Constantinople: A Sketch of its History from its Foundation to its Conquest by the Turks in 1453/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII.
THE COMNENANS.
HE events which closed with the fall of the last emperor nominated by a princess of the Macedonian dynasty were due to a remarkable change in the social relations of the empire. There had gradually arisen a rich territorial aristocracy—we have seen how rich was a single heiress of the Peloponnese—who lived much on their own estates, which they personally superintended, and where they were themselves seigneurs, like the great barons of Western Europe. And these nobles drifted perpetually more and more away from the crown. They saw how this prize fell not to any of their own equals, but to soldiers of fortune, servants, and favourites; and they saw the highest military commands entrusted to eunuchs of the imperial household. Of late the corruption of the court, the lamentable and ridiculous spectacle of Zoe marrying one husband after another, and the weakening of the central government, disgusted these lords to the point of forcing them into a conspiracy for an overthrow not only of the actual emperor but for the establishment of a new government, with a more definite order of succession. Certain disturbances, and the unpopularity of the old emperor, precipitated the movements of the conspirators. One battle only was fought, and Isaac Comnenus mounted the throne.
The House of Comnenus pretended, like most great Byzantine families, to be descended from a Roman stock. The first Comnenus who appears in history was Manuel, a favourite of the Emperor Basil II. He left two sons, Isaac and John: their family estates were on the Asiatic side.
During the administration of the Macedonians, and especially during the thirty years of confusion when Zoe and Theodora held the reins, the strength of the empire had steadily deteriorated. From many causes the capital was ceasing to be looked upon as the real centre of authority and administration. The roads, which once gave an easy means of communication, had been neglected or broken up; the census and great survey of the empire, which for eleven centuries had been carefully renewed every fifth year, so that there was always ready to hand full information on every province, was allowed to be dropped, perhaps from this very difficulty, the want of roads; the direction of public affairs had been transferred from the great families to the stewards of the imperial household, and these men gave the lower offices of the state to their own friends, so that the organisation of the departments was destroyed. There were no longer councils of state; there was only a cabinet of secretaries. Distant fortresses, harbours, and outposts were neglected, in order that the imperial household might be maintained in greater splendour; the pageants of palace, hippodrome, and church, became daily more magnificent; worse than all, the money, owing to the depopulation of the agricultural districts and the increased difficulty of finding mercenaries, had already entered on its rapid course of deterioration. These evils were too great to be remedied; yet Isaac Comnenus in his short reign of two years bravely attempted to meet and defeat them.
Immense sums had been lavished on favourites. Isaac resumed these grants. Immense sums had been given to monasteries, which were now what the monasteries of France became in the eighteenth century, homes where the cadets of rich families lived in ease and luxury. Isaac took all this money back and granted a pension to each monastery proportioned to the number of monks. Crowds of courtiers had received nominal rank in the army and drew real pay: Isaac deprived them all. In the midst of his reforms he was called away to defeat an invasion of Hungarians, and on his return, being seized with a dangerous illness, and believing himself to be dying, he named a successor and retired to a monastery.
Much of Isaac's good work was undone by the weakness and avarice of the man who succeeded him, Constantine X., of the family of Ducas. He allowed the mountainous country of Armenia to be overrun by the Turks, and by this folly opened the whole of Asia Minor to the Mohammedan arms and religion.
A great earthquake alarmed the East during this reign; walls of cities, public buildings, and churches were overthrown. Among the buildings was the ancient temple of Cyzicus, the columns of which were monoliths seventy-five feet high and twenty-five in circumference, and the ancient church of Nicæa, in which had been held the first general council of the Christian Church.
Constantine reigned for eight years. He left the guardianship of his three sons to Eudocia his wife, and exacted from her a written promise, which was deposited in the hands of the patriarch, that she would not marry again.
