Constantine XI and the No Good, Very Bad Couple of Centuries
It’s May 28, 1453, and Emperor Constantine XI (1405-1453) is having a bad day. A no good, very bad day.
(This is part one of two about the Fall of Constantinople in 1453)
Actually, it’s been a pretty bad couple of centuries for the Byzantine Empire. But today is particularly bad. For the past two months, 100,000 soldiers of the Ottoman Empire have laid siege to his city. You might have looked at your calendar and thought “what a day today” before, but you ain’t never had a bad day like this.
For the last millennium, Constantinople has been the greatest city in Europe. Known as the "Queen of Cities," it was its most advanced and sophisticated metropolis. Its main church, Hagia Sophia, was the largest building in Europe.
It had the largest population and wealth of trade. Its mighty walls, completed back in 439 AD by Emperor Theodosius II have seen many sieges over the centuries by Arabs, Bulgars, and Vikings, yet foiled them all. But would this time be different?
The Byzantines of Constantinople always called themselves “The Romans,” as their city was founded by Emperor Constantine in 324 as the New Rome. Constantinople was the capital of the whole empire for centuries, then when the western half slipped away, it solidly remained the capital of the Eastern Roman empire. It held on during many, many sieges over the centuries, remaining safe behind its walls, even as more and more territory slipped away outside them.
Constantinople was last sacked in 1204 during the Fourth Crusade. While the crusaders took the city, the walls were not defeated, because like in so many horror movies, the call was coming from within the house. The city and remnants of the empire were ruled by western Latin nobles for a couple of generations.
The Byzantines eventually booted them out, but the city’s wealth and importance were in the rearview mirror. The plague decimated the population in 1348. After that tragedy, the Ottomans conquered most of the lands of the Byzantine Empire both in the Balkans and in Asia Minor.
By 1453, its empire was pretty much just the city itself, an island surrounded by the growing Ottoman Empire. The emperor quipped that the city needed a mayor, not an emperor.
Constantine XI did everything he could to turn things around. He tried to marry several different European princesses to build an alliance, but nothing panned out. To gain papal support, he and his family accepted overlordship by the pope and became Catholics. This realignment infuriated both the citizens and the patriarch of Constantinople. One prominent statesman said:
“I would rather see the sultan’s turban in The City than the pope’s mitre!”
Oof. 400 years after the Great Schism, the east / west division in The Church was still a touchy subject.
The city’s population was down to maybe 50,000 people, somewhere between 1/10th or 1/20th of what it had been at its height. Constantinople never recovered from the plague, and now there were only ~7,000 soldiers to man the walls for defense.
Constantine XI had begged for reinforcements from all over Christendom, but few came. A charismatic leader from Genoa brought 700 men, but Constantine XI needed 10, 20, 50, 100 times that many to stand a chance.
Not seeing support coming from land or sea, the people of Constantinople looked to the heavens for help, but the omens were not promising. During the procession to call upon the Virgin Mary for aid, her sacred icon was dropped. A mighty thunderstorm brought with it portents of doom. The Hagia Sofia glowed red during a lunar eclipse.
There were rumors of a magic sword that would descend from heaven to defeat their foes, but no weapon appeared in the sky. Anyone with eyes could see that The City had been abandoned by The Almighty.
That day, looking out from the walls, Constantine XI didn’t yet know that this would be the last siege and he would be the last emperor, but that was in the cards. Early tomorrow morning, when the attackers finally broke through the walls, many of the city’s defenders would flee, trying to jump on any ship that might sail them outta there, but not Constantine XI. He would go down fighting.
Constantine XI had been a successful general before he was emperor, but now he stripped off all regalia, and became just another medieval soldier in the siege. His final words were,
“As my city falls, I will fall with her!”
Raising his sword above his head, he charged into the melee, never to be seen again. The last Roman emperor in Constantinople died a death fit for any tragic Greek hero.
Do you have to go down with the ship? There are always troubles in any business, but sometimes you can see that no matter how great this place once was, it ain’t never coming back. The macroeconomics changed, the business model shifted, the industry was disrupted. Whatever happened, it’s all crashing down.
What if you’re new here? You don’t know these people. No one even took you out to lunch on your first day, not even a group lunch in your first week. Your boss routinely cancels your 1-on-1s. This isn’t something you have to die for. Slip out the back, Jack, and find greener pastures, or at least a city that’s NOT on fire.
But if the place has been great to you, then grab your bow and quiver and fire your best shots from the wall. Fight for your city and your emperor! But once the invaders break through the walls, discretion might be the better part of valor. (Falstaff gets it.) Get thee to thine boats and live to fight another day.
And if you’re the founder of the company or if your parents left you with the family business, then yeah, you probably gotta stick it out until the end. Grab your sword and charge headlong into oblivion. Make all the emperors who came before you proud with your heroic last stand. Last one out, don’t forget to turn off the lights.
