This afternoon I was trying to find out what early engravings might exist of Constantinople. The search was mainly vain; but I did learn that a certain Onofrio Panavinio in his Ludi et Circences (1600) had printed an engraving of the Hippodrome.
This may be found here at Flickr, and I have uploaded the original here since it took quite a long time to locate it. You should be able to click through to the splendid full-size image.
Onufrio Panavinio, engraving of the Hippdrome at Constantinople. Published 1600.
I wondered if perhaps the book itself might exist at Google Books. A reprint of 1642 has no plates in it; but the original does exist there, and may be found here. The plate is between pages 60 and 61. On page 61 Panavinio adds, after discussing the Circus here in Constantinople:
Eius Circi descriptionem, ex antiqua Constantinopolis topographica, quae paulo antequam Urbs in Turcorum potestatem venisset facta fuit, excerpta, sic adieci, parum his quae a Petro Gilio dicuntur quadrantem. Fieri n. potest ut centum annorum intervallo, Circi sive Hippodromi Constantinopolitani aspectus mutatus sit, Turcis eum indies demolientibus, & vastantibus, ac ad suos usus praeclarissima marmora, & columnas vertentibus.
I have added opposite a drawing of this circus, picked out from the topography of old Constantinople, which was made a little before the city came into the power of the Turks, a quarter of these things which are discussed by Petrus Gyllius. It has come about that, as a hundred years has intervened, the appearance of the Circus or Hippodrome of Constantinople has been changed, the Turks from day to day demolishing and devastating it, and putting its most excellent marbles and columns to their own uses.
The absence of any mosques does indeed suggest a 15th century drawing.
The Google Books page for the right-hand side looks as follows:
I thought that I would keep a copy locally, so I downloaded the PDF. Imagine my shock to find that I didn’t get what was visible on-screen. Instead I got this:
(I have included the full screen in both images because our software tools change so fast at the moment that these may be of interest in five or ten years time!)
I don’t think we need ask which we prefer. The colour image is far better to work with.
In these early books, moreover, the paper is thin and the text often comes through. It’s manageable enough in colour images; but in the monochrome ones, this makes the pages near unreadable.
Did Google always do this? Why don’t they make the images shown onscreen accessible for download? A bit worrying this, in a way: for the image I have above was something I couldn’t have got from the book.
One postscript to all this. I found a wonderful site this afternoon, on the Sphendone, the supporting platform at the west end of the Hippodrome. The site slopes down towards the sea, and the Roman architects built a platform of brick and mortar — known as the Sphendone — to support it. It’s still there. The website contains numerous photographs and drawings, as well as an aerial photograph showing the extent of the Hippdrome, superimposed on today’s buildings. Marvellous, and very recommended. The author of the page is an artist named Trici Venola.
One of the sights of Constantinople before the Ottoman conquest was the colossal equestrian statue of Justinian, standing in the Forum Augusteum, atop a 100 foot-tall pillar outside the senate house. The statue faced east and was widely thought to have magical powers to repel invaders from that direction.
At Robert Bedrosian’s site I have found a treasure-trove of articles about Byzantium. One of these, on ancient statues in medieval Constantinople,[1] contains a fascinating portrait of the statue:
One of the oldest was the equestrian statue which Justinian set up of himself ; it is described by Codinos. The horse was on the top of a column, and the emperor held in his left hand the ball and cross, signifying his universal dominion over the earth by the power of the faith of the cross.[2]
“The right hand,” says Codinos, “he has stretched out towards the east, signifying that the Persians should halt and not come over to the land of the Greeks, crying by means of the repelling gesture of his uplifted hand,’Stay, ye Persians, and do not advance, for it will not be to your good ‘.”
The idea is as old as the time of Justinian himself, for it is found in the contemporary historian Procopios, who says that the statue, “was riding, as I think, against the Persians.” The gesture of his right hand was to forbid the advance of the eastern barbarians.[30]
The latest notice of this statue we owe to Bertrandon de la Broquiere who saw it in 1432 ; by his time the Persians had been superseded by the Saracen holders of Jerusalem, and he says that the figure has “le
bras droit tendu et la main ouverte devers la Turquie et le chemin de Jherusalem par terre, en segne que tout celluy pays jusques en Jherusalem luy souloit estre obeyssant.”[31]
It was destroyed about 1525, shortly before the visit to the city of Gyllius, who saw fragments of it of gigantic size “carried into the melting Houses where they cast their Ordnance.”[32]
[29] Codinos, 28.
[30] Procopios, De Aedificiis, 182, especially lines 14 and 20. The idea spread to Europe and is found in John of Hildesheim, edition quoted, p. 274, and also in Arabic authors: Qazwini in the thirteenth century says that there were two opinions, and some said that the hand held a talisman to keep off enemies, and others that on the ball was written, “I own the world as long as this ball is in my hand” (J. Marquart, Osteurop. und ostasiatische Streifzuge (1903), p. 221). Harun ibn Yahya in the ninth century thought that the right hand was beckoning people to come to Constantinople (ibid. p. 220). An old drawing of this statue connected with the name of Cyriac of Ancona was found by Dothier in the library of the Seraglio. It has often been reproduced, and may be seen in Rev. des etudes grecques, vol. ix. p. 84.
[31] Bertrandon de la Broquiere, Le Voyage d’Outremer, publie par Ch. Scheffer (1892), P. 159.
[32] Gyllius, The Antiquities of Constantinople (translated) (1729), p. 129.
I did try to locate that drawing. But this is harder than it might be. Thanks to AWOL, I learn that REG is online here. But this does not go back so far as vol. 9. Archive.org list the volumes here, and vol. 9 (1896) is here. Unfortunately page 84 is missing! The Gallica collection of microfilms is here; but the series is incomplete and does not include the relevant parts of vol. 9.