It was impossible for her to keep that promise. She coaxed the document out of the hands of the patriarch, pretending that she was about to marry his own nephew; and having got it back, she deceived him by naming as her husband one Romanus Diogenes, who, at least, enjoyed a reputation for valour and popularity with the army. He soon made himself unpopular in the capital by endeavouring to take up again the reforms of Isaac. He suppressed the extravagant displays of the court; tried to revive the discipline of the army; grudged the money spent in the circus and the shows; and restrained the peculations of his officers. Had he been fortunate in war he might have overridden the discontent caused by these measures; but of all brave soldiers, Romanus was the most unfortunate. He was betrayed by one of his generals, Andronicus Ducas, in what should have been a signal victory over the Seljouk Turks, he himself, after fighting like a hero, was wounded and taken prisoner. The emperor of the East was brought before the sultan and thrown upon the ground, while the victor placed his foot upon the neck of his prisoner. That was part of the bitterness of defeat. Yet Alp Arslan, the sultan of the Seljouks, did not retain his prisoner, but concluding a treaty of peace with him, let him go.
The news of his defeat and captivity produced at Constantinople exactly the same effects which the news of Sedan in 1870 produced at Paris. The empress had to fly to a monastery; the emperor was dethroned; John Ducas, the Cæsar, became the real sovereign in the name of young Michael, who was now proclaimed the ruling emperor. The unfortunate Romanus, attempting to fight his way back to his throne, was defeated, captured, and forced to resign. His safety was guaranteed, but no guarantee could prevent the Cæsar from wreaking his revenge upon his enemy by putting out his eyes. They left him without an attendant to dress his wounds, and the miserable man died in the greatest extremities of agony. Before death he collected what little money he could and sent it to his generous victor, Alp Arslan. "I am dethroned," he said, "and dependent upon others. I send you all that I have, as a proof of my gratitude."
At the same time the empire lost its last hold upon Italy when the four cities which still acknowledged the rule of Constantinople, Otranto, Tarentum, Brindisi, and Bari, were taken by Robert Guiscard.
The next few disgraceful years must be passed over rapidly. They present a dreary monotony of rebellion, murder, and defeat. Michael VII. spent his time in idle rhetorical exercises and writing iambics. The Turks extended their ravages to the very walls of Nicæa and Nicomedia. A minister, whose only principle was that of remaining in power, lavished on the court, on the courtiers, on the slaves, all the money that could be extorted from the diminished provinces of the empire. Famine and pestilence visited the cities. The Bulgarians resumed their independence. An Armenian, named Philaretos, claimed the title of emperor in Asia Minor, and was bought off with the safer dignity of Duke of Antioch. Alp Arslan consolidated his conquests in Asia by converting the agricultural serfs, who had hitherto cultivated the soil for the great landowners, into independent proprietors. The Cæsar, John Ducas, revolted, and called himself emperor. He was only put down by an alliance between Michael and the sultan of the Seljouks, and this alliance was naturally bought at a heavy price. Then two nobles simultaneously took up arms and usurped the imperial title. One of them, Nicephorus Bryennius, in Europe, raised an army of foreign mercenaries, with which he advanced to the walls of Constantinople, which he would easily have taken had it not been for his imprudence in allowing his troops to ravage the suburbs. This so exasperated the people, that Michael was enabled to force his retreat. The other, Nicephorus Botaneiates, obtained the assistance of the Seljoukians, was welcomed at Nicæa, and then received the welcome intelligence that Michael had been dethroned, and was now in a monastery, quietly writing more iambics, and no doubt much happier than when he was trembling on the throne. He was allowed to remain in peace, and even rose in the Church to be bishop of Ephesus.
The new emperor was now old: he was not, however, worthy on that or any other account of respect. He reigned for three years, leaving his generals to put down the rebellions which constantly threatened his throne, and living with his courtiers a life of shameful profligacy. Alexius Comnenus, the first general of the empire, was driven to revolt by discovering a conspiracy to deprive him of his command and to put out his eyes. He was joined by John Ducas, George Palæologus, and others. He found himself at the head of a numerous, if badly disciplined, army. He had the reputation of being the best among the soldiers; he was the nephew of that Isaac Comnenus whose reign was still remembered by the troops. He was proclaimed emperor, and he prepared to besiege the city.
