Sphrantzes in winter

Marginal drawing, Book of Hours, Utrecht, ca. 1460.

 Giorgios Sphrantzes finished "the account of the events that occurred during my wretched life," on 29 March 1478.  He had introduced himself as "pitiful" and he was much to be pitied. He was seventy-six and a half years old, cold, aching from many years of rheumatism.  Ten years earlier, he and his wife, penniless after lives in imperial palaces, had made confessions of faith and joined convents. In October 1476 he became desperately ill with an infection of the sinuses, ears, and throat.  He was given the last rites three times.  When it was clear that he would live longer, he was deaf for a long time -- he couldn't hear a bell tolling next to him -- and his feet were too painful to walk.

He wrote.  He wrote a priceless book in his own hand, giving us an intimate view of the important individuals and events of the last years of the Eastern Empire. There is much about it that is uneven and incomplete, but he apologizes, "as old age and infirmity did not allow me to finish my work properly." He placed the completed book in the hands of the priest Antonios.

When you read it as a retrospective view, rather than as a contemporary chronicle, it is a book saturated in loss. It begins with death, that of Beyazid I and ends that paragraph with "Mehmed . . . who enslaved us and expelled us from Constantinople." The next event he reports is the humiliation of Manuel, to whom he was devoted, and then the birth of his beloved Constantine. Manuel's brother Theodoros dies, the Patriarch dies, then plague takes Sphrantzes' sister, her husband, a daughter, six servants, and then his parents die.

He finds himself isolated, although he is firmly embedded in the imperial court, best friends with the emperor's sons, with responsibility for the emperor's wardrobe. It is with his first title, protovestiaritis, that he identifies himself at the end of his life despite the accumulation of further titles. When Manuel dies, John inherits his loyalty, and then Constantine begs John for Sphrantzes' services.  He serves Constantine from the fall of 1428 until 29 May 1453, and as soon as he is able to free himself from slavery, he travels to the Morea to offer his services to Thomas, following him into exile.

At the end of his book, he has outlived all Manuel's sons and some of their children, his own four children -- Andronikos died at 8 days, Alexios at nearly six, John was killed by Mehmed at the age of fourteen and a half on a charge of murder in 1453, and Tamar died about the same age of disease in Mehmed's seraglio in 1455 -- and his wife, and his remaining friend.  In 1452 he had wanted to take John on a trip with him, and leave him in the Morea with family for safety, but the trip never came about.  Tamar was to have married in the Morea but she was not old enough for marriage when travelling was possible.

For all he has seen and done, little in his writing gives us images from his world.  He refers to "silver-sealed" documents and Constantine signs a marriage agreement "with his own hand three crosses in red ink on the upper part of the document,"  but the silver and red ink are for him signs of authority, not images.  But there are a few, in the section of his book with the most detail: the scene outside Patras where he and Constantine are pursued on horseback in a skirmish. Constantine fell, Sphrantzes defended him, he escaped, and then Sphrantzes and his horse were cut down.  Sphrantzes was taken prisoner and "thrown into the dark tower of a house, full of ants, weevils,  and mice, as it was located in front of the grain storage."  When he was finally freed from prison, half-dead from wounds and starvation, Constantine sent him "an expensive double green tunic lined with fine green linen . . . a red cap decorated with gold . . . a heavy, gold-colored caftan from Brusa, a green coat, and a finely worked sword." 

And there is his isolated description of 25 January 1470, desperately sad when you think of what it implies: "so much snow covered the whole island of Corfu as no local inhabitant had ever seen.  It was even possible to catch foxes and hares by hand."

Her most dear daughter: Helena Palaiologina of Cyprus

 Women and their daughters:
donors from frescos in Galata and Pedhoulas, Cyprus.

Helena's mother died when she was five years old, an age to have established specific memories, as well as a sense of devastating loss.  In their memorials for Cleofe, Nikiforas Cheilas spoke of "her most dear daughter," and Demetrios Pepagomenos, the family doctor said, "Your beloved daughter mourns you, bereaved of her dear mother at so young an age, at a time when she most needed you, and required your instruction and advice, who have left her with no maternal consolation."  