I did find a drawing at Wikimedia Commons, however, which looks like a modern redrawing. Note the inscription “THEODOSI”, suggesting – inevitably – reuse of an older statue by Justinian:
The volume of Gyllius – Pierre Gilles – is accessible online, however, and his description is worth hearing:
Chap. XVII. Of the forum called the Augustaeum, of the pillar of Theodosius, and Justinian, and the Senate-house.
Procopius writes that the forum which was formerly called the Augustaeum was surrounded with pillars and was situated before the imperial palace. Not only the forum is at present quite defaced, but the very name of it is lost, and the whole ground where it stood is built upon. The palace is entirely in ruins, yet I collect from the pedestal of a pillar of Justinian lately standing, but now removed by the Turks, which Procopius says was built by Justinian in the Augustaeum, and Zonaras in the court before the Church of Sophia, that the Augustaeum stood where there is now a fountain, at the west end of the Church of St. Sophia. Suidas says, that Justinian, after he had built the Church of St. Sophia, cleansed the court, and paved it with marble, and that it was formerly called the Forum Augustaeum; and adds, that he erected his own statue there. Procopius writes, “That there was a certain forum facing the Senate House, which was called by the citizens the Augustaeum; where are seven stones, so cemented together in a quadranglular manner, and are so contracted one within another, the upper within the lower stone, that a man may conveniently sit down upon every projecture of them.”
I was more induced to give this account from Procopius of the pedestal because I do not find it in his printed works. Upon the top of it, says he, there’s erected a large pillar, composed of many stones covered with brass, which did at once both strength and adorn them. The plates of brass did not reflect so strong a lustre as pure gold, yet was it, in value, little inferior to silver.
On the top of the pillar was set a large horse in brass, facing the east, which indeed afforded a noble prospect. He seemed to be in a marching posture, and struggling for speed. His near foot before was curvated, as though he would paw the ground; his off foot was fixed to the pedestal, and his hind feet were so contracted, as though he was prepared to be gone. Upon the horse was placed the statue of the emperor: it was made of brass, large like a colossus, dessed in a warlike habit like Achilles, with sandals on his feet, and armed with a coat of mail, and a shining helmet. He looked eastward, and seemed to be marching against the Persians. In his left hand he bore a globe, devised to signify his universal power over the whole world. On the top of it was fixed a cross, to which he attributed all his successes in war, and his accession to the imperial dignity. His right hand was stretched to the east, and by pointing his fingers, he seemed to forbid the barbarous nations to approach nearer, but to stand off at their peril.
Tzetzes, in his “Various History”, describes what kind of helmet he had upon his head. “The Persians,” says he, “generally wore a turban upon the head. When the Romans obtained any victory over them, they plundered them of their turbans, which they placed upon their own heads. These are,” says he, “of the same shape with that with which the statue of Justinian, erected upon a large pillar, is crowned.” Cedrenus relates that Justinian held the globe in his silver hand.
Zonaras writes that Justinian, in the seventeenth year of his reign, set up this pillar, in the same place where formerly had stood another pillar of Theodosius the Great, bearing his statue in Silver, made at the expense of his son Arcadius, which weighed 7,400 pounds. When Justinian had demolished the statue and the pillar, he stripped it of a vast quantity of lead, of which he made pipes for aqueducts, which brought the water into the city. This ill-treatment of Theodosius by Justinian was revenged upon him by the barbarians; for they used his pillar in the same manner, and stripped it of the statue, the horse, and the brass with which it was covered, so that it was only a bare column for some years.
About thirty years ago the whole shaft was taken down to the pedestal, and that, about a year since, was demolished down to the base, from whence I observed a spring to spout up with pipes, into a large cistern. At present there stands in the same place a water-house, and the pipes are enlarged.
I lately saw the equestrian statue of Justinian, erected upon the pillar which stood here, and which had been preserved a long time in the imperial precinct, carried into the melting houses where they cast their ordinance. Among the fragments were the leg of Justinian, which exceeded my height, and his nose, which was above 9 inches long. I dared not measure the horse’s legs, as they lay upon the ground, but privately measured one of the hoofs and found it to be 9 inches in height.
An article by J. Raby references Ottoman sources, to show that the statue was taken down by 1456.[2] This also gives a copy of the drawing, and indicates its present location: Ms. Budapest, University library 35, fol.144v, which is a miscellaneous manuscript.
[1]R. M. Dawkins, “Ancient Statues in Mediaeval Constantinople”, Folklore 35 (1924), pp. 209-248. Download here: Ancient Statues in Mediaeval Constantinople. File size: 3.6 MB.↩
An interesting story which hasn’t really reached critical mass was mentioned to me by a correspondent this morning. Via Wired I read:
Elsevier clamps down on academics posting their own papers online
… Guy Leonard, a research fellow at the University of Exeter, posted a screengrab of the message, which said: “Academia.edu is committed to enabling the transition to a world where there is open access to academic literature. Elsevier takes a different view and is currently upping the ante in its opposition of academics sharing their own papers online.”
Since then, Elsevier has also targeted academics at the University of Calgary who had posted their research papers on publicly accessible university web pages. “In going after the University of Calgary, Elsevier have declared their position as unrepentant enemies of science,” said an outraged palaeontologist Mike Taylor, from Bristol University on his blog.
Taylor also urged people to sign the Cost of Knowledge declaration, a protest by academics against the business practices of Elsevier. So far, more than 14,000 researchers have pledged to refrain from publishing, refereeing or editorial work in Elsevier’s journals. The declaration argues that Elsevier charges “exorbitantly high prices” for subscriptions to individual journals and forces libraries to buy large, expensive bundles.