The army of the rebel Alexius consisted of Slavonians, Bulgarians, and Greeks, in the service of the great families of Comnenus, Palæologus, and Ducas. The rebellion was in no sense national. The people, indeed, during this period of anarchy, were passive. The capital was defended by those trusty Varangians, who never failed in their fidelity to the reigning emperor, and by a legion called the Chomatian. On the Asiatic side was another rebel, Melissenos, with an army composed chiefly of Seljouk Turks. Could the old emperor have been persuaded to make terms with him, and nominate him his successor, the story of Alexius would have been as the story of Nicephorus Bryennius, or that of any other of the rebel pretenders. But he procrastinated.
Alexius saw that there was no hope of taking the city by storm, but treachery might help him. There was a captain of German mercenaries named Gilpracht, who held a tower in the Blachernian quarter, which commanded the Charsian gate. They found means of bribing him. At night George Palæologus was admitted into the gate, and his troops immediately took possession of the towers adjoining, and poured into the streets of Constantinople. Here the advantage was nearly lost as soon as gained, the soldiers dispersing themselves about the streets, plundering and murdering. Alexius was left with his partisans almost alone, and had the Varangians known, they could easily have seized the leaders and put an end to the revolt. But they did not know. Palæologus got possession of the fleet; the emperor abandoned his army, fled to the Church of St. Sophia, and offered to resign the crown. Alexius entered the palace, and, perhaps because he could not help it, gave up the city to sack. It is difficult to say whether the city suffered more at the hands of its own countrymen, so to speak, or at the hands of the Latins, when, a hundred years later, Dandolo gave up the city to the license of Frank and Flemish soldiers.
The character of Alexius I. has been drawn by the partial hand of his daughter. Her estimate has not been accepted by subsequent historians in the same admiring spirit. He brought to support a position of the greatest danger and difficulty a mind crafty beyond all precedent, a mind which rejoiced and gloried in dissimulation, a mind which habitually preferred tortuous to straight ways. We cannot follow him through the vicissitudes of his reign, which belong to the history of the empire rather than that of the city. He successfully escaped the great danger of that attack upon his capital which was meditated by Robert Guiscard in imitation of William the Conqueror's conquest of England. He broke the power, after many ineffectual efforts, of the barbarous Patzinaks, who invaded him from the north, and he carried on with varying success the never-ending war with the Turks. The prodigality and reckless expenditure of the court, the multiplication of offices, and the necessity of amusing the people with expensive shows, obliged him to disband the greater part of his army after every campaign, and to commence each new enterprise with newly levied troops. He debased the coinage; was conspicuous, even in a superstitious age, for his superstition; burned heretics, to the great joy of his subjects in the capital; alternately protected and repressed astrologers; invented new titles to secure the allegiance of his courtiers; and reigned a despotic monarch among a crowd of pensioned relatives, who stood near the throne but enjoyed no power.
