Emperor Justinian’s Crackdown On Astrologers

From the birth of the Roman Empire in Rome, to the fall of the empire in Constantinople, the emperors were known to have periodic clashes with astrologers. Justinian, emperor of Constantinople from 527 to 565, was no exception, as he apparently feared that the horoscopes and predictions created by astrologers could be a threat to his authority, as well as that of Constantinople’s church.

Procopius (c. 490-565), a lawyer and historian who lived at the same time as Justinian, described how astrologers were reportedly treated during the emperor’s reign. He wrote:

 “They were bitterly hostile to astrologers. Accordingly the official appointed to deal with burglaries made a point of ill-treating them simply because they were astrologers, flogging the backs of them and setting them on camels to be shown to jeering crowds all over the city, though they were old men and respectable in every way” (Procopius, Secret History, chapter 11).

As the end of the quote shows, Procopius disapproved of Justinian’s treatment of astrologers, and such critical comments are the common theme of his controversial work, the often-libelous Secret History. Yet, despite Procopius’ negative and antagonistic flourishes in the Secret History, it was in his commentary on legal issues that he most often spoke the truth. Even if the astrologers were punished with whips and humiliation as Procopius claimed, the astrologers were still treated better than other groups that Justinian chose to oppress. Non-Christians, heretics, and certain classes of criminals faced far worse punishments.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Image from page 293 of "The astrologer of the nineteenth century" (1825), [Public Domain] via flickr.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Secret History by Procopius, translated by G. A. Williamson and Peter Sarris. New York: Penguin Classics, 1966, 2007.

The Rumored Theft Of Zeno’s Treasure

During the reign of Emperor Justinian (r. 527-565), a wealthy man named Zeno was appointed to be the emperor’s prefect of Egypt. After receiving this order, Zeno started gathering his treasures of gold and jewels, for he wanted to live in luxury during his term of office. Vast quantities of gold, silver, emeralds and pearls that he owned were transported to the empire’s capital city of Constantinople, where the treasure was stockpiled on the ship that would soon take Zeno to Egypt. The voyage, however, never took place—before Zeno could leave for Egypt, his ship caught fire and the wreckage sank below the waves. With the ship went his treasure. To Zeno’s horror, not a single salvageable coin or jewel could be found floating above the water or down in the debris field on the seabed. Yet, Zeno’s misfortunes did not end there. Not long after the fire, Zeno mysteriously and suspiciously died. After his death, a will was discovered in which Zeno bequeathed all of his property to the imperial couple, Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora.

Zeno’s death became a hot topic for gossip. With the suspicious fire on the ship, the unexplained absence of treasure in the wreckage, and his subsequent mysterious death not long after the incident, many people in Constantinople were convinced that there was foul play afoot in Zeno’s sudden downfall. One of the people who expressed this concern was Procopius (c. 490-565), the greatest contemporary historian of Justinian’s reign. In his Secret History, Procopius took the side of the gossipers, suggesting that Emperor Justinian sent henchmen to steal Zeno’s treasure and then burned the ship to cover the crime. The historian was less assertive, but still insinuative, in implicating Justinian in Zeno’s later suspicious death. Procopius wrote, “Not long after, as it happened, Zeno died very suddenly, and the two of them [the imperial couple] took over his estate as his lawful heirs, for they produced a will of sorts, which it was openly rumored was not of his making” (Secret History, chapter 12). It must be noted that Procopius was extremely critical, and often libelous, of Justinian in his Secret History, and the historian’s allegations should be taken with a grain of salt. Procopius had no definitive proof or evidence that Justinian was involved in Zeno’s death; the historian likely believed, however, that such a crime could fit with the emperor’s conniving and opportunistic character.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Painting of the Archimedes Mirror being used to burn a ship, by Giulio Parigi  (1571–1635), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Secret History by Procopius, translated by G. A. Williamson and Peter Sarris. New York: Penguin Classics, 1966, 2007.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Justinian-I 
• https://www.ancient.eu/Justinian_I/