Reed Elsevier, which owns many of the most prestigious research journals in the world, has been sending mass research takedown notices to everyone from startups like Academia.edu to individual researchers and universities. They brought in about $1.65 billion in scientific and medical research revenue in the first half of this year, through journals like the Lancet and Cell.
For years, they’ve operated a business model where academics provide their research for free and give journals publishing rights to the final versions of their articles in exchange for distribution in prestigious journals. Sometimes academics have quietly published their research on their own personal web sites or new emerging, social networking platforms like ResearchGate or Academia.edu. They’ve done this without feeling too much blowback from the publisher.
But now Reed Elsevier is cracking down on this…
This is an interesting case. This is the point of impact, the point where the arrival of the internet has struck academic publishing. This is the point at which the interests of Elsevier (and indeed many other academic publishers) and the interests of the public are now clearly and diametrically opposed to each other.
The public fund the world of scholarship through taxes or private donations. The scholars’ careers depend on formal publication. They give the copyright on their articles to journal publishers like Elsevier in return for the kudos of publication. Elsevier get scholars to donate their time to run the journals. Elsevier pay for the output to be printed (not an expensive process) and sell the results to university libraries. The university libraries are also funded by the public taxes. But this closed system makes nothing visible to the public. Most of these articles are read hardly at all by anyone.
In consequence, academics have started to place drafts of their work online. The collaborative effect of the internet benefits everyone. Academics get fan mail from non-academics. People discover each other. It works for everyone … except Elsevier, who worry that nobody will pay them to publish the stuff in journals. So they would like to shut it down, unless they can get money from it.
The publishing lobby has the keys to legislators’ tables and wallets, and consequently to their hearts. In Germany the government has basically acted as the stooge for every kind of stupid and short-sighted greediness by that industry. In consequence the German internet is virtually useless. It would be a brave man who could predict that, in the USA, the ruling class will rise above such bribes and promote the public interest. They have shown no urge to restrain the ever-extending term of copyright.
But at the same time, we have come at last to the crossroads. Elsevier is now unnecessary. It really is. All that is needed is for the academics who do the work of editing journals to move away. Printing can be done easily on Lulu.com, if need be. The public interest is now served definitely by getting rid of the academic publishers.
A little bit of social engineering is required here. The skills of a politician are what is needed.
Of course if we got rid of Elsevier, the cost of running universities would fall. Budgets could be cut.
That sounds like something that could be sold to politicians in the current climate.
While looking for material about George Codinus, or pseudo-Codinus as we must call him, I came across a paper on Academia.edu here.[1] which gave a striking picture of the poverty of the Byzantine court at the end of the 14th century:
This picture of court life in the reconquered Constantinople, which is generally regarded as representative of the whole of the late Byzantine period from the late thirteenth century to 1453, is based on the one surviving text from the period after 1204 that contains descriptions of ceremonies, the so-called Treatise on the court titles by the anonymous author known to us as Pseudo-Kodinos. The text dates to some time in the mid-fourteenth century, to the reign of John VI Kantakouzenos, the emperor whose crown was made of glass paste gems and whose coronation banquet tableware was earthenware and pewter.
The reference given is “Nikephoros Gregoras, Byzantina Historia II, Ludwig Schopen, ed. (Bonn 1830) 788.15-789.8.”
This startling picture caused me to go in search of the History of Nicephorus Gregoras. Fortunately p.788 of vol. 2 of the Bonn edition of the text is here, and includes a Latin translation:
Tanta porro tunc laborabat inopia palatium, ut in lancibus et poculis nihil ibi esset aurei aut argentei; sed stannea quidem nonulla, caetera vero omnia fictilia et testacea essent. Ex his quilibet earum rerum non rudis, caetera quoque aliunda requisita, nec ita ut par erat perfecta (tyrannica quippe inopiae vi in factis, in dictis, in consiliis, tum temporis dominante) facile intellecturus est. Nam illa quidem dicere omitto, ut et ipsa in ea solemnitate diademata et vestimenta, maxima ex parte, auri quidam speciem haberent et gemmarum pretiosissimarum; constarent autem illa corio, qualia nonnumquam inaurantur ad coriariorum usum; haec vitro, omnigenis coloribus perlucente.
For then the palace was troubled with such poverty, that in the cups and plates there was nothing of gold or silver; but while some were of tin, all the rest were pottery and earthenware. Of these things there was nothing that was not coarse, and everything else was lacking, and so it may be easily understood that nothing was correct (obviously there was desperate poverty in deeds, in speech, in advice, because of the times). For I am disregarding this, that also their diadems and vestments in that ceremony, for the most part, had some appearance of gold and very precious gems; but the former were made of leather, of the type sometimes gilded according to the custom of the leatherworkers; the latter of glass, shining with every kind of colour.
There is a collection of medieval texts, more or less inter-connected, which contain descriptions of Constantinople, its monuments, statues, origins and so on. I have mentioned a couple already in discussing the tombs of the emperors at the Church of the Holy Apostles, and I have discussed why George Codinus cannot be the author of any of them. But the time has come to give a proper list of the texts in question, if only because I am becoming a little confused myself!
Thankfully I found online today a PDF copy of G. Dagron’s Constantinople Imaginaire (1984), which gives us the information we need to make sense of this confusing body of texts.
Edition: Th. Preger, Scriptores originum Constantinopolitarum, 2 vols, 1901 and 1907. Page numbering is continuous across both vols.
English translation: Albrecht Berger, Accounts of Medieval Constantinople: The Patria, Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library 24, 2013.
The Patria may be divided into three groups as follows:
1. Three independent works which were assimilated into the patriographical corpus in the 10th century.
1.1. H = A work under the title Patri/a Kwnstantinoupo/lewj, being a abbreviated extract from Hesychius of Miletus’ lost History (6th c.). Preserved only in ms. Vatican Palatinus gr. 398 (10th c.). Ed. Preger, p.1-18.