To the citizens of the capital, the greatest event of the reign was, of course, the arrival of the Crusaders. It is a thrice-told tale. First came the multitudes of Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless, with swarms of women and children. Thousands of them had perished long before the expedition drew near Constantinople. But though only 7,000 reached the city with Peter, the numbers continually grew by the arrival of fresh bands, as helpless, as poor, and as wanting in discipline. They were despatched as quickly as possible across the Bosporus, where they were at once cut to pieces before Nicæa. But then came the great armies under Hugh de Vermandois, Robert Duke of Normandy, Robert Count of Flanders, Stephen Count of Blois, Godfrey of Bouillon, Bohemond, son of the dreaded Robert Guiscard, Tancred, and Raymond Count of Toulouse. These came prepared to march through the city as through a conquered state; to fight their way through, or to treat with the emperor. Alexius dissembled his fears, received them with friendship, witnessed without reproach their lamentable ignorance of the court ceremonials, listened to their incessant talk, which seemed strangely undignified to the slow and deliberate Byzantine, who spoke as if his words carried weight, and were not to be heedlessly uttered; and at last, after agreeing to supply the Crusaders with provisions at reasonable prices, to give them an auxiliary force, and to protect all pilgrims, had the satisfaction of seeing them depart across the narrow seas. Probably, from long experience with Asiatic deserts, Asiatic summers, and Mohammedan warriors, it appeared more than probable to the emperor that most of these gallant soldiers would never be able to come back again. This, indeed, proved the event. Of course, Alexius never carried out any portion of the treaty.
One is tempted to ask what the future of Constantinople might have been, had such a monarch as Romanus IV. or Basil II. been on the throne, and had the emperor, instead of distrusting and betraying, frankly joined his troops with those of the Franks, and taken his share in the recovery of the East, Asia Minor, and Armenia.
The successor of Alexius is described as possessing every virtue which becomes a Christian as well as a sovereign. He reigned five and twenty years. He made himself popular in his capital by his military successes. The people saw with satisfaction an increase in the imperial revenues, and therefore in their own material prosperity. He gave up his father's practice of disbanding his forces after each campaign, ceased to rely on the Byzantine militia, and trained his soldiers carefully as professional soldiers, not as volunteers or as militiamen. Naturally, therefore, his armies were composed entirely of foreign mercenaries, of Slavonians, Bulgarians, Patzinaks, Comans, and Turks. John, however, seems to have failed in turning his victories to the best advantage. Perhaps he despaired of improving the ruined roads, rebuilding the broken bridges, and reviving the desolate cities which everywhere mocked the magnificence of Constantinople: perhaps he found no time in the multiplicity of his campaigns. His sister, Anna Comnena, who with his mother conspired against him, did not write his life or exploits. Yet two historians have handed them down, and if we know little personally of this prince, we know enough to be assured that he had none of his father's duplicity, and relied on honest fighting for the defence of his state.
John was succeeded by his son Manuel, who possessed his father's headlong courage without his prudence. He was always, it is true, ready to fight, but he preferred a tournament to a battle, and lavished the treasure of the empire on the unbridled indulgence of every passion. But at the commencement of his reign Manuel was probably the tallest, the most handsome, and the strongest man in his own dominions. Never was seen so splendid a prince. He wore armour heavier than an ordinary man could lift; he carried a heavier spear and shield than even any Norman; he could tear a stirrup in two with his hands. As he had the strength, so he had the vices of the Latins, whose society he courted, and with whom he intermarried. He drank wine to excess, and spent a large part of his time in feasting. Yet he far surpassed the ignorant Westerns in learning; like all the Greeks, he could argue about theology; he interfered with the decisions of the synods; and understood the practice and science of surgery.
The following is an account of the city in the reign of Manuel, given by a contemporary traveller.
The circumference of the city of Constantinople is eighteen miles, one half of the city being bounded by the continent, the other by the sea, two arms of which meet here, the one a branch or outlet of the Russian, the other of the Spanish, sea. Great stir and bustle prevail at Constantinople, in consequence of the confluence of many merchants, who resort thither, both by land and by sea, from all parts of the world, for purposes of trade—merchants from Babylon and Mesopotamia, from Media and Persia, from Egypt and Palestine, as well as from Russia, Hungary, Lombardy, and Spain. In this respect the city is equalled only by Bagdad, the Mohammedan metropolis. At Constantinople is the place of worship called St. Sophia, the metropolitan seat of the pope of the Greeks, who are at variance with the pope of Rome. It (St. Sophia) contains as many altars as there are days in the year, and possesses countless riches, which are augmented every year by the contributions of the two islands and the towns and villages adjacent. All the other places of worship in the whole world do not equal St. Sophia in riches. It is ornamented with pillars of gold and silver, and with innumerable lamps of the same materials. The hippodrome is a public place near the wall of the palace, set aside for the royal sports. Every year the birthday of Jesus of Nazareth is celebrated there with public rejoicings. On these occasions there may be seen there representations of all the nations, with surprising feats of jugglery. Lions, bears, leopards, and wild asses, trained to fight, are also exhibited. All these sports, the equal of which can nowhere be seen, are carried on in the royal presence.
