History of the Byzantine empire

A.A. Vasiliev

Table of Contents -

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1.The study of Byzantine history.

2. The empire from Constantine the Great to Justinian

Constantine and Christianity

Arianism and the Council of Nicaea

The Church and the state at the end of the fourth century

Theological disputes and the Third Ecumenical Council

The Fourth Ecumenical Council

3. Justinian the Great and his successors (518-610)

Justin I.

The Reign of Justinian and Theodora.

The external policy of Justinian and his ideology.

Wars with the Vandals, Ostrogoths, and Visigoths.

The legislative work of Justinian and Tribonian.

The ecclesiastical policy of Justinian.

Religious problems and the Fifth Ecumenical Council

The internal policy of Justinian.

Commerce during the reign of Justinian.

Immediate successors of Justinian.

The Persian wars.

Slavs and Avars.

Religious problems.

Formation of the exarchates and the revolution of 610.

The problem of the Slavs in Greece.

Literature, learning, and art.

4. The Heraclian epoch (610-717)

External Problems

Religious Policy of the dynasty

The Sixth Ecumenical Council and religious peace.

Origin and development of Theme Organization

5. The Iconoclastic epoch (717-867)

The Isaurian or Syrian Dynasty.

The attitude toward Arabs, Bulgarians, and Slavs.

The internal activities of the emperors of the Isaurian dynasty.

Religious controversies and the first period of Iconoclasm.

The Council of 754 and its aftermath.

Charles the Great and his significance for the Byzantine Empire.

Summary of the activities of the Isaurian dynasty.

Successors of the Isaurians and the Phrygian Dynasty (820-67)

6. The Macedonian epoch (867-1081)

The origin of the dynasty.

External affairs of the Macedonian emperors.

Relations of the Byzantine Empire with the Bulgarians and Magyars.

The Byzantine Empire and Russia.

The Patzinak problem.

Relations with Italy and western Europe.

Social and political developments

The time of troubles (1056-81)

7. Byzantium and the Crusades

The Comneni emperors and their foreign policy

Foreign policy of the Angeli

The Fourth Crusade and Byzantium

Internal affairs under the Comneni and Angeli.

8. The Empire of Nicaea (1204-61)

New states formed on Byzantine terrirory.

Beginnings of the Empire of Nicaea and the Lascarids.

Foreign policy of the Lascarids and the restoration of the Byzantine empire.

The Seljuq Turks.

The Latin Empire.

John III Ducas Vatatzes (1222-1254).

The Despotat of Epirus and its relation to the Empire of Nicaea.

Thessalonica and Nicaea.

The role of Bulgaria in the Christian East under Tsar John Asen II.

Alliance of John Vatatzes and Frederick II Hohenstaufen.

The Mongol invasion and the alliance against the Mongols.

Significance of the external policy of John Vatatzes.

Theodore and John Lascaris and the restoration of the Byzantine Empire.

Ecclesiastical relations with the Nicene and Latin empires.

Social and economic conditions in the empire of nicaea.

Education, learning, literature, and art.

Byzantine feudalism.

9. The fall of Byzantium

Foreign policy of the Paleologi.

General situation in the Empire.

The external policy of Michael VIII.

The external policy of Byzantium during the reigns of the Andronicoi.

John V, John VI Cantacuzene and the apogee of Serbian power.

The policies of Byzantium in the fourteenth century.

Manuel II (1391-1425) and the Turks.

John VIII (1425-48) and the Turkish menace.

Constantine XI (1449-53) and the capture of Constantinople.

Ecclesiastical problems under the Palaeologi.

The Union of Lyons.

The Arsenites.

The Hesychast movement.

The conversion to Catholicism of Emperor John V.

The Union of Florence.

The question of the Council of St. Sophia.

Political and social conditions in the Empire.

Learning, literature, science, and art

Byzantium and the Italian Renaissance.

Appendix

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1.The study of Byzantine history.

2. The empire from Constantine the Great to Justinian

Constantine and Christianity

The cultural and religious crisis through which the Roman Empire was passing in the fourth century is one of the most significant events in the history of the world. The old pagan culture came into collision with Christianity, which received official recognition during the reign of Constantine at the beginning of the fourth century and was declared the dominant State religion by Theodosius the Great at the end of that same century. It might have seemed at first that these two clashing elements, representing two diametrically opposed points of view, would never find a basis for mutual agreement. But Christianity and pagan Hellenism did intermix gradually to form a Christian-Greco-Eastern culture subsequently known as Byzantine. Its center was the new capital of the Roman Empire, Constantinople.

