Porphyry and Blood

by Peter Sandham

  The real Mara Brankovic was undoubtedly not as powerful or independent as the character presented here but she was still highly influential by the standards of her time. The story she tells Anna about being offered the chance to become Constantine’s empress in 1451 is true. She was too politically attuned to accept it. Mehmed was said to trust her judgement implicitly. Her elevation to Valide Hatun despite no blood link to the sultan was unprecedented as was being allowed to live outside the imperial harem, sometimes in Constantinople, sometimes at her private estates in Serbia and near Mount Athos. She retained her Christian faith throughout her life and not in a clandestine fashion. She involved herself overtly in the politics of the Church of Constantinople, sponsored the rebuilding of Bulgaria’s Rila monastery, intervened directly to prevent the desecration of Mount Athos and repatriated several holy relics to Italy. Her activities extended into the diplomatic realm as well. During the long war between Venice and the Turks she acted as a line of communication between the warring empires and when peace discussions were briefly attempted in 1470, they were largely brokered by Mara.

  If Vlad Dracula is the national folk hero of Romania, Erasmus Lueger (Erazem Predjamski) is similarly feted in his native Slovenia. Far less bloodthirsty than the impaler, Lueger’s story is closer in tone to Robin Hood. From his incredible castle, built into a cliff like a medieval Bond villain’s lair, he preyed upon rich Austrian merchant caravans. But if his life was worthy of an Errol Flynn movie, his end was rather less glamorous. Poor Lueger was killed by a cannon ball while sat on the toilet. Besieged by the Austrians, he was betrayed by a servant who signalled the enemy gunners when Lueger ventured from his cliffside bunker to a vulnerable outhouse.

  Almost every other character in the book is based on biographical histories of real people. Hekim Yakub really was an Italian-born Jewish physician to both Murad and Mehmed. Niccolo Sagundino was a Venetian diplomat who wrote a lurid history of the Turks while living in Constantinople and lost his family in a shipwreck. Captain Spandounes was one of many Greek-born mercenaries in Venice’s employ at that time and he did marry Eudokia, who was the niece of Anna Notaras. Poor Michael Szilágyi really was sawn in half before a crown in 1460 and the diary of Florentine merchant spy Bernadeto Dei nervously tell of his discussions with the sultan on hypothetical invasions of Italy. Even the character of the Crocodile pays homage to Krokodeilos Kladas, a Klepht resistance fighter in the Mani during the 1470s.

  Of course, I have filled in gaps to suit my narrative ends and none more so than for Anna. As readers of Porphyry and Ash will know, she was a real survivor of Constantinople’s fall. At the time of Vlad Dracula’s night raid, the historical Anna was living a wealthy exile in Venice with her sister Helena, trying to aid where she could the many other Byzantine refugees. Throughout her life she continued to petition the Senate for a Greek Church in Venice. In 1475 they allowed her to build a chapel within her own house - the first Greek Orthodox altar in Venice and possibly in all of Italy. Anna opened her doors to allow the entire Greek community to use it and went on petitioning the senate for a proper church well into her dotage. Eventually, in 1498, they agreed to the founding of the Scuola de San Nicolo dei Greci with its own church, San Giorgio dei Greci (and maybe a lace school). Although Anna died in 1507 before the church was completed, modern visitors to San Giorgio can still admire the three ikons she gifted to it in her will.

  Anna’s plans extended beyond churches. She tried to establish an autonomous Byzantine commune and in 1472 things got as far as the drafting of legal document for leased land from Siena. These survive to this day. Intriguingly Anna is presented in the document as Anna Notaras Palaiologina - from which the legend that she had been married to Constantine may well stem. There is no reason to believe Anna married the last emperor, but it may be that she allowed the old men of Siena to think that to advance her cause.