The Odd Tale Of The Ascetic, Jacobus, And His Confrontation With A Persian Army

According to the historian Procopius (c. 490-565), an interesting figure named Jacobus flourished in the late 5th and early 6th centuries. This Jacobus, it was said, hailed from Syria, but chose to end his days in a place called Endielon, located not far from the important Byzantine (Eastern Roman) fortress of Amida (near Diyarbakir, Turkey). Jacobus was a devoutly religious man with ascetic tendencies, and after living in the community at Endielon for some time, he ultimately decided to live out the remainder of his life in a religious cell. Supportive of his decision, Jacobus’ neighbors reportedly built for their resident hermit a roofed shelter in which he could live. The walls of the structure apparently resembled fencing, built with gaps in the barrier so that Jacobus could receive food and conversation from visitors. With the blueprint set, Jacobus entered his loosely built enclosure and let his friends set up the final pieces of the cage.

Jacobus likely thought his life from then on out would be nothing but peace, quiet and tranquility. World events, however, thwarted Jacobus’ plans and instead brought chaos to his isolated enclosure. By 502, the Byzantine (Eastern Roman) Empire and the Sāsānian Empire of Persia were at war, and the area in which Jacobus lived was a hotspot of the conflict. Persian forces invaded the region and laid siege to the fortress of Amida between 502 and 503. As Jacobus’ cage could reportedly be reached after only a day’s journey from Amida, Persian scouts or scavengers inevitably found the hermit.

When the Persians discovered the peculiar cage, they approached it cautiously, keeping their bows and arrows at the ready. As the story goes, when the warriors saw that there was a person inside the structure, their first impulse was to loose their arrows and kill whoever was residing in the odd shelter. Yet, upon closer inspection, something suppressed their initial violent impulse. Perhaps, it was Jacobus’ friendly demeanor or his emaciated physique (he had reportedly been living off only seeds). Whatever the case, the Persians apparently could not bring themselves to kill the hermit, and therefore they left him in peace. As the Romans had been driven from the region, the Persians must have also taken up the task of making supply drops for the caged man.

News of the hermit’s existence spread quickly through the ranks of the Persians at Amida. As the story goes, even the Persian king of kings, Kavadh I (r. 488-496, 498-531), the Sāsānian ruler at that time, was interested in seeing the recluse. Kavadh I allegedly traveled to Jacobus’ cage and talked with the man, opening up the conversation by apologizing to the hermit for the incident where Persian troops almost shot arrows at the cage. As recompense, the Persian king supposedly offered to grant a single wish that the hermit might request. Accepting this deal, Jacobus asked for sanctuary and safety to be given to any refugee from the region who camped by his cage at Endielon. According to the historian Procopius, King Kavadh I granted the request “and gave him a written pledge of his personal safety. And great numbers of men, as might be expected, came flocking to him from all sides and found safety there; for the deed became widely known” (The Wars, 1.7).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Recluse Reading, painted by Carl Spitzweg (1808–1885), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Wars (Book I) by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing (Harvard University Press, originally published 1914).
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Kavadh-I 
• http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/kawad-i-reign  

The Duels Of Trainer And Coach, Andreas, Before The Battle Of Dara

In the year 530, Emperor Justinian’s newly appointed General of the East, Belisarius, led a Byzantine (Eastern Roman) army to a position between the cities of Nisibis and Dara to block the path of an invading Sāsānian Persian force. According to the historian Procopius, who happened to have been General Belisarius’ accompanying legal advisor, the Romans dug a series of trenches near Dara and deployed at the site a force of approximately 25,000 warriors in a fairly typical tripartite formation, with a left, center and right. After the Romans had constructed their defensive features and took up their positions on the battlefield, the Persian army arrived on the scene. Procopius, an eye-witness to the battle, claimed that the Persians numbered around 40,000 upon their arrival on the battlefield, and they initially set up in what seemed to be a single block-like phalanx formation.