Her father completely fell to pieces, so Helena had no help there, and we have no real sense of what kind of companionship might have been available to her. She was given a foster-mother (who apparently had no name), unmentioned in Greek sources. Plethon and Bessarion and Cheilas and Scholarios and the rest of the intellectuals would have been very nice to Helena, but I think of a mother -- Andromache -- speaking of what the death of a parent means to a child:

He bows his head before every man, his cheeks are bewept, he / goes, needy, a boy among his father's companions, / and tugs at this man by the mantle, that man by the tunic, / and they pity him, and one gives him a tiny drink from a goblet, / enough to moisten his lips, not enough to moisten his palate. (XXII, Lattimore trans.)

 On 3 February 1442, possibly on her fourteenth birthday, and a day or so after she arrived in the country, she was married to the King of Cyprus, John II, in the cathedral of Nicosia. Look at that photograph, and then look at the cathedral of Mistra.  She must have found it overwhelming, the city overwhelming, after the little churches and closed spaces of Mistra. She was from a puritan court when men and women were covered from neck to feet (and women's heads and necks covered, and she came to a court where the men wore tight-fitting hose, very short jackets which showed more than anyone needs to know about, great puffed sleeves, and wide turbans; the women, high-waisted, low-necked gowns with long trailing sleeves and upswept hair revealing great expanses neck, bosom, and back. I imagine a terrified adolescent, adamantly refusing to change her dress, almost flaunting her severely covered-up Greek style and hidden hair.
 
John was  ten years older than she, had become king at the age of fourteen, had been married before (to a distant relative, Medea Palaiologina of Montferrat), and had a very pretty mistress at court -- Marietta de Patras -- by whom he had a son.  A story is told concerning Helena's treatment of Marietta's nose, either by biting it off or by having it cut off (with the intent of causing an abortion, although the infant involved was three years old at the time), but the nose sounds unlikely and is very much the sort of story that abounds in Cypriot accounts of high-born women.  As does the story that she poisoned the husband of her 13-year old daughter.  Really, Cleofe's daughter simply could not have done that.  Further, accounts of the street brawl and illness that immediately preceded the husband's death suggest other possibilities.

Nothing survives as direct evidence of Helena, there is no correspondence and no documents -- only what people reported, and the reports are almost entirely from those who fall on the Latin side of the Latin-Orthodox divide. Her foster-mother, and her son Thomas, had accompanied her to Nicosia.  They are remembered as powerfully ambitious.  Helena is remembered in the Cypriot chronicles for imposing her Mistra Greeks on the Lusignan court, for pushing policies that favored the Orthodox, for hostility to the Latin church, and for seizing and using political power -- with the consent of her husband.  They also complained that she spent money aiding refugees from Constantinople.

The Cypriot chronicler, Henrico Giblet, described her as "fine & adroite" -- fine could mean "pretty," but he more likely meant "subtle, shrewd, sharp." The chronicler Estienne de Lusignan described her as "una donna astuta & sagace greca" -- "an astute and shrewd Greek lady."  Of course she was, with those parents, but I think it is particularly through comparisons with her mother, Cleofe, that we begin to understand what was said about her, and understand how she had been damaged even before she arrived in Cyprus.

Helena was particularly reviled for her support of Orthodoxy, her generosity to a particular monastery, and her advancement of Orthodox clergy.  Nothing is said about her own spiritual life, but who had there been to nurture it?  Cleofe was deeply devout, but she had grown up with, and when at Mistra, corresponded continually with women who were equally devout.  A small girl could translate deep devotion into militant action as an adult, particularly in what she must have felt as isolation.