The person who was chiefly responsible for the many changes in the empire was Constantine the Great. During his reign Christianity stepped for the first time on the firm ground of official recognition. From this time forward the old pagan empire gradually changed into a Christian empire.

The conversion of nations or states to Christianity has usually taken place during the early stage of their historical existence when the past has created no firmly established traditions, but merely some crude and primitive customs and forms of government. In such cases the conversion has caused no great crisis in the life of the people. But this was not characteristic of the Roman Empire in the fourth century. It already possessed an old world culture and had developed forms of government perfect for that time. It had a great past and an extensive body of ideas which had been assimilated by the population. This empire, changing in the fourth century into a Christian state, entered upon an era during which its past was contradicted, at times completely denied; this was bound to lead to an extremely acute and difficult crisis.

Apparently the old pagan world, at least in the domain of religion, no longer satisfied national wants. New needs and new desires appeared, which only Christianity could satisfy.

When a moment of unusual importance is associated with some historical

personage who happens to play a leading part in it, a whole literature about him is created which aims to evaluate his significance for the given period and attempts to penetrate into the innermost regions of his spiritual life. For the fourth century this important personage was Constantine the Great.

Constantine was born at the city of Naissus (Nish at present). On the side of his father, Constantius Chlorus, Constantine belonged probably to an Illyrian family. His mother, Helena, was a Christian who later became St. Helena. She made a pilgrimage to Palestine where, according to tradition, she found the true cross on which Christ was crucified.[1] In 305, after Diocletian and Maximian had renounced their imperial rank according to the established agreement and had retired into private life, Galerius became the Augustus in the East, and Constantius, father of Constantine, assumed the title of Augustus in the West. In the following year Constantius died in Britain, and his legions proclaimed his son Constantine Augustus. At this time a revolt broke out in Rome. The mutinous population and the army rejected Galerius and proclaimed as emperor Maxentius, the son of the Maximian who had resigned his imperial power. The aged Maximian joined his son and again assumed the imperial title. A period of civil war followed, during which both Maximian and Galerius died. Constantine then formed an alliance with one of the new Augusti, Licinius, and defeated Maxentius in a decisive battle near Rome in 312. Maxentius was drowned in the Tiber while trying to flee from the enemy (at Saxa Rubra near the Milvian bridge across the Tiber). The two victorious emperors, Constantine and Licinius, met at Milan where, according to historical tradition, they proclaimed the famous Edict of Milan. The peaceful relations between the two emperors did not last very long, however. A struggle soon broke out between them, which ended in a complete victory for Constantine. Licinius was killed in 324 AD, and Constantine became the sole ruler of the Roman Empire.

The two main events of Constantine’s reign which were of paramount

significance for the subsequent course of history were the official recognition of Christianity and the transfer of the capital from the shores of the Tiber to the shores of the Bosphorus, from ancient Rome to Constantinople, the “New Rome.” In studying the position of Christianity in Constantine’s time scholars have considered two problems in particular: the “conversion” of Constantine and the Edict of Milan.[1a]

The conversion of Constantine

Historians and theologians have been primarily interested in the causes of Constantine’s “conversion.” Why did Constantine favor Christianity? Should his attitude be viewed only as an indication of his political wisdom? Did he see in Christianity merely a means of gaining his political aims? Or did he adopt Christianity because of his own inner conviction? Or, finally, was this “conversion” influenced by both political motives and a spiritual leaning toward Christianity?

The main difficulty in solving this problem lies in the contradictory information found in the sources. Constantine as depicted by the Christian bishop Eusebius does not in the least resemble Constantine created by the pen of the pagan writer Zosimus.

Historians have found ample opportunity for answering this entangled question according to their own preconceived opinions. The French historian Boissier wrote in his Fall of Paganism:

Unfortunately, when we deal with great people who play a leading part in history and try to study their lives and account for their actions, we are seldom satisfied with the most natural explanations. Since these men have the reputation of unusual people, we never want to believe that they acted just like other ordinary people. We search for hidden reasons behind their simplest actions; we attribute to them subtle considerations, depth of thought and perfidies of which they never dreamed. All this is true in the case of Constantine. A preconceived conviction became current, that this skilful politician wanted to fool us; the more fervently he devoted himself to religious affairs and declared himself a true believer, the more definite were our attempts to prove that he was indifferent to these matters, that he was a skeptic, who in reality was not concerned about any religion and preferred that religion which could benefit him most.[2]