On the first day of conflict, the Persians probed the left wing of the Roman formation with a noncommittal cavalry charge. In the ensuing skirmish, the Romans drove off the charging horsemen, reportedly killing seven of the Persians before the cavalry rejoined their main force. At this point in the day, it was late in the afternoon, but the Persians were not done taunting and testing the Roman lines. Next, a young Persian horseman reportedly rode up to the Romans, demanding to duel anyone who was brave enough to come forward. According to Procopius, the Persian warrior’s challenge was accepted by a man named Andreas, a physical trainer and a wrestling instructor who had accompanied one of the Roman generals into battle, not as a warrior, but as an attendant. Reportedly wielding only a spear and a knife, Andreas marched forward to meet the Persian horseman in combat.

When Andreas stepped forward, the Persian horseman charged at him, perhaps thinking that the athletic instructor would be an easy foe. Yet, although Andreas was not a professional warrior in the army, he was nonetheless a skilled fighter. With the horseman bearing down on him, Andreas stood his ground and readied his spear. As the story goes, Andreas used his polearm to knock the charging Persian off of his horse, leaving the horseman dazed on the ground. Now that the Persian warrior was defenseless, Andreas tossed aside his spear, took out his knife, and “slew him like a sacrificial animal as he lay on his back” (Procopius, The Wars, 1.13). As Andreas finished off his opponent, cheers erupted from the Roman army, as well as from onlookers on the walls of nearby Dara.

The day’s events, however, were not over. According to Procopius, a second Persian horseman soon rode up to the roman lines, demanding another duel. The new arrival was much older than the first Persian duelist, and he was reportedly equipped with a whip and a spear. The physical trainer and wrestler, Andreas, as he was already on a roll, accepted this second challenge. After picking up his spear and hopping onto a horse (perhaps the fallen Persian’s steed), Andreas charged at the new duelist. Noticing Andreas’ advance, the Persian lowered his own spear and set off on his horse toward the Roman champion. What resulted was an ancient joust of sorts, with the two horsemen bearing down on each other with their lances leveled. Yet, when the two connected, neither fighter made a direct hit. Instead, the Roman and the Persian unhorsed each other and both fell to the ground, likely dropping their weapons in the process. Down on the ground and unarmed, the wrestling instructor Andreas was in his element. Using all of his grappling prowess, Andreas quickly overpowered the Persian and, either with or without a weapon, slew his opponent.

By the time Andreas’ second duel had finished, the sun was already setting and both armies decided to return to their camps. In the morning, 10,000 Persian reinforcements would join the preexisting 40,000-man-strong army. Despite this, the smaller Roman army, with its series of trenches, would hold its ground and win the day.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Medieval depiction of Byzantine emperor Basil I (left) with his son Leo VI from a manuscript of John Skylitzes's history, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of the Wars (Book I) by Procopius, translated by H. B. Dewing (Harvard University Press, originally published 1914).

The Odd Signature Stencil Stamp Of Emperor Justin I

Emperor Justin I of Constantinople had quite a rags-to-riches story. He was born into a peasant family around the year 450, but eventually left the life of a commoner behind to join the military. Upon enrollment, Justin was said to have had with him nothing but some bread and the clothes on his back. His fortunes would skyrocket, however, once he started down the path of the warrior; Justin became a member of the palace guard for Emperor Anastasius (r. 491-518) and ultimately became the commander of that force. When Anastasius died without a clear heir in 518, the unlikely Justin became a top contender for the throne. How exactly he cinched his claim to the throne is debated—some say he touted his respected status in the military, while others suggest he used of well-placed bribes—yet, whatever the case, Justin did indeed win the backing of the military and government officials, allowing him to become the next emperor of Constantinople.

