[456] Ibid.; Gregory of Tours, iv, 8.
[457] See H. Gelzer ad George (properly Gregory) of Cyprus (Teubner), p. xxxii, et seq. Surmise rather than fact.
[458] It will be seen from the references given that none of the Byzantine historians, not Procopius, nor Jn. Lydus, nor Agathias, seems to have harboured a suspicion that Justinian ever "conquered" Spain. The last, however, names Spain incidentally among the places where troops were stationed (v, 13). Such as it was, the conquest lasted no more than eighteen years for, at the end of that period, Leovigild (c. 572, Johannes Biclar) expelled the Byzantines from Cordova, their only important stronghold. For another century or so they probably languished on the coast till the coming of the Mohammedans (c. 709) who in the course of a decade made an actual conquest of Spain to the Frankish border, which endured for nearly eight centuries. Through Egypt, after wresting Syria from the Byzantines, they wound their path of victory westwards along the African seaboard until the inviting proximity of Ceuta to the northern mainland determined their entry into Europe. Simultaneously the Arabs achieved the extinction of Christianity in all these regions, where, after the lapse of more than a thousand years, a renewal of Western civilization now seems to be steadily progressive. Generally on the subject of this section see F. Dahn, Die Könige der Germanen, v, p. 123 et seq. (Würz., 1870); Dict. Christ. Biog. (Smith), sb. Leovigild; and Gibbon (Bury), v, p. 471 et seq.; also the Spanish and French historians.
CHAPTER IX
THE BUILDING OF ST. SOPHIA: THE ARCHITECTURAL WORK OF JUSTINIAN
WHILST it is evident that the distinctive character of Justinian impelled him to be incessantly active in every branch of the monarchical profession, the devastation wrought at Constantinople by the Nika rebellion might have awakened a passion for building in the breast of the most phlegmatic Emperor.[459] A mass of sightless ruins had taken the place of those architectural adornments which are the essential feature of a capital and the foundations of the dignity of a throne.
The restoration of the precincts of the Palace was the most pressing necessity, and Justinian applied himself to the task without a moment's delay. At the same time he determined that the new buildings should surpass in beauty those which had been destroyed, and he devoted himself to the restoration of the great metropolitan church with especial zeal. More fortunate than Constantine, he had not to complain that architects of reputation were undiscoverable; and in Anthemius of Tralles and Isidorus of Miletus,[460] he found men who were capable of conceiving and executing great designs. Neither history nor modern research enables us to explain with fullness the origin and evolution of that variety of ecclesiastical building which is recognized as typically Byzantine, and of which the church of St. Sophia, erected by Justinian, remains to the present day as the only decided prototype. The accounts which have come down to us of the construction of this edifice indicate clearly that the architects engaged in the work were attempting to do something which had not been done before; or, at least, that their design, if not original, had never to their knowledge been put into practice on so large a scale. Failure, therefore, was a contingency with which they had to reckon, and, until their scheme was completed, they had to be prepared to modify or even to abandon their plan.[461]
The Emperor had resolved that the proportions of the new church should be much greater than those of the old one, and therefore the extension of the site was the first requirement of his undertaking. On the south side the ground was clear, but the open space of the Augusteum barred any encroachment in that direction. On the other three sides, however, the area was hemmed in by various buildings, and several of these were private property. Some of the difficulties encountered at the outset, therefore, arose from the obstinacy of adjacent owners, who refused to sell their lots at a reasonable price or to part with them on any terms whatever. Obstacles of this class were the origin of a crop of stories which obtained currency among the populace, who were amused by hearing of the ruses adopted to defeat the wilfulness of certain occupants. Their truth cannot now be tested, and in general they may be disbelieved; but there seems to be some foundation for the anecdote related of a widow named Anna, who stubbornly declined to negotiate for the sale of her house. Nobles waited on her without result, and at length the Emperor came in person and begged of her to name her terms. Upon this she fell on her knees and declared that she would accept no money for her freehold, but entreated him to take it as a gift to St. Sophia on condition that she should be buried in the corner of the church whereon her dwelling had stood. Her proposal was agreed to, and in after ages the area in question continued to be pointed out as the "widow Anna's lot."[462] That trouble of this kind might be real enough may be inferred from the absence of any legislation providing for the compulsory sale of property required for public purposes in accordance with the decision of a board of expert arbitrators.
As soon as the architects had matured their design for the construction of the great edifice, the collection of the materials required to bring their conceptions into substantial existence was in itself an arduous task. The church was to be built of brick, but its richness was to be derived from the liberal use of pillars and slabs of polished marble in every available situation. An Imperial rescript was despatched to the Rectors throughout the provinces, desiring them to search their districts, and transmit to the capital any relics of ruined and deserted temples which might be suitable for the Emperor's purpose. In response to this appeal it is particularized that eight porphyry columns, the remains of a temple of the Sun, were sent from Rome, and eight of green marble from Ephesus;[463] and we may assume that a large quantity of such mementoes of polytheism were amassed at Constantinople about this time, which, if not used for St. Sophia, were employed in the restoration of other parts of the disfigured city.[464] Much new marble was, however, quarried in various localities widely distant in order to obtain the variety of tints and variegated patterns needed to make a brilliant display when placed in position throughout the building. From Carystus came a light green, and from the Phrygian mountains a rose-coloured marble diversified with streaks of deep red and silver. Sparta supplied an emerald green, and the Iassian hills a blood-red species veined with a livid white. Much porphyry was floated down the Nile; in Lydia was found a bright-tinted marble seamed with lines of red, and in Numidia a crocus-stained variety which shone like gold. Atrax yielded a green and blue marble resembling grass sprinkled with cornflowers; and lastly there was an abundant supply of the coarse white kind in the adjacent Isle of Proconnesus.[465]
Having cleared and surveyed the site, the architects drew out the plans of the church and fixed the interior measurements at 270 × 230 feet. The central portion of this area was to be covered by a dome having a diameter of 107 feet, which should overhang the pavement at a height of 160 feet. No roof of any magnitude, elevated in this manner, was known to them, of which the dome was not upheld by frequent supports, so that free movement from end to end of the building was obstructed by their presence. Anthemius and Isidorus, however, determined that the nave of their church should lie open for its full width in a clear sweep from the main entry to the apse, in which stood the Patriarch's throne.[466] In the central area, therefore, at the corners of a quadrangular space, they raised four piers of massive proportions to uphold an equal number of arches, each of which was to have a span of 100 feet. Blocks of stone were used for the construction of these piers, and, instead of mortar, melted lead was poured into the interstices to knit them more firmly together.[467] At each corner, the triangular intervals left above the junctions of the arches were filled up with brickwork, and thus were formed four pendentives to sustain the base of the dome.[468] To resist the thrust of the great arches, four lesser ones, two on each side, crossed the aisles of the church to the external walls, which in that position were provided with heavy masses of masonry to receive them.[469] Forty windows ranged in a great circle perforated the base of the dome, which was divided by an equal number of ribs converging from the circumference to its vertex. From the base of the dome the roof was led down by a pair of semi-domes to the east and west walls, and completed on each side by vaulted archings which joined the lateral walls. The nave was separated from the aisles by rows of lofty columns with sculptured capitals, on which rested a series of arches to support the women's galleries. From them lesser pillars, more numerous,[470] reached to the roof; and each corner of the nave proceeded by a semicircular sweep to meet the Royal Door and the apse.[471] On the west a narthex[472] extended all across the church, and above it the galleries became continuous in an area posterior to the nave.[473] The building was flooded with light from windows which in great number passed through the external walls in every direction.