In 1451, Constantine sent his trusted Sphrantzes to Cyprus. He said:

. . . do you know the monk I met a few days ago?  He brought me a message from my niece that she is in need of something; she would have told me in her own voice what she wanted; had it been possible, she would have sent her message through a  loyal, trusted courtier, but she has none.  As she does not have one and cannot make the trip, I must send a man whom I consider appropriate . . . it is you, since you have acted  and made decisions for me, know me personally, and have been informed. (XXXIII. 8-9)"

". . . not enough to moisten her palate."  Helena had no one whom she could trust.  That is a significant comment, considering the presence of a foster-mother and brother, and it is not a rare characteristic of individuals who have been bereaved at a young age.  Still, Sphrantzes does not say if he actually made the trip.

Giblet, said that "she liked being queen, she also acted like a King, and in effect, governed the kingdom." Estienne de Lusignan said, "vedendo il suo marito esser huomo feminile inhabile à regger'il regno; prese lei il governo" -- "seeing her husband was weak and unable to rule his kingdom, she took over the government," and he later reports that the High Court declared Helena regent. (But her grandmother Helena had served as regent when Manuel was abroad.) One account says that John was never entirely well, but Pius II -- and later chroniclers -- wrote that John had been educated among women as a boy, that he acted more as a woman than as a man, and concerned himself with banquets and pleasure.

Is John's life of sensual pleasure the only explanation for Helena's participation in government? Perhaps, but having been educated among women, perhaps he appreciated female ability.  Perhaps he recognized the girl's intelligence, perhaps he knew something of Plethon, and found her valuable.  Particularly if he recognized he had few talents for his position, something about which the chroniclers had no doubt whatsoever. Helena's mother, Cleofe, had been an equal (though discrete) participant in her husband's rule.  Pepagomenos had said:

For there was nothing that was not communicated to your judgement and thus some difficult problems were solved, while matters of greater moment, of holy governance and of the (soul’s) ascent were determined by the superiority of your virtue.  . . .

For you were the best co-worker urging him toward the good, and consoling him for what was incurable, a good counsellor,

And Cheilas had said:

. . . as she stood by her husband, the most holy despot, yielded to the men around him and enjoyed a sort of splendor and radiance while doing only what seemed right to her.  . . . In the midst of turmoil, when present among the imperial councillors she gave virtuous advice of every sort, and made herself available to help everyone, from which both sides learned the better, and the better triumphed over both . .

Well, Cleofe had grown up without a mother, but with Battista's love and guidance in poise and discretion.  Helena had no such guide as she moved into adolescence, but she apparently had the touchy disposition of her father Theodoros and grandfather Manuel.

Pius II wrote that her foster-brother Thomas ruled in his mother's place, his mother ruled in Helena's place, and Helena ruled in place of the king -- "regina regem regebat."  He was proud of his literary style. It is true that King John made Thomas Chamberlain of Cyprus. It is also true that John's son, James, eventually murdered Thomas.  It was not James' only murder.  James was tall, broad-shouldered, terribly good-looking, much indulged by his father.

The Genoese governor of Famagusta wrote, "The king was governed by a queen . . . a detestable Greek."  A chronicle published in 1788, by the Archimandrite Cipriano, says: ἀλλ´ οὖσα τῇ ἀληθεία γυνὴ μὲ φρόνημα ἀνδρικόν. καὶ πνεύματος ὀξέος, καθὸ Ρωμαία -- "though she was in truth a woman, she had a man's mind, and a quick spirit -- since she was Greek." That is what Nikeforas Cheilas had said about her mother Cleofe: "she possessed a truly masculine intelligence."  The Greeks seemed to appreciate what the Latins found threatening.

Beyond these remarks, all we know about her is that she was never very healthy.  We have no real impression of her personality, no idea of how she and her husband regarded each other outside issues of ruling. There were two daughters: Charlotte, born in 1444, who was married at thirteen and queen at fourteen; and Cleofe who died very young, in 1448.  Helena herself died 11 April 1458, at the age of thirty. One of the chronicles has her, on her deathbed, angry at the marriage John had planned for Charlotte, to a first cousin, and demanding Charlotte reject the marriage.