Although Emperor Justin I (r. 518-527) had ample military experience, matters of war and national defense were not the only duties of an emperor. He was also expected to oversee the empire’s internal laws and external diplomacy. In these other aspects of government, the new emperor was less well-equipped. Whereas the elite families of Constantinople were educated in such matters and trained in proper calligraphy for legal and diplomatic documents, Emperor Justin did not have that upbringing. Instead, when Justin ascended to the throne, he was said to have been a poor writer, and the words he could write were not aesthetically pleasing. This was a problem, as the emperor was expected to write out a sign of approval on official government decrees and documents.

So as to not embarrass the emperor or the empire, Justin’s officials reportedly developed a way for their uneducated emperor to easily write a perfect signature. According to the historian Procopius (c. 490-565), a high official named Proculus took a small piece of wood and carved in it a regal-looking stencil of the word, “LEGI,” which meant “I HAVE READ.” With this stencil, Emperor Justin I needed only move his pen along the grooves of the wood to create a perfect, professional-looking stamp for state documents. Whether or not he always needed to use the stencil, or if he learned to sign without it is unknown, but it was reportedly brought back into frequent use when Emperor Justin I became too old and ill to function. Procopius unflatteringly described how the emperor’s nephew, Justinian (r. 527-565), and other government officials would help Justin use the stencil when he was too old to write on his own:

“Then they used to dip a pen in the special ink reserved for emperors and place it in the hands of Emperor Justin. Next they took the strip of wood I have described and laid it on the document, grasped the Emperor’s hand and, while he held the pen, guided it along the pattern of the four letters, taking it round all the bends cut in the wooden stencil. Then they went, carrying the Emperor’s writing, such as it was” (Procopius, The Secret History, chapter 6, section 15-16).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Blanche of Castile and King Louis IX of France, dated to 1220-1230, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Secret History by Procopius, translated by G. A. Williamson and Peter Sarris. New York: Penguin Classics, 1966, 2007.
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Procopius/Anecdota/6*.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Justin-I  

The Scandalous Tale Of The Rogue Priest, Themel

A priest named Themel was said to have preached in Herakleos, a village which belonged to the emperors of Constantinople. His home town was in a precarious location, set within striking distance from the hostile lands of Tarsus and Aleppo. Themel lived in the 10th century, and his community was thrown into chaos by the constant warfare between Emperor Constantine VII (sole rule 945-959) and Emir Sayf al-Dawla of Aleppo (r. 945-967). Themel reportedly got a personal taste of the era’s prevalent bloodshed, and his experience would take him down a truly bizarre path.

According to the historian John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), a band of scavengers and foragers from Aleppo or Tarsus arrived at Herakleos to commandeer food to feed their army during the ongoing border struggle between the Empire of Constantinople and its Muslim neighbors. At the time, the people of Herakleos were reportedly in the middle of Holy Mass, and the priest Themel was leading them in the celebration of the Eucharist. Messengers interrupted Themel’s liturgy, informing the congregation of the arrival of the hostile foragers. Upon hearing of this news, Themel apparently decided to not only lead his flock in prayer, but to also lead them in battle—as the story goes, Themel ended his church service prematurely, then stormed off to face the looters. For a weapon, the priest reportedly picked up a semantron, a large wooden or metal beam used as a percussion instrument in the church. As for armor, he simply wore his religious vestments. Thus equipped, the warrior-priest joined the fray and allegedly bludgeoned a few of the scavengers to death with his trusty semantron, helping the town of Herakleos to drive off the enemy.

One might expect that Themel would have been treated as a hero after the battle—after all, it was the Middle Ages, and militant religious figures were, at the time, condoned and often praised. Nevertheless, praise was not in Themel’s future. If he were a character in a literary work,  you could say that his path underwent a sudden and bizarre plot twist. Instead of being applauded and praised, the priest would be vilified by his countrymen.

The bishop over Themel’s diocese reportedly took issue with the warrior-priest’s actions. Be it the blood-spattered vestments, the gore-stained semantron, or the neglected Eucharist, the bishop held a grudge against Themel that never healed. Due to their unreconciled differences, the bishop reportedly sabotaged Themel’s pastoral career and blocked the priest from continuing his ministry. Themel reacted poorly to the bishop’s interference, and the situation made him begin to reevaluate his life.