For a long time historical opinion was influenced greatly by the skeptical judgment of the well-known German historian, Jacob Burckhardt, expressed in his brilliant work, The Time of Constantine the Great. He represents Constantine as a statesman of genius, seized by high ambitions and a strong desire for power, a man who sacrificed everything to the fulfillment of his worldly aims. “Attempts are often made,” wrote Burckhardt, “to penetrate into the religious conscience of Constantine and then draw a picture of the changes which presumably took place in his religious beliefs. All this is done in vain. For in the case of this man of genius, whose ambitions and thirst for power troubled every hour of his life, there could be no question of Christianity and paganism, of a conscious religiousness or non-religiousness; such a man is essentially irreligious [unreligiös] … If he had stopped even for a moment to consider his real religious consciousness it would have been fatal.” This “deadly egotist,” having recognized that Christianity was bound to become a world force, made use of it precisely from that point of view. In this recognition, according to Burckhardt, lies Constantine’s great merit. Yet Constantine gave very definite privileges to paganism as well as to Christianity. To look for any system in the actions of this inconsistent man would be all in vain; there was only chance. Constantine, “an egotist in a purple mantle, does and permits all that will increase his personal power.” Burckhardt used as his main source Eusebius’ Life of Constantine, disregarding the fact that this work is not authentic.[3] The judgment of Burckhardt, given briefly here, makes no allowance for any genuine religious feeling on the part of the Emperor.

Basing his arguments on different grounds, the German theologian Adolph

Harnack, in The Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries,[4] arrived at similar conclusions. After a study of the status of Christianity in individual provinces of the empire he admitted the impossibility of determining the exact number of Christians and concluded that though toward the fourth century they were numerous and influential in the empire, they did not constitute the majority of the population.

But he remarked further:

Numerical strength and real influence need not coincide in every case; a small circle may exercise very powerful influence if its members are largely drawn from the leading classes, whilst: a large number may represent quite an inferior amount of influence if it is recruited from the lower classes, or in the main from country districts. Christianity was a religion of towns and cities; the larger the town or city, the larger (even relatively) was the number of Christians. This lent it an extraordinary advantage. But alongside of this, Christianity had already penetrated deep into the country districts, throughout a large number of provinces; as we know definitely with regard to the majority of provinces in Asia Minor, and no less so as regards Armenia, Syria, Egypt, Palestine, and Northern Africa (with its country towns).

Dividing all the provinces of the empire into four categories according to the wider or narrower spread of Christianity, Harnack analyzed the position of Christianity in each category and concluded that the headquarters of the Christian church at the opening of the fourth century lay in Asia Minor. It is well known that for a number of years previous to his famous “flight” to Gaul, Constantine stayed at the court of Diocletian in Nicomedia. His impressions of Asia became apparent in Gaul, in the form of political considerations which led him to make his decisive resolve; he could benefit by the support of the firm and powerful Church and episcopate. It is idle to ask whether the Church would have gained her victory even apart from Constantine. Some Constantine or other would have come upon the scene. In any event, the victory of Christianity all over Asia Minor was achieved before Constantine came on the scene at all, and it was assured in other provinces. It required no special illumination and no celestial army chaplain to bring about what was already in existence. All that was needed was an acute and forceful statesman who had a vital interest in the religious situation. Such a man was Constantine. He was gifted, inasmuch as he clearly recognized and firmly grasped what was inevitable.[5]

It is quite apparent that Harnack viewed Constantine as a gifted statesman only.

Naturally, even an approximate statistical estimate of the number of Christians at that period is out of the question. It is admitted by many of the best modern scholars, however, that paganism was still the dominant element in the state and society, while the Christians were decidedly in the minority. According to the calculations of Professor V. Bolotov, which coincided with the estimates of several other scholars, “it is probable that toward the time of Constantine the Christians constituted one-tenth of the entire population; perhaps even this figure needs to be reduced. Any claim that the number of Christians exceeded one-tenth is precarious.”[6] At present there seems to be uniform agreement that the Christians were in the minority during the time of Constantine. If that is true, then the purely political theory in regard to Constantine’s attitude toward Christianity must be dropped. A great statesman would not have allowed his wide political schemes to depend upon one-tenth of the population which at that time was taking no part in political affairs.

Duruy, the author of The History of Rome and of the Roman People, wrote

somewhat under the influence of Burckhardt in evaluating Constantine’s activities; he referred to “honest and calm deism, which, was shaping Constantine’s religion.”

