Chapter 42

 

Rome, March 451

 

BISHOP LEO OPENED HIS LETTER from the Eastern Augusta:

 

To Our Most Holy Father Leo, Bishop of Rome,

 

We received your epistle with the reverence owed to every bishop. I and my lord, the Most Tranquil Emperor, my Consort, always have and do remain in the same faith, spurning all depravity, all pollution, and all evil. I am pleased to report that Anatolius, the Bishop of Constantinople, installed by violence to replace our Beloved Flavian, has willingly given up his heresies and subscribed to the orthodox Formula of Union you stated in your Tome. By orders of the Emperor, the remains of Flavian are returned to Constantinople and deposited in their rightful place in the Apostles Church. All bishops exiled for supporting Flavian are to return by force of an imperial pragmatic to await judgment of a new general council restoring them to their Sees.

The Emperor intends to convene this council in Nicaea on September 1 of this year to complete the work begun there by the venerable council of the Great Constantine. I beg you to instruct the Oriental bishops to gather for that council so that we may bring peace to our people and understanding to the bishops.

 

Your Most Loving and Obedient Daughter

Aelia Pulcheria Augusta

 

“Ha! I knew Pulcheria could bring those unruly bishops to heel!” Leo’s smile faded as he read of the council. “There is no need for another council. Father Joseph—” His clerk looked up from recording expenses from his bishop’s last progress. “Come take a letter.”

“Of course, Your Holiness.” The stoop-shouldered priest brought over his lap desk and writing supplies.

Leo put Pulcheria’s letter aside and dictated:

 

To my Most Holy Daughter, Aelia Pulcheria Augusta,

 

I give thanks to God when I see how you commit yourself to every concern of the Universal Church, so that whatever I think might contribute to justice and goodwill I confidently suggest to you, expecting that with Christ’s help what has been accomplished faultlessly thus far through the zeal of Your Piety might be brought more swiftly to a welcome conclusion, most glorious Augusta.

To that point, I believe another council would be difficult to arrange, owing to the invasion of the Huns. The trouble lies principally with Dioscorus of Alexandria and Juvenal of Jerusalem and can easily be settled without a council. The orthodox position is clearly written in my Tome, copies of which have been distributed throughout the realm. It remains only to enforce that position among the bishops in the East. I trust that Your Piety will labor, as is habitual for you, so that the heretical doctrine of Eutyches will be suppressed, and all bishops, like Anatolius, will be returned to the right path of the orthodox church.

 

Your Friend and Father in the Church

Leo, Bishop of Rome

 

“That should put the problem to rest.” Leo dismissed his clerk and turned back to his own untidy worktable. “Now, where did I put that report on the Huns?”

 

*****

 

Imperial Palace, April 451

 

PULCHERIA FROWNED as she read Leo’s letter. She couldn’t blame the Pope for his position. All of Italy and Gaul braced for the Hunnic invasion, not knowing which path the barbarians would take. Attila still insisted the western emperor “prepare a palace to receive him” after he claimed Princess Honoria as his bride. Drat the girl! She caused as much death and turmoil as the legendary Helen of Troy. Although, if pressed, Pulcheria would admit Honoria’s letter was just an excuse for Attila to do what he planned anyway. She and Marcian had stopped payments to Attila and braced for the onslaught if he turned East rather than West.

She looked across the room to where Marcian studied his maps. She would miss him when he joined his troops to make sure Attila did not turn his attention their way. Little good it would do the pagan king if he invaded the East! He still could not breach their walls, and the lands west and south lay devasted from his last sortie. Attila’s most logical move was toward Italy or Gaul, where General Aetius awaited him, but her husband wanted to be in the field, just in case.

Husband! Still such a strange word for her. Over the past five months, Marcian proved as good as his word. He took her lead in all things dealing with the Church and governance, and she took his in all things military. They made good partners. Of course, her enemies started nasty rumors that she gave up her chastity in the marriage—to undermine the power she received from being a pledged virgin. Her agents spread throughout the city, painting over obscene graffiti and countering any scurrilous talk with logic or threats, as the case called for.

“Bad news, Ria?” Marcian looked up from his maps and noticed her frown.

Her husband had proved attuned to her moods and attentive to her needs, whether that be for quiet thought or a receptive ear. His question brought her back to the issue at hand. “Leo feels his position on the dual nature of Christ, as put forward in his Tome, is enough to restore the bishops to their sees, and no council is needed.”

“Isn’t he right?”

“In a way.” Pulcheria put the letter down. “We could declare our support for his position and send generals to enforce it as my brother did in Antioch, but that will not end the matter—even if we had generals to spare. It didn’t work then and won’t work now. Putting a bandage over an infected wound does not heal it. The infection spreads; eventually you lose the limb, if not the whole body. We must bring the bishops together and cauterize this wound in the church.”

“Over the Pope’s objections?”

“He does not know the Eastern Church. I do. I’ve done what I can to persuade Bishop Leo of this necessity. He will not listen. We must act without him. I will encourage him to send legates. After all, we are doing his work.”

“What if the bishops decide differently than what you want?”