Themel, suppressed and criticized by the bishop, eventually chose to drastically change the direction of his life. He reportedly renounced the priesthood and fled to Tarsus or Aleppo, where he was said to have joined armies opposed to the emperors of Constantinople. According to Byzantine scholars, the former priest Themel apparently abandoned Christianity, itself, after his flight. On Themel’s career after his defection, John Skylitzes wrote, “So he went over to the Hagarenes and renounced Christianity. He joined forces with them, and not only ravaged Cappadocia and the adjacent themes but penetrated as far as what is called Asia Minor” (Synopsis of Byzantine History, chapter 11, section 8).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Conquest of Jerusalem painted by Émile Signol (1804–1892), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• A Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), translated by John Wortley (Cambridge University Press, 2010).
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hamdanid-dynasty 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Constantine-VII-Porphyrogenitus
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/arts/culture-magazines/ode-reconquest-al-hadath 
• https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803100443950 
• https://referenceworks.brillonline.com/entries/encyclopaedia-of-islam-2/sayf-al-dawla-COM_1010 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Sayf-al-Dawlah  
   

Patriarch Theophylact And The Luxurious Lives Of His Horses

Theophylact was a son of Romanos I, the emperor of Constantinople between 919 and 944. Emperor Romanos, a skilled political maneuverer, sent young Theophylact to apprentice under the Patriarchs of Constantinople in 924, when the boy was only seven years old. The emperor intended for his son to take up the highest church office in Constantinople, but, as the boy was far too young to hold the office, he had to wait as an assistant to three successive patriarchs from 924-931. When Theophylact reached fourteen years of age in 931, Emperor Romanos I arranged for the then Patriarch Tryphon to resign from his clerical office. Theophylact, however, was still too young to take the job, so Romanos schemed to keep the patriarchal throne vacant for two years. Finally, in 933, the emperor succeeded in having his son named patriarch of the church of Constantinople.

Despite being apprenticed under different patriarchs for more than half of his life, Theophylact was said to have remained a spoiled nobleman at heart. He was only sixteen when he became patriarch and, despite his new high and holy office, he still wanted to engage in typical teenage pastimes. It was an understandable wish, yet his behavior distressed and disturbed the clergymen who looked to him for leadership. Like worrisome parents, the clergy constantly criticized the teen’s behavior—too much dancing, too much singing, too much partying, and too little respect for tradition. As Theophylact grew out of his teenage years, his partying gave way to a passion for luxury, and collecting horses became his greatest obsession.

According to the historian, John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), Patriarch Theophylact eventually owned more than two thousand horses. On the great care that the clergyman showed these animals, Skylitzes wrote, “He was not satisfied with feeding them hay and oats, but would serve them pine-seeds, almonds and pistachios or even dates and figs and choicest raisins, mixed with the most fragrant wine. To this he would add saffron, cinnamon, balsam and other spices and serve it to each of his horses as food” (Synopsis historian, chapter 11, section 10).

Theophylact’s great affection for his horses caused a minor scandal when a prized mare in his herd was pregnant. The patriarch was said to have been in the middle of a church service when a messenger arrived to tell him that the horse had foaled. Theophylact was reportedly so eager to go see the newborn animal that he speed-read through the liturgy as if he were an auctioneer, and eventually ran off to see the foal after he had directed the congregation to begin singing lengthy hymns.  Once he greeted the new member of the horse herd, Theophylact rushed back to the church and was able to join his flock in singing the final hymn.