According to Duruy, Constantine “very early became aware of the fact that Christianity in its fundamental dogmas corresponds with his own belief in one God.”[7] But in spite of this, Duruy continued, political considerations were of primary importance to Constantine:

As Bonaparte sought to conciliate the Church and the Revolution, so Constantine proposed to have the old and the new religions live peaceably side by side, at the same time favoring the latter. He understood which way the world was moving, and aided its movement without precipitating it. It is to the honor of this Emperor that he made good his claim to the tide assumed by him on his triumphal arch, quietis custos (custodian of peace) … We have sought to penetrate the deepest recesses of Constantine’s mind, and have found there a policy of government rather than a religious conviction.[8]

Duruy remarked elsewhere, however, that “the Constantine pictured by Eusebius often saw between earth and heaven things which no one else ever noticed.”[9]

Two of the large number of publications which appeared in 1913 in connection with the celebration of the sixteenth centennial of the so-called Edict of Milan were: Kaiser Constantin und die christliche Kirche, written by E. Schwartz, and Collected Papers (Gesammelte Studien), edited by F. Dölger. Schwartz stated that Constantine,

“with the diabolical perspicacity of a world-master, realized the importance which the alliance with the church had for the universal monarchy which he was planning to build, and he had the courage and energy to accomplish this union against all traditions of Caesarism.”[10] E. Krebs, in the Papers edited by Dölger, wrote that all the steps taken by Constantine toward Christianity were but secondary causes of the acceleration of the victory of the church; the main cause lay in the supernatural power of Christianity itself.[11]

Opinions of various scholars on this subject differ widely. P. Batiffol defended the sincerity of Constantine’s conversion,[12] and more recently J. Maurice, a well-known scholar in the field of numismatics of Constantine’s time, attempted to substantiate the miraculous element in his conversion.[13] Boissier noted that for Constantine the statesman to deliver himself into the hands of the Christians, who constituted a minority and were of no political importance, would have meant a risky experiment; therefore, since he did not change his faith for political reasons, it must be admitted he did it through conviction.[14] F. Lot was inclined to accept the sincerity of Constantine’s conversion.[15] E. Stein maintained a political reason. The greatest significance of Constantine’s religious policy, he said, is the introduction of the Christian Church into the organism of the State, and he presumed that Constantine was influenced to some extent by the example of the Zoroastrian state church in Persia.[16]

H. Grégoire wrote that policy always takes precedence over religion, particularly external policy.[17] A. Piganiol said that Constantine was a Christian without knowing it.[18]

However, the “conversion” of Constantine, generally connected with his victory over Maxentius in 312, should not be considered as his real conversion to Christianity; he actually adopted the religion in the year he died. During his entire reign he remained the pontifex maximus; he never called Sunday anything but “the day of the sun” (dies solis); and the “invincible sun” (sol invictus) at that period usually meant the Persian God, Mithras, whose worship was spread throughout the Empire, in the East as well as in the West. At times this cult of the sun was a serious rival to Christianity. It is certain that Constantine was a supporter of the cult of the sun; such devotion was hereditary in his own family. In all probability his sol invictus was Apollo. Maurice observed that this solar religion assured him an immense popularity in the Empire.[19]

Recently some historians made an interesting attempt to represent Constantine as merely the continuator and executor of a policy initiated by others, rather than as the sole champion of Christianity. According to Grégoire, Licinius, before Constantine, originated a policy of tolerance toward Christianity. Schoenebeck, the German historian, questioned Grégoire’s opinion; he considered Maxentius a champion of Christianity in his section of the Empire and the one who provided a model for Constantine to follow.[20]

Granting Constantine’s leanings toward Christianity, his political schemes were nevertheless bound to have a dominating influence upon his attitude toward Christianity, which could be helpful to him in many ways. He understood that in the future Christianity would be the main unifying element among the races of the Empire.

“He wanted to strengthen the unity of the Empire through a unity of the Church.”[21]

The conversion of Constantine is usually connected with the famous story of the appearance of a luminous cross in the sky during the struggle between Constantine and Maxentius; an element of miracle is thus introduced as one of the causes of the conversion. However, the sources related to this event arouse much disagreement among historians. The earliest account of a miracle belongs to a Christian contemporary of Constantine, Lactantius, who, in his work On the Death of the Persecutors (De mortibus persecutorum), spoke only of the warning Constantine received in a dream to inscribe on his shields the likeness of the divine sign of Christ (coeleste signum Dei).[22] Lactantius said nothing about the heavenly vision which Constantine was supposed to have seen.