Manuel has built a large palace for his residence on the seashore, near that built by his predecessors, and to this edifice is given the name of Blachernes. The pillars and walls are covered with pure gold, and all the wars, the ancient as well as his own, are represented in paintings. The throne in this palace is of gold, ornamented with precious stones: a golden crown hangs over it, suspended by a chain of the same material, so as to admit the emperor to sit beneath it. This crown is ornamented with precious stones of inestimable value. The diamonds are of such lustre that they illumine the room. Other objects of curiosity are also here, the which it would be impossible to describe adequately. The tribute brought to Constantinople every year from all parts of Greece consists of silks, purple cloths, and gold, and it fills many treasuries. These buildings are equalled nowhere else in the world. It is computed that the tribute of the city alone amounts every day to twenty thousand florins, arising from hostelries and bazaars, and the duties paid by merchandise arriving by land and by sea. The Greeks who inhabit the country are exceedingly rich, possessing great wealth in gold and precious stones. They dress in garments of silk, ornamented with gold and other valuable decorations. They ride on horses, and appear like princes. The country is rich, producing all sorts of delicacies, as well as abundance of corn and meat and wine. The people are skilled in the Greek sciences, and live in comfort, every man "under his vine and under his fig-tree." They hire soldiers, whom they call barbarians, out of all nations, for their wars with the sultan of the Zogarmion, or Turks. They have no martial spirit themselves, but, like women, are unfit for warlike enterprises.[1]
The long reign (thirty-seven years) of Manuel, which terminated, however, in the emperor's death at the comparatively early age of fifty-eight, was chiefly occupied with wars and campaigns. Few of these have much to do with Constantinople itself, except in so far that to find money to satisfy the claims of his soldiers as well as the extravagant expenditure of the court, Manuel was compelled to have recourse to every kind of fiscal oppression and rapacity. And while the external policy of the emperor was guided by a desire to ensure safety and to gain renown, the internal was actuated solely by the necessity to maintain the imperial revenue. It was with this view that he made the treaties with Pisa and Genoa, which partly counteracted the effect of the concessions granted to Venice. It is a curious chapter in the history of Constantinople.
Partly in gratitude for their help in the Norman War, partly from some idea of policy, Alexius I. had conceded to the Venetians privileges which promised to place in their hands the principal trade of the capital. Certain merchants of Amalfi, when their city was taken by the Normans, went to Constantinople and formed a sort of colony there. Alexius compelled these Amalfi people to pay tribute to the Venetians; he gave them a whole street of warehouses; he exempted their merchandise from custom duties; and he permitted them to trade throughout the whole empire as far as Constantinople and the Black Sea. In other words, it would seem as if, for some purpose of his own, Alexius favoured the Venetians at the expense of his own subjects. But the interests of the emperor were rather those of the court than of the capital. The concessions to Venice were not altogether ruinous. The emperor excluded all foreign ships from the Black Sea; he retained the monopoly of the grain trade, and he exercised control over the rents of shops and warehouses. It may be that Alexius, who certainly would give nothing unless a more than fair equivalent was ensured him, saw in these concessions the introduction of greater enterprise, more activity, and a larger trade. Towards the end of his reign he concluded a commercial treaty with Pisa also. This was renewed by Manuel, who also made a treaty with Genoa. These treaties were doubtless designed to check the growing arrogance of the Venetians, who began to think themselves entitled to the whole of the trade of Constantinople. Manuel granted his allies the right of establishing a factory, erecting a quay, and building a church. He fixed a duty of four per cent, on all goods exported or imported; both Pisans and Genoese were excluded from the Black Sea; and in case of shipwreck, property and sailors were to be protected. The conclusion of new alliances was a wise and prudent