Besides simply caring for his horses, Theophylact also enjoyed galloping with them around the vicinity of Constantinople. In 954, one such ride took a deadly turn. While gallivanting by the seawall on one of his steeds, Patriarch Theophylact was thrown from his horse and he crashed violently to the ground, landing awkwardly or hitting an object in the dirt. He reportedly never recovered from the fall, but instead sickened and deteriorated, eventually dying in 956.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Two Horses and a chicken in a Stable by Wouterus Verschuur (1812–1874), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• A Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), translated by John Wortley (Cambridge University Press, 2010).

The Jewish Khaganate Of The Khazars

One of the most intriguing peoples of the Middle Ages were the Khazars, a Turkic tribe of obscure origin who long dominated the regions above the Black and Caspian Seas. The Khazar Khaganate was a major power that jostled with the Empire of Constantinople and the Arab Empire for influence on the eastern end of the Mediterranean. In the web of international politics, the Khazars often sided with Constantinople against threats such as the Rus, the Bulgars and the encroachment of Muslim forces into the Anatolian and Caucasus region. The Khazar friendship with Constantinople was most evident in the 8th century, when the Khazars provided brides to Emperor Justinian II (r. 685-695, 705-711) and Constantine V (r. 741-775)—Constantine’s son was called Leo the Khazar (r. 775-780). Meanwhile, the Khazars had spent much of the 8th century in a state of hostility against the Umayyad and then the Abbasid Caliphates, raiding as far as Mosul in 730 but finally making peace with the Abbasids in 798. As interesting as Khazar foreign policy may be, the true uniqueness of the Khazars shows most in their religion, specifically the sudden adoption of Judaism among the Khazar elites by the end of the 8th century.

Under vague circumstances, the khagan (leader) of the Khazar Khaganate, as well as his administrative lieutenant and nearly every chieftain under the khagan’s influence, decided to convert of Judaism between 740 and 800. In the early 9th century, the Khazars took a further step to release a coin that praised Moses. Despite their adoption of Judaism, the Khazar leadership maintained some of their traditional customs, such as the existence of the khagan’s harem, which, according to the Abbasid diplomat Ibn Fadlān, numbered a total of twenty-five wives in the 10th century. As with their willingness to tolerate the harem, the Khazar leaders were also fairly lenient to the many subjects in their domain who did not adopt Judaism. Nevertheless, the Khazar leaders were known to take vengeance against any community that dared harm a synagogue in the Khazar Khaganate.

The downfall of the Khazar Khaganate occurred simultaneously with the rise of the Kievan Rus. The Rus appeared as an emerging power in the 9th century. They showed their boldness and strength by making direct assaults against Constantinople in 860, 907 and 941. Sviatoslav I, who became the Grand Prince or king of the Kievan Rus in the early 940s, would be the man to eventually topple the Khazar Khaganate. From 965-969, Sviatoslav relentlessly campaigned against the Khazars, invading deep into the khaganate, where he sacked the Khazar capital and demolished Khazar political influence in the region. Besides the Rus, the Ghuzz Turks and the Volga Bulgars also profited from the fall of the Khazar Khaganate.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Volga River trade negotiations between Rus and Khazars, painted by S. V. Ivanov (1864–1910), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Risala by Ibn Fadlān, translated by Paul Lunde and Catoline Stone. New York, Penguin Classics, 2012. 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Khazar 
• https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/khazars 
• https://www.historytoday.com/archive/khazaria-forgotten-jewish-empire 
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Kievan-Rus 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Svyatoslav-I  

The Dramatic Downfall Of Patriarch Tryphon of Constantinople

Emperor Romanos I was a brilliant political maneuverer who arose out of obscurity to become, for a time, one of the strongest men in the Mediterranean world. Although he held the title of emperor for decades, Romanos had no genuine claim to the throne—his remarkable rise to power came through the marriage of his daughter, Helen, to the child-emperor Constantine VII on May 4, 919. The very next year, Romanos climbed his way to the top of the child-emperor’s regency council by forcing Constantine’s mother into a convent and similarly disposing of other nobles who posed a threat to his ascendance. Romanos at first took the title of ‘caesar,’ but he quickly became a co-emperor, and by 921 he had gained enough power to supersede Constantine VII as First Emperor in the political hierarchy.