Another contemporary of Constantine, Eusebius of Caesarea, wrote in two of his works about the victory over Maxentius. In his earlier work, The Ecclesiastical History, Eusebius remarked only that Constantine, starting out to save Rome, “invoked in prayer the God of Heaven and his Word, Jesus Christ, the Savior of all.”[23] Apparently nothing was said here about the dream, or about signs on the shields. Another work, The Life of Constantine, was written about twenty-five years after the victory over Maxentius and is usually, though probably wrongly, attributed to Eusebius. This work relates that the emperor himself told and confirmed by oath the famous story of how during his march on Maxentius he saw above the setting sun a luminous cross, with the words “By This Conquer!” (τουτω νικα). He and his legions were awe-struck at this vision. The following night Christ came to Constantine in a dream, bearing the same sign, and bade him make a likeness of the cross and with it march against his enemies.

As soon as dawn broke the Emperor communicated to his friends the marvelous dream and then, calling together artificers, he described to them the outlines of the vision he had seen and ordered them to execute the standard,[24] which is known as the labarum.[25] The labarum was a long cross formed like a spear. From the transverse bar hung a silk cloth, embroidered in gold and adorned with precious stones, bearing the images of Constantine and his two sons; at the peak of the cross was a golden wreath surrounding the monogram of Christ.[26] From the time of Constantine the labarum became the banner of the Byzantine Empire. Reference to the divine apparition and to armies marching in heaven, which were sent by God to aid Constantine in his struggle, may be found in the works of other writers. The information on this point is so confusing and contradictory that it cannot be properly evaluated from a historic point of view. Some writers go so far as to say that the miracle took place, not during the march against Maxentius, but before Constantine’s departure from Gaul.

The Edict of Milan.

During the reign of Constantine the Great, Christianity received official permission to exist and develop. The first decree favoring Christianity was issued in 311 by Galerius, who had been one of its most ferocious persecutors.

This decree gave pardon to the Christians for their former stubborn resistance to government orders aimed at turning them back to paganism, and announced their legal right to exist. It declared: “Christians may exist again, and may establish their meetings, yet so that they do nothing contrary to good order. Wherefore, in accordance with this indulgence of ours, they will be bound to pray their God for our good estate, that of the commonwealth, and their own.”[27]

Two years later, after his victory over Maxentius and agreement with Licinius, Constantine met Licinius in Milan, where they issued the very interesting document incorrectly called the Edict of Milan. The original text of this document has not been preserved, but a Latin manuscript of Licinius sent to the prefect of Nkomedia has been preserved by Lactantius. A Greek translation of the Latin original is given by Eusebius in his Ecclesiastical History.

According to this document the Christians and people of other religions were given full freedom to follow whatever faith they chose. All measures directed against the Christians were declared null and void:

From now on every one of those who have a common wish to observe the Christian worship may freely and unconditionally endeavor to observe the same without any annoyance or disquiet. These things we thought good to signify in the fullest manner to your Carefulness [i.e., the praeses of Bithynia], that you might know that we have given freely and unreservedly to the said Christians authority to practice their worship. And when you perceive that we have made this grant to the said Christians, your Devotion understands that to others also freedom for their own worship and observance is likewise left open and freely granted, as befits the quiet of our times, that every man may have freedom in the practice of whatever worship he has chosen, for it is not our will that aught be diminished from the honor of any worship.[28]

The document also ordered that private buildings and churches previously confiscated from Christians be restored to them freely and unreservedly.

In 1891 the German scholar O. Seeck advanced the theory that no Edict of Milan was ever issued. The only edict which ever appeared, he stated, was the edict of tolerance issued by Galerius in 311.[29] For a long time most historians failed to accept this view. In 1013 the sixteen-hundredth anniversary of the Edict of Milan was solemnly celebrated in many countries and a vast literature on the subject was produced. In reality, however, the edict quoted above, promulgated at Nicomedia by Licinius in 313, was a confirmation of Galerius’ edict of 311, which apparently had not been satisfactorily carried out. The document which was issued at Milan in March, 313

by Constantine and Licinius was not an edict but a letter to the governors of the provinces in Asia Minor and in the East in general, explaining and directing how they should treat the Christians.[30]