John died the next month. The deaths are not explained.  Charlotte became queen, and in the fall married the cousin.  Her half-brother, James, claimed the throne, and with the aid of Egyptian troops captured Famagusta and Nicosia, driving Charlotte from Cyprus.  Charlotte died in Rome in 1487 and was buried in St. Peter's.  James eventually married Caterina Cornaro, who later sold Cyprus to Venice, and was painted by Gentile Bellini.



 Broto is essential for Helena:

Eva Latorre Broto, "Elena Paleóloga de Chipre: revisión de un mito," Erytheia 23 (2002) 159-186, in Spanish.

______, "Η Ελένη Παλαιολογίνα, αναθεώρηση ενός θρύλου," L’épopée dans le monde grec: Η εποποιια μεσα στον ελληνικο χωρα. Colloque International, Nancy, mars 2001. 
 (If you are unable to find one of these articles and really need it, write me privately for a PDF.)

also, a brief account in
Ioanna Christoforaki, "Sainted Ladies and Wicked Harlots": perceptions of gender in medieval Cyprus." 
 

Manuel's Grandchildren

The single coin issued in the Morea by Manuel II Palaiologos.

Manuel Palaiologos and his wife Helena had ten children recorded for history by Sphrantzes. Their first Constantine and two daughters died in Monemvasia, of plague.  Later, the infant Michael died in Constantinople, also of plague.  After him there were two more sons, for a total of six sons, which augured well for the future.  But.

John had no children at all.

Theodoros had one daughter who lived to adulthood and who had daughters of her own. A second child, probably a son died before birth, with his mother.

Andronikos never married, and died in his 20s.

Constantine fathered two children who died before birth, with their mothers.

Demetrios had a daughter who eventually ended up in Mehmed's harem as a hostage for his good behavior.  She died there.

Five sons of Manuel produced no male heirs.

It was left to Thomas, the youngest.  His first child, Helena, was married to in 1446 to Lazar Brancović, later Despot of Serbia. Helena and Lazar had a daughter, Helena, the next year.  More than twenty years after the birth of Helena, and after the birth of their grandchild, Thomas' wife Katerina gave birth to a son in January 1453.  We know almost nothing about Thomas during those twenty years, but from the way he treated Katerina's brother, his relationship with her cannot have been a particularly pleasant one. The boy was not called Manuel after his grandfather in approved Greek fashion, but Andreas after the patron saint of Patras, one of Thomas' two capitals.

So at the time of the fall of Constantinople, in 1453, Manuel's heirs consisted of a baby boy, and two granddaughters and a great-granddaughter all named Helena after his wife.

It was in 1453 Thomas went to war against Demetrios who had been panting for the throne for years, and who had tried to take it from Constantine when John died.  Thomas may have thought a son gave him a certain weight in the inheritance stakes.  A second son was born in 1455, this one called Manuel.  Thomas fought for control of the Morea, tooth and claw, fire and axe, until he was forced to make his escape in the summer of 1460.

Thomas died in 1465, having learned that the "crusade" begun the previous year that promised to retrieve the throne for him was a disaster.  He had not seen his children since leaving them in Corfu in 1460 -- their mother had died in 1462 -- and he had written asking that they be sent to Rome.  He had just time enough to learn that they had arrived in Ancona.

 Cardinal Bessarion brought young Andreas, Manuel, and their sister Zoe to Rome where he established a household for them, and arranged for their education -- Zoe was to have the same education as her brothers.  Weary Giorgios Sphrantzes visited them the next year -- "Lord Andreas, the despot, and Prince Manuel, my masters"-- and stayed for a month.  Andreas was 13, Manuel 11. There is much that Sphrantzes could have told us about that visit, much that he could have told the children to give them some sense of their family.

One thing that strikes me in this narrative is the way the effects of nature reflect the process of history.  The brothers Palaiologos might have been expected to produce at least six or eight grandsons for Manuel.  There was one infant male in May 1453.  One could have simply kept track of the children and known there was no future.

Bessarion to Theodoros, Part Two

The empty throne room at the palace of Mistra
before the grotesque archaological reconstruction.

This is the second of Bessarion's two letters to Theodoros II Palaiologos, written in Constantinople in 1436.  For the first, go here.