1.2. P = A series of “Brief historical notes”, Parasta/seij su/ntomai xronikai, on the monuments and marvels of Constantinople. A single manuscript, ms. Paris gr. 1336 (11th c.), gives us what one might be tempted to call the original 8th century text, except that it is more a stage in the transmission and stabilisation of a tradition which seems to originate in the 6th century and appears in remodelled form in the collection in the 10th. Ed. Preger, p.19-73.
1.3. D = A narrative which may be dated with difficulty between the 8-10th century, on the construction of Hagia Sophia by Justinian. Historical matter and direct observation is fitted into a largely legendary framework. This work has a separate manuscript tradition of its own, being found not only in the Patria of the 10th c. but also in later chronicles: Glycas and Dorotheus of Monemvasia. Ed. Preger, p.74-108.
2. The second collection seems to go back to around 995 AD and was later placed under the name of one Georgios Kodinos. It was in this form that the Patria circulated most widely: Preger lists 64 manuscripts, and there may be more. The collection contains:
2.1. K I = A reworked version of the Hesychius fragment. Ed. Preger p. 133-150.
2.2. K II = A chapter “on the statues” created from “brief notices” but also including other sources about the monuments of Constantinople. Ed. Preger, p.151-209.
2.3. K III = After a “parasite” text on the first 8 councils of the church, there is a collection of 215 paragraphs “on the foundations”, perhaps extracted from some chronicle. Ed. Preger, p.214-283.
2.4. K IV = A repeat of the “Narrative of the construction of Hagia Sophia” augmented with some additions. Ed. Preger, p.284-289.
3. A remodelling of the above which doesn’t change the content or form, but merely the order of the text, given by various “topographical recensions”, one of which was edited by Alexius I Comnenus (1081-1118).
It would be interesting to know what the Bekker edition and the Patrologia Graeca reprint of it relate to, since these are freely available and contain a Latin translation.
I read today a troubling article about online “free-to-play” games, which instantly reminded me of Wikipedia, and the way in which people become hooked on participating in it. Chasing the whale: examining the ethics of free-to-play games is about online games, that encourage addiction in order to profit from the vulnerable.
“I’d use birthday money, I’d eat cheaper lunches, I’d ask my wife to pay for dinner so I’d have a spare $10-$20 to spend in the store. Which does mean, I guess, that I was thinking about it even away from the game.”
Chris was in his mid-20s when he began spending a few dollars here and there on Team Fortress 2. All of his friends had recently moved out of town, and his wife was now working a nighttime job, leading him to take solace in an online TF2 community. …
“I’ve never really been addicted to anything else, so I can’t say for certain whether a ‘real’ addiction would be stronger,” he notes. “I would say that it felt akin to what I’d expect a compulsive gambling addiction would feel like — social pressures reinforced a behavior that kept me searching for an adrenaline rush I’d never be able to recapture, even as it kept me from making progress in life.”
“There were nights where I’d be up until 3 am drinking beer and playing Team Fortress and chasing those silly hats with purple text, ignoring the gambler’s fallacy and swearing that if I dropped another $50 I’d be sure to win this time,” he adds. “Then I’d wake up the next morning and see that I’d not only spent over a hundred dollars on digital hats, but failed my only objective by uncrating a bunch of junk.” …
Chris’ behavior during this time is how people in the video game industry would describe a “whale”– someone who spends large amounts on free-to-play games, and essentially makes the business model viable by balancing out the 99 percent of players who don’t ever fork out a dime.
And while Chris is happy to admit that a portion of his addiction was no doubt down to his own silly mistakes, he reasons, “I have to question whether a business model built on exploiting ‘whales’ like me isn’t somewhat to blame. Free-to-play games aren’t after everyone for a few dollars — they’re after weak people in vulnerable states for hundreds, if not thousands.”
But what causes people to do this? Well, it isn’t entirely voluntary; not unless we presume that businesses merely hope for the best in such situations.
I also received messages from people who claimed to be ex-employees at free-to-play companies, and who told me that their respective employers would often build games purposely to entrap these “whales.” …
“I used to work at [company], and it paid well and advanced my career,” the person told me. “But I recognize that [company]’s games cause great harm to people’s lives. They are designed for addiction. [company] chooses what to add to their games based on metrics that maximize players’ investments of time and money. [company]’s games find and exploit the right people, and then suck everything they can out of them, without giving much in return. It’s not hard to see the parallels to the tobacco industry. ….
The ex-employee says that it all comes down to one main point: “Enabling self-destructive behavior is wrong.”
“It’s wrong when the tobacco and gambling industries do it, and it’s a shame that portions of the game industry do it too,” they added.
There is some research coming into being, and I highlight a couple of passages:
Dr. Mark D. Griffiths is a psychologist and director of the International Gaming Research Unit in the psychology department at Nottingham Trent University. The professor is well known for his research in the field of video game addiction and gambling.
Griffiths published a paper last year in which he argued that social games have gambling-like elements, even when there is no money involved whatsoever — rather, they introduce the principles of gambling through in-app purchases.
“On first look, games like FarmVille may not seem to have much connection to gambling, but the psychology behind such activities is very similar,” he argues. “Even when games do not involve money, they introduce players to the principles and excitement of gambling. Companies like Zynga have been accused of leveraging the mechanics of gambling to build their empire.”
One element that Griffiths has found to be particularly key in encouraging gambling-like behavior in free-to-play games is the act of random reinforcement — that is, the unpredictability of winning or getting other types of intermittent rewards.
“Small unpredictable rewards lead to highly engaged and repetitive behavior,” he says. “In a minority of cases, this may lead to addiction.” …
Isn’t the goal of every social media site to get people “highly engaged”? Isn’t that what Wikipedia seeks to do to visitors?