The conclusion, on the basis of this edict, is that Constantine and Licinius gave Christianity the same rights enjoyed by other faiths, including paganism. It is premature to speak of the triumph of Christianity in Constantine’s time. To Constantine, Christianity seemed compatible with paganism. The great significance of his act is that he not only allowed Christianity to exist but actually placed it under the protection of the government. This was an extremely significant moment in the history of early Christianity. The Edict of Nicomedia, however, gave no basis for the claim made by some historians that during the reign of Constantine Christianity was placed above all other religions, that the others were only tolerated,[31] and that the “Edict of Milan”

proclaimed, not a policy of toleration, but the predominance of Christianity.[32] When the question of the dominance or the equal rights of Christianity is raised, the decision must be in favor of equal rights. Nevertheless, the significance of the Edict of Nicomedia is great. As one historian has said, “In reality, without any unnecessary exaggeration, the importance of the ‘Edict of Milan’ remains unquestionably great, for it was an act which ended the illegal position of the Christians in the empire and declared at the same time complete religious freedom, thus reducing paganism de jure from its former position of the only state religion to the rank of all other religions.”[33]

The attitude of Constantine toward the Church.

Constantine did more than merely grant equal rights to Christianity as a definite religious doctrine. The Christian clergy (clerici) were given all the privileges granted to the pagan priests. They were exempted from state taxation and duties as well as from the officeholding which might divert them from the performance of their religious obligations (the right of immunity). Any man could bequeath his property to the Church, which thereby acquired the right of inheritance. Thus, simultaneously with the declaration of religious freedom, the Christian communities were recognized as legal juridical entities; from a legal point of view, Christianity was placed in an entirely new position.

Very important privileges were given to episcopal courts. Any man had the right, if his opponent agreed, to carry a civil suit to the episcopal court, even after proceedings in that suit had already been started in the civil court. Toward the end of Constantine’s reign the authority of the episcopal courts was enlarged still more: (1) The decision of a bishop had to be accepted as final in cases concerning people of any age; (2) any civil case could be transferred to the episcopal court at any stage of the proceedings, even if the opposing side did not agree; (3) the decisions of the episcopal courts had to be sanctioned by civil judges. All these judicial privileges increased the authority of the bishops in society but at the same time added a heavy burden to their responsibilities and created many complications. The losing side, in view of the illegality of appealing a bishop’s decision, which could not always be correct, often remained dissatisfied and irritated. Moreover, these additional duties introduced too many worldly interests into the lives of the bishops.

The Church at the same time was growing in material wealth through gifts from state resources of landed property or money and grain. Christians could not be forced to participate in pagan festivals. At the same time Christian influence brought about some mitigation in the punishment of criminals.

In addition to all this, Constantine’s name is connected with the erection of many churches in all parts of his immense empire. The basilica of St. Peter and the basilica of the Lateran in Rome are ascribed to him. He was particularly interested in Palestine, where his mother, Helena, supposedly found the true cross. In Jerusalem, in the place where Christ was buried, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was erected; on the Mount of Olives Constantine built the Church of the Ascension and at Bethlehem the Church of the Nativity. The new capital, Constantinople, and its suburbs were also adorned with many churches, the most prominent the Church of the Apostles and the Church of St.

Irene; it is possible that Constantine laid the foundations of St. Sophia, which was completed by his successor, Constantius. Many churches were being constructed in other places during Constantine’s reign, at Antioch, Nicomedia, and North Africa.[34]

After the reign of Constantine three important Christian centers developed: the early Christian Rome, in Italy, although pagan sympathy and tradition continued to exist there for some time; Christian Constantinople, which very soon became a second Rome in the eyes of the Christians of the East; and, finally, Christian Jerusalem. After the destruction of Jerusalem by the Emperor Titus in 70 A.D., and the formation in its place of the Roman colony, Aelia Capitolina, during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian in the second century A.D, old Jerusalem had lost its significance, although it was the mother church of Christendom and the center of the first apostolic preaching.

Christian Jerusalem was called to new life in the period of Constantine. Politically, Caesarea, and not Aelia, was the capital of that province. The churches built during this period in the three centers stood as symbols of the triumph of the Christian church on earth. This church soon became the state church. The new idea of the kingdom on earth was in direct contrast with the original conception of Christianity as a kingdom

“not of this world,” and of the rapidly approaching end of the world.[35]

Arianism and the Council of Nicaea

Because of the new conditions created in the early part of the fourth century, the Christian church experienced a period of intense activity which manifested itself particularly in the field of dogma. In the fourth century problems of dogma preoccupied not only individual men, as was the case in the third century with Tertullian or Origen, but also entire parties, consisting of large, well-organized groups of individuals.

