the mythical.[1] Since the Balkan
Wars, King Constantine had been identified in the peasant mind with the
last Byzantine _Basileus_--his namesake, Constantine Palaeologus, slain
by the Turks in 1453; who, according to a widely believed legend, lay in
an enchanted sleep waiting for the hour when he should wake, break with
his sword the chains of slavery, and replant the cross {219} on the dome
of Saint Sophia. This singular fancy--whether a case of resurrection or
of reincarnation, is not clear--was strengthened by the fact that his
fall occurred on the very anniversary (29 May/11 June) of the day on
which that unfortunate Emperor fell in the ramparts of Constantinople.
The coincidence completed the association between the monarch who
sacrificed his life to save his people from subjection and the monarch
who, after leading his army in two victorious campaigns and doubling the
extent of his country, did not hesitate to sacrifice his crown to save
his people from disaster. Henceforth, even in minds not prone to
superstition, the two events were linked by the same date, the mourning
for the one rekindled the memory of the other, and King Constantine
acquired a new and imperishable title to the gratitude of the nation. If
all the efforts made in the past to blast his glory or to belittle his
services had only heightened his popularity, all the efforts made since
to blot out his image could only engrave it still deeper on the hearts of
the people. His very exile was interpreted, symbolically, as the
enchanted sleep whence he would arise to fulfil the ancient prophecies.

Mysticism apart, during the sad period preceding his departure, the
affection of the masses for their sovereign, intensified by compassion,
had assumed the quality of veneration. Now that he was gone, they
brooded over the wrongs which had driven him, a lawful and popular king,
into exile: wrongs which suffered for their sakes enhanced his claims on
their loyalty. They remembered wistfully the splendour of his victories,
his manly courage, his saintly patience, and perhaps most of all his
unfailing kindness to the humble and the weak. This was the quality
which drew men most strongly to Constantine, and the absence of which
repelled them most from M. Venizelos.[2] The experience of the last
three years had helped to emphasize the contrast: when the Eagle's Son
was up above, there were few vultures in the land; now there were
vultures only. So the na