In another paper published earlier this year with his colleague Michael Auer, Griffiths argues that “the most important factors along with individual susceptibility and risk factors of the individual gambler are the structural characteristics relating to the speed and frequency of the game rather than the type of game.”
“The general rule is that the higher the event frequency, the more likely it is that the gambling activity will cause problems for the individual (particularly if the individual is susceptible and vulnerable),” he adds. “Problem and pathological gambling are essentially about rewards, and the speed and frequency of those rewards. Almost any game could be designed to either have high event frequencies or low event frequencies.” ….
Griffiths is keen to stress that, as of yet, the psychosocial impact of free-to-play games are only just beginning to be investigated by people in the field of games.
“Empirically, we know almost nothing about the psychosocial impact of gambling via social networking sites, although research suggests the playing of free games among adolescents is one of the risk factors for both the uptake of real gambling and problem gambling,” he adds.
Of course the extraction of money is not a feature of Wikipedia. But inducing people to spend time contributing emphatically is.
I’m not suggesting that the owners of Wikipedia are setting out to do harm to their contributors. My impression is that they are instead largely indifferent to the welfare of contributors, and enjoying creating their encyclopedia.
But the sort of motivators, which we see being exploited and described in the article, may well be happening in Wikipedia also.
I wonder how many “whales” there are, among Wikipedia contributors, getting that “buzz” by spending time on the site?
The Patria — the historical works describing the monuments of Constantinople — are ascribed to George Codinus in some of the manuscripts. Averil Cameron states[1] that:
Preger demonstrated in 1895 (op. cit. n.8) that these works belong to the tenth century and are not (as previously supposed) by George Codinus.
The reference given in Cameron tends to confuse the reader as the only works of Preger referenced there are the 1901-7 Scriptores Originum Constantinopolitarum and the 1898 Anonymi Byzantini edition of the Parastaseis. Fortunately a bit of digging reveals the answer. In fact[2] this is a reference to an 1895 study of the textual tradition entitled Beiträge zur Textgeschichte der πάτρια Κωνσταντινουπόλεως, (München 1895). This may be found online at the Universitätsbibliothek Eichstätt-Ingolstadt and indeed elsewhere.
Preger deals with the matter incisively in the very first paragraph of his work (p.4):
It was the opinion of Lambeck, in his De Codini vita et scriptis, repeated also by Krumbacher in his history of literature, a scholar named George Kodinos in the 15th century published three works: 1. Peri twn o)ffikiwn tou= palation Kpolews [De officiis] 2. the Patria Kpo/lews and 3. a low-quality chronicle. Yet Lambeck himself, in his edition of the Patria made use of a manuscript which can be dated at the latest to the 14th century (Paris gr. 854; labelled H by me). In fact the unknown-to-him manuscript Munich 218 is 11th or 12th century. Either Kodinos lived earlier or he is not the author of the Patria.
He continues:
The reason why Lambeck placed Kodinos in the 15th century was because the chronicle written by him finishes with the fall of Constantinople to the Turks. This wretched concoction follows the Patria in many manuscripts, but is anonymous. The fact that the works are transmitted together tells us nothing about the authorship of either. Probably the chronicle has nothing to do with Kodinos. Nor can we get clues about his life from the Officia aulae Cpolitanae. For even in this work, the name of the author is based only on conjecture.
The Officia was first edited in 1588 by Franciscus Junius from a manuscript of Julius Pacius. The title read, “Tou= sofwta/tou kouropala/tou peri\ tw=n o)ffikiali/wn” etc. So it stands also in ms. Munich 247; in Munich 156 the first two words “tou= sofwta/tou” are missing.
Both manuscripts were written by Andreas Damarios. The vague official title “curopalates” only occurs in manuscripts from Damarios — Lambeck claims that he didn’t find it in any manuscript — so the likelihood that is authentic is very weak.
When Junius published the De officia for the second time in 1596, he printed the title as “Georgi/ou tou= Kwdinou= peri\ tw=n o)ffikiali/wn” etc. because, as he indicates on p.7, in one manuscript the title read “Parekbolai e)k th=j bi/blioi tou= xronikou= peri\ tw=n patrw=n th=j Kwnstantinoupo.lewj . . . . . . sunteqei=sai para\ Fewgri/ou tou= Kwdinou=”.
There is a footnote on “in one manuscript”:
On the title he states: “… recens lacunas non exiguas ope Mss. Palatinae bibliothecae, Augustanae et Seileranae supplevit.” There is no manuscript of the Patria among the Augustanae manuscripts. There are two mss (70 and 301) among the Palatine mss., which include the Patria with the above title and the Officia. Where the Seiler manuscript might be found I do not know.
He continues:
So Junius committed a very serious error: he mixed up the titles of two sequential works, the Patria and the Officia, in the same manuscript. Although Gretser, in his edition of the Officia notes this mistake, he still attributes the work to Georgios Kodinos, probably on no other ground than that he believed that the works in the manuscript were written by the same man. He cites no manuscript evidence, and I have not found the name of Kodinos attached to the Officia in any manuscript.
At this point Preger adds a footnote that he has found a manuscript in the Vatican, Barberini gr. 164, where under p.13, is a note associating the two. But this manuscript too is a Damarios production: and he states that no confidence can be placed in any title given by Damarios. To this effect he quotes Muratori (in Latin): “In one word: so dishonest was Andreas Damarios the Epirote, that we should believe nothing from him nor in his book titles.”
The Officia are to us just as anonymous as the chronicle; they seem to have been written during or after the reign of John Cantacuzene (1341-55).