step; other steps taken by Manuel were neither wise nor prudent. The islands had hitherto maintained their own fleets for the suppression of Saracenic pirates. The emperor ordered the money hitherto raised for this purpose to be paid into the imperial treasury, and undertook the maintenance of the fleet himself. When he had got the money, he allowed the ships to rot in harbour. Not content with ruining his navy, he proceeded to abandon the central system of army administration, by means of which his father had rendered the military force of the Eastern empire the strongest in the world. He distributed his troops in cities and provinces far apart, where they lost their discipline and their confidence. We need not attempt to follow this prince through a career full of strange vicissitudes. He fought with Raymond of Antioch, with Roger of Sicily, with the Venetians, with the Slavonian princes of Servia and Dalmatia, and with the Hungarians. He joined King Amaury of Jerusalem in his mad project to realise a Christian caliphate in Cairo. He was totally and shamefully defeated by the Turks at Myriokephalon, near Laodicea.
The great defect of his reign is that to which all despots and monarchies are especially liable. It was impossible for him personally to superintend everything. His servants were corrupt; the prodigality of his court, which he did not create, but inherited, was far beyond the resources of the empire; and Manuel was unable to see that by immediate and sweeping reforms alone could this great unwieldy structure, already tottering, be saved from failing.
Manuel's son, Alexius II., was only thirteen years of age when his father died. For the first two years of his reign the court was troubled by the perpetual intrigues of the cousins and relations of the emperor for the post of protosebastos. Nor were the intrigues confined only to the court. Factions were formed, and faction fights in the streets of the city brought with them their usual train of plunder and outrage. Looking about for a strong man, the Greeks could find no one but Andronicus, whom they invited to become prime minister, and who speedily made himself emperor.
The life of Andronicus has been drawn by every writer who has treated of the Eastern empire. In the whole of history there is no more romantic story of adventure, daring, danger, ambition, and strength. No Norman conqueror, no crusading hero, no Spanish invader, can show a more astonishing record. It may be found detailed at length in Finlay, Gibbon, and Le Beau. An abridgment of his story may be given here. He was the son of Isaac Comnenus, and the grandson of Alexius I. Like most of his race, he was tall, strong, and athletic; his personal habits were temperate; he was dexterous in arms; he was persuasive and eloquent; he owned no restraint of principle, though he was ready with quotations on occasion from St. Paul; his bravery and skill recommended him to Manuel, his cousin, whose vices as well as his courage Andronicus shared. While the emperor scandalised the Church by his connection with Theodora, his niece, Andronicus openly carried about with him Eudocia, her sister. She shared his campaigns, and the hard fighting of the day was followed by feasting and singing at night. Early In Manuel's reign Andronicus was taken prisoner by the Turks, and taken to the court of Sultan Massoud, where he learned the Turkish language, and showed no unwillingness to cast in his lot with his captors. His brother, indeed, who had become a Mohammedan, was already at the court.
On his return he was twice entrusted with the command of the army in Cilicia, and twice defeated. Subsequently he was appointed governor of the two principal fortresses on the Hungarian frontier, and again he brought disaster upon the empire. Then Manuel ceased to employ him. He returned to Constantinople, and lived aloof from the court, with Eudocia, and a crowd of actresses and dancing-girls. After a time he was suspected of a treasonable correspondence with the sultan of Iconium and the king of Hungary. There can be small doubt that he had read the annals of his country, and knew that an emperor might be dethroned. But this emperor was too strong. He might, however, be assassinated. Andronicus presented himself at an imperial hunting party, uninvited, with a numerous train of armed followers. The emperor's escort was too strong for open violence; but he was watched, and during the night Andronicus was found lurking near the emperor's tent, disguised as a Latin soldier, and armed with a dagger.