“That is what Bishop Leo fears, but there will be no repeat of Ephesus. I’ll see to that.” Pulcheria felt her pulse elevate at the challenge. “God will give me the strength to bring these bishops back to orthodoxy. I’ll have the letter commanding the council for you to sign tomorrow.”

 

*****

 

Imperial Palace, July 451

 

PULCHERIA SURVEYED HER TROOPS for the upcoming battle: Aspar, the praetorian prefect of the East, the city prefect, her master of offices, and fifteen more of the most prominent men in eastern Roman society. She gave them their marching orders.

“My imperial husband and consort is called to the front to deal with the cursed Huns. He labors to protect our lands, goods, and bodies from the ravishing barbarians. He leaves us with the sacred duty to protect our souls and that of our people. For three years now, the church is divided, our people confused. Councils summoned and discredited, bishops unseated and restored, violence committed against holy men. This must stop!”

She stood, pounding a fist on the table to emphasize her point, eyes moving from man to man, looking for weakness. They nodded, responding with solemn gazes. Satisfied, she again sat.

“Emperor Marcian has called a council of bishops to review these actions and produce a definitive statement on the nature of Christ. You all know the imperial position. Christ possessed two natures, one human and one divine. As God, he suffered for our sins; as man, he shows us the way to perfectibility. Pope Leo of Rome lays out these arguments in his Tome. You all have copies and will study them before the council.”

A scribe passed out copies of the Pope’s missive. They riffled through the pages.

The prefect of Bithynia spoke. “Augusta, I’m sorry to report that Bishop Dioscorus of Alexandria plans to disrupt the council at Nicaea and has already begun agitation.”

“That is why you are all here, Prefect.” Pulcheria had learned much from the disaster at Ephesus and planned every detail of this council. “We are moving the date and place of the council so the emperor may attend the closing ceremonies. We’ll now convene in early October in the city of Chalcedon. This location, directly across the strait from our city, has an additional advantage. We will have access to the General’s troops and the city prefect’s guards to keep order.” She turned to the city prefect. “You will eject from the meeting and city all clerics, monks, and lay persons who have no reason to be at the council. Be sure no other troublemakers show up before, during, or after I and the Augustus arrive to conclude the gathering.”

She gave him a particularly hard stare. “If anything disrupts this council or impedes its business, you will be held personally responsible by me. Is that understood?”

“Quite, Your Serenity.” The prefect looked slightly pale, but calm.

“The rest of you will preside over the council, present the order of business as I have outlined, and call the questions.”

“Where will the new council meet in Chalcedon?” Aspar asked.

“In the Basilica of St. Euphemia. It has space to hold six hundred.” Pulcheria did not add that she trusted the spirit of the beloved and powerful female saint—a victim of Emperor Diocletian’s persecution—to protect the council and guide it to the desired result.

“Any other questions?” She looked around the table. “Good. I expect you all to be in attendance for as long as it takes to achieve the outcomes we’ve discussed . You’ll receive further instructions as needed.”

Pulcheria stood. They rose and bowed in unison.

 

*****

 

DURING OCTOBER, Pulcheria read the daily reports of the council proceedings with more and more satisfaction. The council confirmed and wrote into canon the Chalcedonian Definition that “Christ was established as the possessor of one person with two natures, united unconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly and inseparable: perfect God and perfect man.”

They deposed the heretics and restored the orthodox to their positions. Bishop Anatolius even went so far as to elevate the See of Constantinople to the first rank of episcopacy, putting it on a par with Rome—over the objections of Pope Leo’s legates. A bold move on his part, but Pulcheria felt it warranted. Rome fell once, when she was a child, and the barbarians took her Aunt Placidia hostage. General Aetius had barely fought Attila to a draw in Gaul, with huge losses on both sides. Attila retreated, but for how long? Rome could fall again, leaving the East the sole bastion of Christianity.

The most gratifying part of the reports came in the recording of the bishops’ acclamations throughout the proceedings. On two occasions they broke tradition and praised her before Marcian: “The Augusta cast out Nestorius! Many years to the orthodox one! The Augusta believes thus! Thus we all believe!”

I’ve spent my life breaking traditions, she thought, and I have one more to break.

 

*****

 

Chalcedon, October 25, 451

 

PULCHERIA TOOK A MOMENT TO SAVOR HER VICTORY. She stood, hand lightly touching the arm of her consort, both attired in imperial splendor, before the entrance to St. Euphemia’s basilica. Acclamations had already started inside, echoing down the street. No other Augusta had come before such a deliberative body as this ecumenical council, but she would not be denied her due. The healing of the Church was her doing and the people recognized it.

“Many years to the Augusta!” they cried. “There will be peace everywhere! Lord protect those who bring the light of peace, those who lighten the world!”

Marcian smiled at her. “General Aetius may have stopped the Huns, but you have done more for your people than any mere general. You give them peace and hope.”

They stepped into the church to shouts: “Marcian is the New Constantine. Pulcheria the New Helena. Her life is the security of all. Her faith is the glory of the church!”

Her people loved her. The nobles did her bidding. The church was restored to orthodoxy. Her heart warred between pride and humility at this, her greatest achievement.

This I have wrought.

With God’s help.