Explaining this period, Sphrantzes (XXII) says that Theodoros traveled to Constantinople in March 1436 on the same ship as Zoe Paraspondylos who was to be married to Demetrios Palaiologos.  Although he was presenting himself as heir to the throne, John VIII was uneasy about this, much preferring Constantine. (Constantine confided this to Sphrantzes, and Bessarion wrote his two letters.) But plans were worked out that Thomas and Constantine would have the Morea, and Theodoros and Demetrios would remain in Constantinople.

Thus Constantine sailed for the Morea in June, and Theodoros, jealous, followed him immediately.  As suggested in the comments for the previous letter, Theodoros had a difficult personality. Armies were collected and there was some skirmishing.  John sent ambassadors who managed to cool things down for a bit, and followed them up with another embassy that arranged for Constantine to return to Constantinople and for Theodoros to have Mistra again.

* * * * * * 

To the same.

Since frequent correspondence is remembrance, while a long time of silence is forgetfulness, how could anyone blame us for choosing the better: memory and frequent correspondence, and siding with the stronger side, unless it is right to agree that tending to the proper relationship with benefactors and showing gratitude for such good things as are already available to us is a crime. Of course, where there are no great occasions to support memory, then no just debt is owed, but those who fail in remembrance would properly have to observe a decline in the number of those they are neglecting, for there is a recompense that comes about for those who put benefactors to the forefront. In your case, what could anyone forget, or how might anyone in justice fail to recall your kingly soul, the soul of a father, a ruler and a benefactor? For to us you are all these things through your encompassing solicitude, and the benefactions you grant are less part of the burdens of rule but, rather, you pour them out as magnanimous gifts, given by your own hand and from your generosity to us.

I, myself, am aware of the most excellent gifts I have received from you, and no one could ask for more, nor speak of a greater degree of favor. For great things,I am exchanging small things, whose value I would wish to increase, and offering them to those for whom anyone who offers such little things would be presenting himself simply as properly courteous, although there may also perhaps be those to whom small things will appear to be just what they are, small. To you kings, who practice magnanimity, what is brought to you even though small, seems great, for you measure great and small in your own way, differently from us. When you offer great things, you count them as less even than is right and proper, not paying attention to what the recipients deserve, but how much is required by your generosity. When you receive little in return, you think it much, judging things by their intent and setting your measure according to the ability of the giver. You, unless, by some chance you were later at variance with us, your subjects, would not exclude the memory of our good wishes from your soul. You do remain mindful of those who love you. Remaining consistent with yourself and proffering all the things that correspond with what we previously enjoyed from you, may you treat us still in future in these seemly and effective ways. You will confirm our hopes and show yourself in every way the ruler we marvel at. What we say about you concerning your great-spirited and noble soul and intelligence, you yourself will give witness to by the actions you set forth.

* * * * * *

Τῷ αὐτῷ.

   Ὅτι τὸ μὲν πυκνὰ ἐπιστέλλειν ἐστὶ μνημονεύειν, ἀμνημονεῖν δέ γε τὸ (3)

πολύν τινα χρόνον σιγᾶν, πῶς ἄν τις ἡμῖν ἓν τοῦτ’ ἐγκαλῶν, τὴν μνήμην

καὶ τὸ πυκνὰ ἐπιστέλλειν μέμψαιτό γε δικαίως ἅπαξ ἑλομένοις τὸ βέλτιον καὶ (5)

γενομένοις μετὰ τῆς κρείττονος μοίρας, εἰ μὴ καὶ τὸ τὰ εἰκότα περὶ τοὺς

εὐεργέτας τηρεῖν καὶ ταῖς ὑπάρξεσιν ἀγαθῶν εἰδέναι χάριν ὁμολογεῖν ἐγκλή-

ματος ἄξιον; καὶ μὴν ὅπου μὲν οὐ μεγάλαι τινὲς ἀφορμαὶ προϋπάρχουσαι

μνήμης, οὐδὲ δίκαιον ὀφείλεται χρέος. οἵ τε ἀμνημονοῦντες ἔχοιεν ἂν παραι-

τήσασθαι, ὧν τε ἀμνημονοῦσιν εἰκότως ὑποίσουσι. συμβαίνει γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἡ (10)