He was thrown into prison, where he remained in solitary confinement for nine years. At the end of this time he discovered some secret recess in the tower, the entrance to which he found means to close after he himself should be within it, so that it could not be suspected. Then he saved up provisions, got into his cell, and shut himself in. The prisoner had escaped. There was no apparent way out of the tower; the guards had seen no one escaping; it was impossible to find any trace of him in the neighbourhood. But he was gone. They suspected everybody, his wife among them, and they carried their suspicion so far as to lock her up in what had been her husband's cell. This was not exactly what Andronicus wanted. Probably he looked for a relaxation of the guard, or their withdrawal, now that the bird had escaped. However, things might have been worse. There was now no chance of starving, at least. In the night his wife was awakened by the spectre, as she thought, of her husband. He told her all, and after a short period, during which she managed to save food for him, the guard became neglectful, and an opportunity was found for escape.
He was caught, however, and again taken to prison, where he was loaded with chains. A second time he escaped, being able to get a model of the keys in wax, and being provided by his son Manuel with a coil of rope and new keys, conveyed to him in an amphora of wine. Again he was caught, and again by a dexterous pretence he managed to escape. This time he found himself at the court of Yaroslef, prince of Russian Galicia. Manuel was persuaded to grant him a full pardon, and he returned to the capital. He was again entrusted with the chief command in Cilicia, and he disgraced himself by another defeat. After this he thought it prudent to seek refuge in Antioch, where Raymond received him, and where he fell in love with Philippa, sister of the empress Maria. One supposes that his first wife was dead, because Philippa consented to marry him. He would not remain long in Antioch, however, lest Manuel should order his arrest. He fled to Jerusalem, and finding shelter there, showed his gratitude by falling in love with Theodora, the widow of Baldwin III., who returned his passion with equal ardour. She was thus the third princess who fell a victim to this Byzantine Don Giovanni. And when Manuel offered large rewards to any Syrian noble who should arrest Andronicus and put out his eyes, it was Theodora who warned him of the danger, and consented to take refuge with him among the Turks. A very curious chapter might be written on the renegades of the Eastern empire as well as on those of Spain. The Mohammedan service, indeed, has always attracted a certain class of adventurer. Its prizes, great and splendid, have always been open to the ready eye, the strong hand, and the quick brain; its religion is tolerant in practice if not in theory; its customs offer an apparent freedom from those bonds of morality which fetter and fatigue the piratic mind. As for Andronicus, he came of a family of renegades. With Theodora he wandered about for a time in Mesopotamia and Iberia, till he had collected a small army of refugees and Turkish mercenaries, with which, because every free and independent soldier must have money, he began to harass the frontier and capture live stock among the Christians for the slave market. He held strong forts among the mountains, to which he would retire one after the other, eluding pursuit like another Rob Roy. Nor was it until Theodora was taken prisoner that he opened negotiations with the emperor. He succeeded in gaining permission to be brought before him. Probably the permission contained a promise of freedom and forgiveness. This act was the greatest of all Manuel's mistakes. It should have been war to the knife with one so desperate and so dangerous.
Andronicus was an excellent actor. On being brought before the emperor he opened his cloak, and showed a heavy iron chain fastened to a collar round his neck. He burst into tears, quoted Scripture, and implored the pardon of his offended emperor. The pardon was promised, but that was not enough. He insisted that some one should drag him by the neck to the emperor's footstool. This kind action was performed for him by his cousin Isaac Angelus. Afterwards, when Isaac mounted the throne, the thing was remembered.
We have seen that he was chosen protosebastos. We have already stated that he murdered Alexius II. and made himself emperor. That was to be expected.