The name of Georgios Kodinos is only found before the Patria here also only in one family of manuscripts which shows other deviations from the original. It seems likely that Kodinos is merely the name of the scholar to whom we owe the recension of the text of the Patria found in the family of manuscripts that I have labelled B. I will say more about this later. At the moment I will say only that the entry on the fall of the porphyry column in 1106 AD (Bekker p. 15,13 ff) is an interpolation from B. This is also the latest date mentioned in the work. All the manuscripts of B are from the 16th century or at most from the end of the 15th century. It is therefore possible that Kodinos lived in the 15th century, although we cannot prove it. Our only certainty is that his lifetime must be placed between 1106 and ca. 1450.
No author is given for the Patria in any manuscript other than the B mss. In the remainder, there is no date later than the reign of Basil II. Bulgaroktonos (976 -1025) (p. 128,1 ff. Bekker).
Unfortunately at this point the author drops into Greek, saying that the text is named on p.114,11. From this reference he infers that the passage must be written between 989-1006 AD. He continues:
In addition on p.145,6 it is stated that since the foundation of Hagia Sophia is 458 years. This church was founded in 537 AD (see Clinton, Fasti Romani II 143 n.) which places this notice in the year 995 AD. It is therefore certain that the author of the Patria Kpolews did not live in the 15th century but at the turn of the first millennium.
The argument as to the date is not quite conclusive; but the mysterious George Codinus is clearly no longer the author.
[1]Averil Cameron, Constantinople in the Early Eighth Century: The Parastaseis Syntomoi Chronikai : Introduction, Translation, and Commentary, Brill (1984), p.4, n.15.↩
[2]German Wikisource gives links to many of Preger’s works online↩
Lots of ballyhoo in the press, but it is remarkably difficult to find any actual manuscripts digitised by this project, paid for by Leonard Polonsky (to whom all kudos), between the Vatican and the Bodleian libraries.
Anyway, the Greek manuscripts to be digitised are listed here:
The tiny number that have been done so far are linkable. Here are the mss that have been done:
Bodleian MS. Auct. T. inf. 2.1 – Fragment of Genesis (10th c.) A page listing the contents of these mss is here; do a find for “inf.” to locate the entry .
Bodleian MS. Barocci 235 – Catena on the Psalms (9th c.) A page listing the contents of the Barroci mss is here.
The Vatican mss have a table of contents of what is in the manuscript, which is helpful.
The Bodleian seem to intend to do their Barocci manuscripts – mostly miscellaneous stuff, probably containing goodies since accessing them was always a pain. That is rather a good idea.
Soberingly the Bodleian library is still ripping off scholars for reproductions. They charged one poor scholar £200 (300 USD) for images of one Arabic manuscript recently, and bound him by fearsome threats to share the output – delivered as digital images – with nobody.
A bit of a red-letter day today: the interior setup of the Origen book — or Origen of Alexandria: Exegetical works on Ezekiel as I must get used to calling it — is complete. This evening I uploaded the PDF to Lulu.com (which I use to generate proof copies, because Lightning Source do not provide such a facility), and ordered myself a printed and bound copy with a blank cover.
This first proof copy will allow me to check that the PDF actually is right for the printer (well, for a printer), and that the text block doesn’t disappear into the binding and so on.
It’s now the Christmas period, so I don’t suppose this will appear until after Christmas. But once it has, I will generate another proof copy for the translator; two pairs of eyes being better than one. There’s bound to be glitches somewhere, but the typesetter, Simon Hartshorne (whom I found through PeoplePerHour.com), has really done an excellent and painstaking job. He’s also verified the requirements of Lightning Source. Let’s hope that the cold light of print doesn’t reveal too many errors on anybody’s part!
Of course I had no idea how long the book was going to be. Lulu.com will only handle books up to 740 pages. Fortunately the book is 738 pages, without endleaves, so it will just scrape in!
The cover design is finalised, and the templates for the hardback and softback covers will be obtained and completed this week. Simon Hartshorne is doing the cover design as well, and he found a very acceptable pair of cover photographs. It was almost a pity that we couldn’t use both!
I have to admit that Simon has rescued the project, which had languished for a year or two now. The speed and efficiency with which he proceeded through the book — even though I don’t think that he had ever set up an academic book with facing Latin/Greek and English pages — gave everyone an impetus to do the 1% remaining writing. He priced competitively as well.
It’s a big step forward. I’m hoping to have the book on sale by the start of March 2014.
The now-vanished Church of the Holy Apostles stood on a high place in Constantinople with views of the sea to north and south. It stood in the western part of the city, standing on the main street which connected the Forum of Theodosius with the Charisian gate (Edirnekapi), and which corresponds to the modern Fevzi Pasha cadi. It was built by Constantine and substantially rebuilt by Justinian, after which it took the form of a cross with a central dome and subsidiary domes, plus a number of buildings in the grounds. It was in poor repair by 1453, and some of the mausolea were roofless by this time. The church and its ancillary buildings were entirely destroyed by the Turks after they took the city, and the mosque of Mehmet Fatih – Mehmet the Conquerer – built on its site.[1] It is described by Procopius in De aedificiis i.4.9-24,[2] and also in flowery terms by Byzantine writer Nicholas Mesarites, sometime between 1198-1203.[3]
Porphyry sarcophagi of the emperors
Outside the archaeological museum in Istanbul stand four huge porphyry sarcophagi.[4] These seem to have been found in the grounds of the Turkish Topkapi palace nearby, where they were brought, probably for use as building material, and then buried.[5]
That each early emperor was buried in a porphyry sarcophagus – larnax – is attested by the lists of tombs in the church given in the sources. The first of these is contained in the Book of Ceremonies ii.42 by Constantine Porphyrogenitus.[6] Mesarites describes the mausoleums – Heroons – in chapters 39-40. Two other versions of the material appear in the Patria, texts about Constantinople of which I translated a portion last time, and in a manuscript printed by Du Cange. There is also the Chronicon Altinate, which is included in the MGH but which for some reason I am entirely unable to find online at the MGH website.