In the fourth century councils became a common occurrence and they were

considered the only effective means for settling debatable problems. But in this movement a new element is present in the relations between church and state, highly significant for the subsequent history of relations between the spiritual and the temporal powers. Beginning with Constantine the Great, the state took part in the religious disputes and directed them as it saw fit. In many cases, obviously, the interests of the state did not coincide with those of the church.

For many centuries the cultural center of the East was the Egyptian city Alexandria, where intellectual activity rushed forth in a powerful stream. Quite naturally, the new dogmatical movements originated in Alexandria which, according to Professor A. Spassky, “became the center of theological development in the East and attained in the Christian world the particular fame of a philosophical church which never tired of studying higher problems of religion and science.”[36] Although it was an Alexandrian presbyter, Arius, who gave his name to the most significant “heretical”

teaching of Constantine’s period, the doctrine had originated in the second half of the third century in Antioch, Syria, where Lucian, one of the most learned men of the time, had founded an exegetical-theological school. This school, as A. Harnack said, “is the nursery of the Arian doctrine, and Lucian, its head, is the Arius before Arius.”[37]

Arius advanced the idea that the Son of God was a created being. This idea formed the basis of the Arian heresy. Beyond the boundaries of Egypt, Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea, and Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, sided with Arius. Feeling ran high.

Arius, in spite of the efforts of his adherents, was refused communion by Alexander, bishop of Alexandria. Local efforts to pacify the disturbances in the church did not succeed.

Constantine, who had just defeated Licinius and had become sole Emperor, arrived in 324 at Nicomedia, where he received numerous complaints from both the opponents and the adherents of Arius. Desiring above alt to maintain religious peace in the Empire and not realizing the full significance of the dogmatic dispute, the Emperor sent a letter to Bishop Alexander and Arius, urging them to come to an agreement. He pointed out as an example the philosophers, who had their disputes yet lived in peace.

He also indicated in his letter that it should not be difficult for them to come to an agreement, since both of them believed in Divine Providence and Jesus Christ. “Restore me then my quiet days, and untroubled nights, that the joy of undimmed light, the delight of a tranquil life, may henceforth be my portion,” Constantine wrote in his letter.[38]

This letter was delivered to Alexandria by Bishop Hosius (Osius) of Cordova (Spain), whom Constantine held in great esteem. He delivered the letter, investigated the matter thoroughly, and explained to the Emperor on his return the full significance of the Arian movement. It was only then that Constantine decided to call a council.

The First Ecumenical Council was called together by imperial edicts in the Bithynian city, Nicaea. The exact number of people who came to this council is not known; the number of Nicaean Fathers is often estimated at 318.[39] Most of them were eastern bishops. The aged bishop of Rome sent in his place two presbyters. Among the matters taken up by the council the most important was the Arian dispute. The Emperor presided at the council and sometimes even led the discussions.

The acts of the Council of Nicaea have not been preserved. Some doubt that any written records of the proceedings were kept at all. Information about the council comes from the writings of those who participated in it as well as from the accounts of historians.[40] The most enthusiastic and skillful opponent of Arius was the archdeacon of the Alexandrian church, Athanasius. After heated discussions the council condemned the heresy of Arius, and after introducing some corrections and additions, it adopted the Creed in which, contrary to the teachings of Arius, Jesus Christ was recognized as the Son of God, unbegotten, and consubstantial (of one essence) with His Father. The Nicene Creed was signed by many of the Arian bishops. The more persistent of them, including Arius himself, were subjected to exile and confinement. One of the best authorities on Arianism wrote: “Arianism had started with a vigour promising a great career, and in a few years seemed no unequal claimant for the supremacy of the East. But its strength collapsed the moment the council met, withered by the universal reprobation of the Christian world … Arianism seemed hopelessly crushed when the council closed.”[41] The solemn proclamation of the council announced to all communities the new state of harmony and peace within the church. Constantine wrote: “The devil will no longer have any power against us, since all that which he had malignantly devised for our destruction has been entirely overthrown from the foundations. The Splendor of Truth has dissipated at the command of God those dissensions, schisms, tumults, and so to speak, deadly poisons of discord.”[42]

Reality did not fulfill Constantine’s hopes. The Council of Nicaea, by its condemnation of Arianism, not only failed to put an end to Arian disputes, but caused many new similar movements and complications. In the attitude of Constantine himself there came to be a marked change in favor of the Arians. A few years after the council, Arius and his most fervent followers were recalled from exile.[43] But Arius’ restoration was prevented by his sudden death. Their place in exile was taken by the leaders who supported the Nicene Creed. And while the Nicene creed was never officially repealed and condemned, it was purposely forgotten and partly replaced by other formulas.