Romanos, however, did not ascend alone up the political ladder; he also brought his children along for the ride. Romanos’ son, Christopher, was similarly named a co-emperor in 921 and in 924, Romanos similarly crowned two other sons, named Stephen and Constantine. Romanos further increased his power in 927 by having Christopher named Second Emperor, pushing the original ruler, Constantine VII, down one more rung on the ladder of political hierarchy.

Another of Romanos’ sons, by the name of Theophylact, drew the metaphorical short straw when it came to high office appointment. While his brothers were named caesars and co-emperors, Theophylact was sent to join the church. Yet, for Romanos, only the position of Patriarch of Constantinople would do for his son. Nevertheless, there was a problem—when Theophylact was sent to join the church in 924, he was only seven years old. Although Romanos could not immediately place his young son at the head of the church in Constantinople, he was able to rush the boy through the hierarchy of the clergy. Theophylact was appointed as a cleric and put in the position of synkellos, a lofty title that made the young boy an assistant to the patriarch of Constantinople. It was an important appointment, as the synkellos was often considered the heir to the patriarchal throne. The newly appointed clergyman, however, was still a child, so he remained in the role of synkellos during the reigns of Patriarch Nicholas (d. 925), Patriarch Stephen (d.927) and Patriarch Tryphon. Emperor Romanos apparently had agreements with these patriarchs that they would step down when Theophylact finally came of age. Although Patriarch Tryphon had supposedly agreed to this plan, he was said to have become hesitant to relinquish power as the young synkellos began to reach his mid-teens.

The power struggle between Patriarch Tryphon and Emperor Romanos came to a head around 931, when Theophylact was about 14 years old. Medieval historians who wrote about the incident recorded differing accounts of the episode. Leo the Grammarian, Symeon the Logothete and the Theophanes Continuatus present the occasion dryly or in passing. The so-called Pseudo-Symeon (whose identity remains anonymous) and the historian John Skylitzes, however, recorded a much more dramatic tale. Whatever the case, bland or embellished, all of the scholars came to the same conclusion—Patriarch Tryphon ultimately resigned from his post in 931.

The story presented by the Pseudo-Symeon and John Skylitzes about the downfall of Patriarch Tryphon is one of subterfuge and trickery. As the patriarch had done nothing to merit his resignation from the leadership of the church of Constantinople, Tryphon reportedly tried to delay or break his deal to step down. As the story goes, Romanos became impatient with the stubborn patriarch and he and his allies soon began to spread rumors about Tryphon to make the man’s position at the head of the church untenable. One such accusation that was reportedly spread insinuated that Tryphon was illiterate and did not know how to write. In 931, so the story goes, the patriarch convened a synod to disprove these rumors. Before the eyes of his peers, the patriarch was said to have written down his name and title on a document and handed it over to an acquaintance who would bring the proof of Tryphon’s literacy to the emperor. The messenger, unfortunately for the patriarch, was alleged to have been an agent of Emperor Romanos. Therefore, as soon as he had the chance, the mischievous messenger supposedly added a forged letter of resignation to Patriarch Tryphon’s signed document. According to John Skylitzes, before the clergymen of Constantinople left the meeting, the tampered document was brought back in and, “This ‘resignation’ was presented to the Synod and Tryphon was put out of the church, bitterly decrying the deceit which had been practiced on him” (Synopsis historian, chapter 10, section 26).

Whatever the truth behind Tryphon’s resignation, he indeed stepped down in 931. Although Romanos’ son was the successor to Tryphon’s position, young Theophylact was still not old enough to take up the role as Patriarch of Constantinople until 933, when he reached the age of sixteen. Theophylact would continue to oversee the church of Constantinople until his death in 956.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Second Ecumenical painted by Vasily Surikov, c. 1876, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• A Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes (c. 1040-1101), translated by John Wortley (Cambridge University Press, 2010).