Let’s have a look at the version in the Book of Ceremonies.
CONCERNING THE TOMBS OF THE EMPERORS WHICH ARE IN THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY APOSTLES
Heroon of the Holy and Great Constantine.
1. In the principal place, to the east, lies the sarcophagus of St. Constantine, [of] porphyry, or rather ‘Roman’ [stone], in which he himself lies with the blessed Helen his mother.
2. Another sarcophagus, [of] porphyry Roman [stone], in which lies Constantius the son of Constantine the Great.
3. Another sarcophagus, porphyry Roman, in which lies Theodosius the Great.
4. Another sarcophagus, green hieracites, in which lies Leo the Great.
5. Another sarcophagus, porphyry Roman, in which lies Marcianus with his wife Pulcheria.
6. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies the Emperor Zeno.
7. Another sarcophagus, Aquitanian, in which lies Anastasios Dikoros with Ariadne his wife.
8. Another sarcophagus, of green Thessalian stone, in which lies the Emperor Michael, the son of Theophilos. Note that this sarcophagus of Michael is that of the Emperor Justin the Great. It lay in the monastery of the Augusta, below the Apostle St. Thomas, in which the robes of the apostles were found. And Lord Leo the Emperor took it and placed it here for the burial of the body of this Michael.
9. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies Basil with Eudokia and Alexander his son.
10. Another sarcophagus, Sagarian or pneumonousiani, in which lies the renowned Leo with his son Constantine, who died later, the Porphyrogennetos.
11. Another sarcophagus, [of] white, so-called imperial, [stone], in which lies Constantine the son of Basil.
12. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies St. Theophano, the first wife of the blessed Leo, with Eudokia her daughter.
13. Another sarcophagus, Bithynian, in which lies Zoe the second wife of the same Leo.
14. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies Eudokia the third wife of the same Lord Leo, she who was surnamed Baine.
15. Another sarcophagus, Proconesian, in which lie Anna and Anna the daughters of the blessed Leo and Zoe.
16. Another small sarcophagus, Sagarian or pneumonousian, in which lies Basil the brother of Constantine Porphyrogennetos, and Bardas the son of Basil his grandfather.
17. Another small sarcophagus, of Sagarian stone, in which lies . . .
Heroon of the Great Justinian
18. At the apse itself, to the east, is the first sarcophagus, in which lies the body of Justinian, of unusual foreign stone, in colour between Bithynian and Chalcedonian, something like stone of Ostrite.
19. Another sarcophagus, of Hierapolitan stone, in which lies Theodora the wife of Justinian the Great.
20. Another sarcophagus lying to the west, on the right hand, of stone of Dokimion, of variegated rose colour, in which lies Eudokia the wife of Justinian the Younger.
21. Another sarcophagus, of white Proconesian stone, in which lies Justin the Younger.
22. Another sarcophagus, of Proconesian stone, in which lies Sophia the wife of Justin.
23. Another sarcophagus, of white stone of Dokimion, onyx, in which lies Heraklios the Great.
24. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies Fabia the wife of Heraklios.
25. Another sarcophagus, Proconesian, of Constantine Pogonatos.
26. Another sarcophagus, of green Thessalian stone, in which lies Fausta the wife of Constantine Pogonatos.
27. Another sarcophagus, Sagarian, in which lies Constantine, the descendant of Heraklios, the son of Constantine Pogonatos.
28. Another sarcophagus, of variegated Sagarian stone, in which lies Anastasios also called Artemios.
29. Another sarcophagus, of Hierapolitan stone, in which lies the wife of Anastasios also called Artemios.
30. Another sarcophagus, of Proconesian stone, in which lies Leo the Isaurian.
31. Another sarcophagus, of green Thessalian stone, in which lay Constantine, the son of the Isaurian, who was surnamed Kaballinos; but he was cast out by Michael and Theodora, and his cursed body was burned. Likewise his sarcophagus was cast out and broken up, and served for the foundations of the Pharos. And the great blocks which are in the Pharos belonged to this sarcophagus.
32. Another sarcophagus, of Proconesian stone, in which lies Eirene the wife of Constantine Kaballinos.
33. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies the wife of Kaballinos.
34. A small coffin of Proconesian stones, in which lie Kosmo and Eirene, sisters of Kaballinos.
35. Another sarcophagus, Proconesian, in which lies Leo the Chazar, son of Constantine Kaballinos.
36. Another sarcophagus, of Proconesian stone, in which lies Eirene the wife of Leo the Chazar.
37. Another sarcophagus, green Thessalian, in which lies Michael Travlos.
38. Another sarcophagus, of Sagarian stone, in which lies Thekla the wife of Michael Travlos.
39. Another sarcophagus, of green stone, in which lies Theophilos the Emperor.
40. Another small sarcophagus, green, in which lies Constantine the son of Theophilos.
41. Another small sarcophagus, of Sagarian stone, in which lies Maria the daughter of Theophilos.
The Stoa to the South of the Same Church
42. In this lie the sarcophagi of Arkadios, Theodosios, his son, and Eudoxia his mother. The tomb of Arkadios is to the south, that of Theodosios to the north, that of Eudoxia to the east, each of the two porphyry or Roman.
The Stoa to the North of the Same Church
43. In this stoa, which is to the north, lies a cylindrically-shaped sarcophagus, in which lies the cursed and wretched body of the apostate Julian, porphyry or Roman in colour.
44. Another sarcophagus, porphyry, or Roman, in which lies the body of Jovian, who ruled after Julian.
Islamic Sultan’s tombs in the grounds of Hagia Sophia
The stoa means only a room containing pillars by this period, so may refer to any building within the church or standing outside of it.[7]
I would speculate that perhaps there were a number of mausolea standing in the grounds of the church, rather like the Islamic tombs of the early Sultans now standing in the grounds of Hagia Sophia?