ἀντέκτισις, οἷς αὐτοὶ προκατέθεντο. σοῦ δὲ τί ἄν τις ἢ πῶς ἐπιλάθοιτο

πῶς δ’ ἂν δικαίως ἀμνημονοίη τῆς μεγαλόφρονος ὄντως καὶ βασιλικῆς ἐκείνης

ψυχῆς, τοῦ πατρός, τοῦ δεσπότου, τοῦ εὐεργέτου; πάντα γὰρ ταῦτα μετὰ

πολλῆς τῆς περιούσης ἡμῖν <μεριμνᾶς> ἦσθα, ὀλίγα μὲν τῷ τῆς ἀρχῆς χαρι-

ζόμενος ὄγκῳ, παντὸς δὲ πατρὸς μᾶλλον ἡμῖν εὐνοῶν καὶ δαψιλεῖ τῇ χειρὶ (15)

φιλοτίμους καταντλῶν δωρεάς.

    Ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν ἐμαυτῷ συνειδὼς ἁπάντων τετυχηκότι παρὰ σοῦ τῶν

καλλίστων χαρίτων, ὧν οὐκ ἄν τις ᾔτησε πλείους, εὐμενείας οὐδ’ ὅσης εἰπεῖν,

τιμῆς ὅσης ἂν ἴσως ηὐξάμην, μικροῖς τὰ μεγάλα ἀμείβομαι, καὶ οἷς ἄν τις

ἐνδείξαιτο τὸν εὐγνώμονα μόνον τά γε μὴν μικρὰ ταῦτα, ἄλλοις μὲν ἴσως (20)

μικρά, καὶ ὅπερ ἐστί, δόξει. τοῖς δέ γε βασιλεῦσιν ὑμῖν μεγαλοψυχίαν ἀσκοῦσι

καὶ μικρὰ ὄντα τὰ προσαγόμενα μεγάλα δοκεῖ. ἐναντίως ἐφ’ ἑαυτῶν ἢ ἡμῶν

τὸ μέγα μετροῦσι καὶ τὸ μικρόν. μεγάλα μὲν γὰρ παρεχόμενοι μείω ἔτι

λογίζεσθε τοῦ πρέποντος εἶναι καὶ τῆς ἀξίας, οὐχ ὅτου ἄξιοι οἱ λαμβάνοντες

συνορῶντες, ἀλλ’ ὅσα ὑμᾶς χαρίζεσθαι δέον. μικρὰ δὲ ἀπολαμβάνοντες μεγάλα (25)

ἡγεῖσθε, προθέσει τὰ πράγματα κρίνοντες καὶ τῇ τῶν προσαγόντων δυνά-

μει τὸ μέτρον ὁρίζοντες. σὺ δ’ εἰ μὴ μετὰ τοῦτό πω τῶν ὑπηκόων καὶ γνώμῃ

διασταίης ἡμῶν, μηδ’ ἐξέλοις γε τῆς ψυχῆς τῶν εὔνων τὴν μνήμην· ἀλλὰ

μνημονεύεις μὲν τῶν φιλούντων. εὖ δὲ ποιοῖς τοῖς εἰκόσι καὶ δυνατοῖς, αὐτὸς

αὑτῷ συμφωνῶν καὶ συμβαίνοντα παρεχόμενος, οἷς σου πρότερον ἀπηλαύσα- (30)

μεν, πάντα τὰ μετὰ ταῦτα. βεβαιώσεις μὲν ἡμῖν τὰς ἐλπίδας, διὰ πάντων

δὲ τὸν θαυμαστὸν ἐπιδείξεις δεσπότην. καὶ οἷς αὐτοὶ περὶ σοῦ λέγομεν τῆς

μεγαλόφρονος καὶ γενναίας ψυχῆς τε καὶ γνώμης, πράγμασιν αὐτὸς μαρτυρή-

σεις τὴν ἔργῳ παρεχόμενος ἡμῖν μαρτυρίαν.