Once on the throne, the monster showed his real character again. He murdered some among the aristocracy for their wealth and influence, and put out the eyes of others—those who had helped him to his throne. Some who revolted, he punished with the greatest cruelties; and even while he made a bid for popularity by lightening the burden of taxation, he became hateful by neglecting and diminishing the public amusements.
Hated on all sides, the old man, now seventy years of age, began to be tormented by fears and anxieties. The astrologers told him that he would lose his kingdom by a man whose name began with the letter I, so that when one Isaac, who assumed the name of Comnenus, revolted and took possession of Cyprus, he thought of the prediction and awaited the end.
It was not, however, that Isaac who was to accomplish the prophecy. Among the kinsfolk of the imperial dynasty was one Isaac Angelus, a weak, harmless, and incapable man, who had hitherto excited no suspicion. It was determined, however, to arrest him, though the emperor had so low an opinion of his capacity that he refused to sign the order. The minister Agiochristophorites undertook the responsibility, and went in person to make the arrest. When Isaac heard that he was in the court of the palace, his natural cowardice turned to the fury of despair; he rushed upon the minister with his drawn sword, slew him on the spot, and sought sanctuary in the Church of St. Sophia. There his friends joined him; hither the people flocked with cries, and against his will Isaac found himself crowned.
Andronicus tried to escape, but they caught him and brought him back to the city, and before the new emperor. One loses pity for the subsequent misfortunes of Isaac when we read how he ordered one eye to be put out, one hand to be struck off, thrust him into a dungeon without food or attendance, and finally abandoned him to the brutalities of the people, who for two days subjected him to tortures which may be read in the contemporary histories, but are best not set forth in detail. For two days the wretched man thus expiated his sins, bearing his torments with fortitude, and only groaning at intervals, "Bruise not a broken reed." At last two Latin soldiers, more humane than the Greeks, drove their swords into his heart, and ended the long life of a man who was the most remarkable outcome of the time; such a man as is only produced when the greatest courage and the finest physique belong to one who has ambition, want of principle, and strength of will, and when that man is born, like Andronicus, in a time of universal and profound corruption.
The downward course of the empire was not likely to be arrested by the accession of such a man as Isaac Angelus. Amid the anarchy, the confusion, the bribery, the impotent rage of the people, which lasted during the ten years of his feeble rule, the Vallachians established themselves on an independent footing in Thessaly. The general sent to defeat them was driven back, and in despair of conquering the barbarians, himself assumed the title of emperor and laid siege to the capital. Isaac and the city were saved by the accidental presence of Conrad of Montferrat. He told the emperor that priests and processions were very well in proper time and place, but that the present emergency demanded men; and putting himself at the head of two hundred and fifty valiant knights, with five hundred veterans, and such other forces as could be raised, he took the field and defeated the rebels. The victory brought very little benefit to the people of Constantinople, because the troops took advantage of the general rejoicing to pillage the town. Isaac was deposed, and his eyes put out by his elder brother Alexius. His son, afterwards Alexius IV., escaped.
Except that he was more treacherous, Alexius III. proved no better than Isaac II. His wife Euphrosyne conducted the business of the administration, if the sale of places, the receiving of bribes, and the farming of revenues on ruinous terms, can be called by that name. Thrace was left in the hands of the Vallachians; the admiral of the fleet sold without concealment the stores of the navy; the seas were crowded with pirates; even the emperor condescended to become a pirate, and sent six vessels into the Euxine, with private instructions to pick up what they could. Rich men were seized by parties of courtiers, and held captive until they had paid ransom. The patriarch refused to interfere; at last the people assembled before his palace and threatened to throw him out of the windows; the Venetians and Pisans fought battles in the streets; the Turks were shamefully bought off; the Bulgarians and Sclavonians were in arms; and the empire, despite the splendour and magnificence of the court, seemed on the point of falling to pieces.
The conquest of Constantinople by the Flemings and Venetians finished at a blow what the bad rule of the Comnenans was destroying rapidly and surely.
- ↑ Benjamin of Tudela.