The shape of the Heroon of Constantine is said by Mesarites to be circular, with a dome. Mesarites tells us that the mausoleum of Justinian had many “stoaed” (i.e. pillared) corners, so perhaps that was octagonal or hexagonal or something like that.
However the arrangement of the tombs within the Heroon, by 400 AD, schematically, was as follows:
Entry to the building was from the west. Mesarites tells us that, in the principal place, at the east end, was the tomb of Constantine the Great. To the south was that of Constantius II, while the tomb of Theodosius the Great was to the north.[8]
Let’s hear from Mesarites:
XXXIX. But let us, if you please, go off to this church which lies toward the east, so that we may look at the things in it, in order to admire and describe them–this church whose founder our discourse has already declared to be Constantius. 2. This whole church is domical and circular, and because of the rather extensive area of the plan, I suppose, it is divided up on all sides by numerous stoaed angles, for it was built for the reception of his father’s body and of his own and of the bodies of those who should rule after them.
3. To the east, then, and in first place the body of Constantine,5 who first ruled the Christian Empire, is laid to rest within this purple-hued sarcophagus as though on some purple-blooming royal couch–he who was, after the twelve disciples, the thirteenth herald of the orthodox faith, and likewise the founder of this imperial city. 4. The sarcophagus has a four-sided shape, somewhat oblong but not with equal sides. The tradition is that Helen, his mother and his fellow-worker for the orthodox faith, is buried with her son.
5. The tomb toward the south is that of the famous Constantius, the founder of the Church. This too is of porphyry color but not in all respects similar to the tomb of his father, just as he who lies within it was not in all ways similar to his father, but was inferior to his father, and followed behind him, in piety and in mental endowment.
6. The tomb toward the north and opposite this, and similar to those which have been mentioned, holds the body of Theodosius the Great like an inexhaustible treasure of noble deeds. 7. The one toward the east, closest to this one, is that of Pulcheria. She is the honored and celebrated founder of the monastery of the Hodegon; see how she, a virgin herself, holds in her hands the likeness of the all-holy Virgin. …
Additional tombs, after Theodosius, were inserted later around the walls.
The Chronicon Altinate gives a list of emperors and their lengths of reigns. It is of interest to us for what it says about the emperors in the mausoleum. Starting on p.62 of MGH supplement 14:
Constantine, son of Constantius, born in Britain from the concubine Helena – the city in his name is in Thrace – … died on the 20th of May, a great and most Christian emperor. His remains were placed in the church of the Holy Apostles in the sacrarium, which he himself also built, in a porphyry “pila”. …
Constantius … son of Constantine reigned for 24 years. Constantine [sic] died on 3rd November and his body was placed in the church of the Holy Apostles in a porphyry “pila”.
Julian the apostate … His body was brought to Constantinople and placed in the western part in the church of the Holy Apostles in a porphyry “labrum”. …
On the 27th September Juvian [sic] died, most religious emperor, in Thichera a city of Galicia, and his body was brought to Constantinople, in the church of the Holy Apostles, in the porphyry “labrum” of the great Constantine. After this his wife was placed in the same “labrum”. He reigned 8 months.
… (the body of Valens was not found) …
[Valentinian]’s body was brought in the time of Theodosius the Great and placed in the church of the Holy Apostles where Constantine the Great [was] in a porphyry “lanarx”. …
On the 7th of January died the emperor Theodosius the Great at Milan. His remains were brought to Constantinople and placed in the church of all the holy Apostles, in the sacrarium of Constantine the Great, in a porphyry “pila”; where also his wife Pracilla had previously been placed.
On the 1st May died the emperor Arcadius and his body was placed in the church of all the Holy Apostles in a porphyry “pilla” [sic] in the middle portico with his wife Eudokia, who before she died [acted] to the injury of St. John Chrysostom. …
And so it continues.
There seem to have been several places in and around the church where imperial bodies may have been laid. Space was no doubt a consideration also.
It is a pity that the site was destroyed. I think most of us would like to see at least the sarcophagus of Constantine! When I next go to Istanbul, I shall make sure that I do; if one of those porphyry tombs is his!
[1]P. Grierson, “The tombs and obits of the Byzantine emperors (337-1042)”, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 16 (1962) 1+3-63. JSTOR. It contains an edition and English translation of the three main sources for the tombs.↩
[3]Glanville Downey, “Nikolaos Mesarites: Description of the Church of the Holy Apostles at Constantinople”, Transactions of the American Philosophical Society 47 (1957), 855-924. JSTOR. Text and English translation from Ms. Milan Ambrosianus gr. 350, formerly F 93 sup. and Ambros. gr. 352, formerly F 96 sup.↩
[5]Cyril Mango, “Three Imperial Byzantine Sarcophagi Discovered in 1750”, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 16 (1962), 397-402. JSTOR. P.398: “The early sultans accumulated a considerable amount of Byzantine sculpture in the grounds of the Seraglio presumably with a view to using it as building material; it is sufficient to recall that some of the imperial sarcophagi that are now exposed in front of the Archaeological Museum were discovered in 1847 in the second court of the Seraglio. All authorities agree that these sarcophagi must have come from the church of the Holy Apostles.”↩
[6]Given on p.642-6 of Reiske’s edition in the Bonn series, and reprinted by Downey in the article above.↩
[7]Downey, p.45: “It should be recalled finally that stoa could well be applied to a building which we should call a mausoleum, since it was used not only to denote a colonnade or portico, but a building or part of a building which was enclosed by pillars or consisted basically of pillars supporting a roof. Zonaras (xiii 4, 28) indeed calls the Mausoleum of Constantine a stoa.”↩