* * * * * *

The English translation is by Pierre A. MacKay. The Greek text was downloaded from:

Ludwig Mohler, Kardinal Bessarion als Theologe, Humanist und Staatsman. Vol. III, (Neudruck der Ausgabe Paederborn 1942) Scientia Verlag Aalen Ferdinand Schöning. Paderborn 1967. pp. 425—427 (Venice Cod. Marc. gr. 533, fol. 50—51) available here.http://www.kenef.phil.uoi.gr/pdf/34852/34852.pdf

PS, Part One: Imperials

Speaking of Maria of Trebizond and her riding outfit, I have been looking for all the upper-class ladies I can find from the last decades of the Empire, trying to find a gown suitable for wearing on a horse. Most imperial ladies are shown dressed something like Jelena of Serbia in the mid-1300s (left) or Maria's mother-in-law, Helena. Bulky. Stiff. Important. These images were not intended as fashion statements, but as statements of empire.

Clearly such robes were not for riding astride. However, a contemporary image turned up of a delectable blonde, Anna Radene Lemniotida from Kastoria. She has a an important hat, masses of carefully-maintained curls, big earrings, a wide cloak. Sixteen rings on her long slender fingers. Her red robe has huge hanging sleeves, and I bet there is enough fabric in the rest of it to accommodate riding astride quite easilly. This is not a definitive solution, but it is interesting.

* * * * *

Then there is the question of porphyrogennetos. The Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium avoids making a commitment here, and Wikipedia doesn't quite get it. Recall that Sphrantzes said that -- this was at the point when John had died, before Constantine arrived in Constantinople -- Sphrantzes said that Demetrios was not a despot and "porphyrogennetos according to the custom of Constantinople." [Late note: either Sphrantzes was lying, or he forgot: Demetrios had been Despot of Lemnos for 15 years.] What he meant by "the custom of Constantinople" has been a problem. For a long time porphyrogennetos described an imperial child born in a special pavilion at the palace set aside for births. It was lined with porphyry, perhaps, or hung with purple curtains, and porphyrogennetos means "born in the purple." But that pavilion fell down or out of use by the 11th century.

A close examination of the texts on this splendid family portrait, painted in a manuscript to be sent to Paris about 1403, gives a clue. The texts, three for the boys, and two for their parents (not shown here), are crammed with titles. Manuel is pistos basileus, autokrator and augustos. Helena, augusta and autokratorisa. John, the oldest son, dressed like his father, is also pistos basileus. Theodoros, the second son, porphyrogennetos. Andronikos, the youngest at that point, authentopoulos, which means "true son."

John's title, basileus, means that his father had chosen him as successor to the throne of the Eastern Empire, and Westerners called him "the little king." Theodoros called himself porphyrogennetos in a poem he wrote for his parents. By analogy with basileus, and with the fact that a "true son" in Greco-Roman tradition means that a child was so recognized by his father, it seems clear that porphyrogennetos in this case was a title given by the the emperor who was also the father.

The texts on this image help make clear what is meant where, one page after the passage in Sphrantzes where it says that Demetrios was not a despot and porphryogennetos, a subsequent passage says that "the despot and porphryogennetos, Lord Demetrios, went to the Morea."

So when Constantine arrived in Constantinople as Emperor, he appointed Demetrios (who was already there trying desperately to be Emperor) to serve as Despot along with Thomas. Both Demetrios and Thomas signed their documents as porphyrogennetos. Demetrios did not have the title of porphyrogennetos at the time when John died, but Constantine as Emperor gave him the title with the appointment.

"After the custom of Constantinople," is a red herring. Sphrantzes was devoted to the memory of Manuel II, for whom he began working when he was a child. He would writing nothing that might possibly be construed as the remotest criticism of his beloved Emperor, and, of course, everyone who was anyone would understand what "after the custom of Constantinople" meant.