashion, heavily bearded and the latter, denoting his eunuch status, clean-shaven.

Since Isidore and Armen first met, many tumultuous events had happened within the Byzantine Empire. The west had been plagued by a long war with the Ostrogoths until they were finally defeated by Narses.

Narses was the same Armenian eunuch general who had played such an important role in suppressing the Nikā revolt. He had also, like Armen, once been abducted from his homeland in boyhood and subsequently been castrated and enslaved.

Whilst the west was suffering, the Eastern Empire had also been devastatingly attacked by the very able Persian King, Chosroes I. Amongst his successes had been the sacking of Antioch in mid 540 CE.

Armen had been sorry to hear about the fate of this great city of the east, despite the humiliation that he had personally suffered there just over a year previously. Because the citizenry had fiercely resisted the attack by Chosroes I’s army, the Persian King allowed his soldiers to celebrate their ultimate victory with much looting, raping and murder.

Chosroes I also subsequently deported the surviving population of Antioch to what was then part of Persia, where he established a city for them near his capital of Ctesiphon, whose ruins now lie about 35 kilometres [21.7 miles] south of modern Baghdad in Iraq. The King and the Byzantines did not permanently end their war until the year in which Isidore and Armen were first summoned to Constantinople.

The Imperial summons had come because the great dome of Hagia Sophia, which had been damaged in earthquakes in August 553 and December 557 CE, finally completely collapsed as the result of another on the 7th of May 558. The altar, ciborium above, and ambon had also been destroyed.

Justinian I commanded Isidore, nephew of one of the original architects, to restore the great basilica not only to former glory but also to a condition in which the dome would not again collapse as the result of another earthquake. The commissioned so-called professional, as he looked around the scene of devastation inside the church on this day in late June 558 CE, of course, did not have a clue how to meet the entrustment.

If his immensely more talented late uncle and Anthemius of Tralles had been unable to build such a resilient dome, the Isidore of Miletus of the current generation wondered how he could possibly do so.

Chapter Γ.κ

The Solution

(Hagia Sophia, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], a few days later, end of June 558 CE)

The solution reached by the Isidore of Miletus of the current generation was, of course, to delegate the task quietly to Armen. The eunuch, having carefully but quickly studied the original plans of the Hagia Sophia and surveyed the current scene of devastation, soon produced a proposal for the rebuilding of the dome, which his Master not only accepted but also as usual publicly promoted as his own.

Isidore, though, refused to accept Armen’s proposal to strengthen the arches that supported the dome, which had been largely undamaged by the recent earthquakes. He suggested that such expensive work was unnecessary.

Armen’s proposal for the rebuilding of the dome, sadly excluding at Isidore’s insistence the strengthening of the arches, was ultimately accepted by everyone involved. The plan entailed using lighter materials and elevating the structure by 6¼ metres [20.5′], which extended the interior height to just over 55½ metres [182′].

The subsequent reconstruction of the Hagia Sophia in line with Armen’s accepted rebuilding proposal took over five years to complete and gave the basilica the 6th century form in which the building survives today.

Chapter Γ.λ

The Reconsecration

(Hagia Sophia, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul, Turkey], over 5 years later, Christmas Eve, 24th December 563 CE)

The reconsecration of the fully repaired Hagia Sophia was presided over by Patriarch Eutychius in the presence of the ageing Justinian I and his court in great splendour on Christmas Eve 563 CE. The Emperor was heard to comment that his great basilica looked even more magnificent than when first built and congratulated the younger Isidore of Miletus on his genius. He also rewarded the so-called architect with much gold.

Armen, who had actually been responsible for the redesign and much of the supervision of the reconstruction, of course and as usual, received no acknowledgement or thanks at all. Nor did he gain any monetary reward.

Armen, however, as he gazed at his splendid achievement on the day of the basilica’s reconsecration, felt that the sight alone was sufficient reward and a most suitable personal Christmastime present.

PART Δ

EPILOGUE

The younger Isidore of Miletus only finally rewarded Armen for all the furtive help that he had received to make him as much a renowned and rich architect as his uncle when he died years after the rebuilding of Hagia Sophia. He then posthumously granted his eunuch slave his freedom in his will. However, even now, his motives had no regard for his longstanding Armenian servant’s wellbeing.

The younger Isidore of Miletus was only following contemporary custom by granting a loyal slave of longstanding his freedom in his will. To do otherwise would besmirch his posthumous reputation, which he cared more about than Armen.

Before his death, the younger Isidore of Miletus was credited as being the architect of many more fine and sturdy Byzantine buildings besides the reconstruction of the Hagia Sophia. However, the author of this story has no doubt that the real praise should go to the previously historically obscure Armenian eunuch, Armen of Ani, whose name is not yet likely to crop up in any books chronicling the age.

About three hundred years after the era of Armen of Ani, the dome of Hagia Sophia partially collapsed again as the result of another earthquake on the 8th of January 869 CE. More comprehensive destruction of the structure also occurred for the same reason on the 25th of October 989 and the 19th of May 1346.

The weaknesses that caused these collapses, though, had nothing to do with the dome. The supporting arches had instead failed, proving the wisdom of Armen’s original assertion in 558 CE that they needed strengthening.

The author of this story has no doubt that, if Armen’s advice had been followed at the time, further rebuilding of his dome, which was always significantly restored to his design, would never have been needed over subsequent centuries, regardless of the strength of the local earthquakes.

PART Ε

POSTSCRIPT

(Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, Turkey, earlier this year)

As the author of this Christmas story earlier this year again strolled casually around the Hagia Sophia, he thought once more about the person whom he firmly believed was mainly responsible for the continued existence of the magnificent building. Surely, he felt, that the structure still standing proudly intact today, as a monument to all those involved over the centuries in its construction, maintenance and repair, was really a testament to the greatness of Armen of Ani as an architect.

The author also wondered what had happened to Armen of Ani after he had received his freedom on the death of the younger Isidore of Miletus, for reference to the Armenian eunuch, as far as he could currently tell, subsequently disappeared from contemporary chronicles. However, at this time of seasonal goodwill when he hoped that some wishes might be granted, he quietly hoped that the hero of this year’s Christmas tale had gone on to achieve something else other than architectural greatness.

The author of this Christmas story hoped that Armen of Ani had succeeded in returning to his Armenian homeland to be reunited with his family, for surely he was due such a reward for his service to posterity.

Τελος

or

THE END

of

‘ANOTHER BYZANTINE CHRISTMAS’

by Pueros,

who again extends to all officials and users of the archive his best wishes for a merry Christmas and happy New Year