It is very difficult to explain the origin of the strong opposition to the Nicene Council and the cause of the change in Constantine’s attitude. Perhaps among the many varied explanations, such as court influences, intimate family relations, and the like, attention should be called to this view: When Constantine first attempted to solve the Arian problem he was not acquainted with the religious situation in the East, where the prevailing sentiment was in favor of Arianism; the Emperor was educated in the West and influenced by his western leaders, such as Hosius, bishop of Cordova, and so he decided in favor of the Nicene Creed. This was in harmony with his views at the time but was not suitable to conditions in the East. When later Constantine realized that the Nicene decisions were contrary to the spirit of the church majority and conflicted with the desires of the masses in the East he assumed a more favorable attitude toward Arianism. During the last years of Constantine’s reign Arianism penetrated even to the court and became every year more firmly established in the eastern part of the Empire.

Many of the partisans of the Nicene Creed were deprived of their sees and sent into exile. The history of Arian predominance during that period is still not sufficiently clear because of the unsatisfactory condition of the sources.[44]

Constantine remained a pagan until the last year of his life. Only on his death bed was he baptized by Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, an Arian; but A. Spassky remarked that he died while directing that Athanasius, the famous opponent of Arius, be recalled.[45] Constantine made his sons Christian.

The foundation of Constantinople.

The second event of primary importance during Constantine’s reign, next to the recognition of Christianity, was the foundation of a new capital on the European shore of the Bosphorus, at its entrance to the Propontis (Sea of Marmora), on the site of the former Megarian colony, Byzantium (Βυζαντιον).

Long before Constantine the ancients had been fully aware of the strategic and commercial advantages of Byzantium, situated as it was on the border of Asia and Europe, commanding the entrance to two seas, the Black and the Mediterranean. It was also close to the main sources of the glorious ancient cultures. Judging by the sources, in the first half of the seventh century B.C. the Megarians had founded a colony named Chalcedon, on the Asiatic shore of the southern end of the Bosphorus, opposite the site where Constantinople was built in later years. A few years after the founding of this colony another party of Megarians established a colony on the European shore of the south end of the Bosphorus, Byzantium, named for the chief of the Megarian expedition, Byzas (Βυζας). The advantages of Byzantium over Chalcedon were well understood by the ancients. The Greek historian of the fifth century, B.C., Herodotus (iv, 144) wrote that the Persian general, Megabazus, upon arriving at Byzantium, called the inhabitants of Chalcedon blind people, because, having a choice of sites for their city, they had chosen the worse of the two, disregarding the better site, where Byzantium was founded within a few years. Later literary tradition, including Strabo (vii, 6, c. 320) and the Roman historian, Tacitus (Ann. xii, 63), ascribes this statement of Megabazus, in a slightly modified form, to the Pythian Apollo who, in answer to the Megarian’s question as to where they should build the city, answered that they should settle opposite the land of the blind. Byzantium played an important part during the epoch of the Greco-Persian Wars and the time of Philip of Macedon. The Greek historian of the second century B.C., Polybius, analyzed thoroughly the political and economic position of Byzantium. Recognizing the importance of trade relations between Greece and the cities along the Black Sea, he wrote that without the consent of the inhabitants of Byzantium not a single commercial vessel could enter or leave the Black Sea and that the Byzantians thus controlled all the indispensable products of the Pontus.[46]

After Rome ceased to be a republic the emperors more than once wanted to transfer the capital from republican-minded Rome to the East. According to the Roman historian, Suetonius (I, 79), Julius Caesar intended to move from Rome to Alexandria or to Ilion (former Troy). In the first centuries of the Christian era the emperors often deserted Rome for long periods during their extensive military campaigns and journeys through the empire. At the end of the second century Byzantium received a heavy blow: Septimius Severus, upon defeating his rival, Pescennius Niger, who was supported by Byzantium, submitted the city to a terrible sack and almost complete destruction. Meanwhile the East continued to attract the emperors. Diocletian (284-305) preferred to live in Asia Minor in the Bithynian city, Nicomedia, which he beautified with many magnificent new edifices.

When Constantine decided to create a new capital, he did not choose Byzantium at once. For a while, at least, he considered Naissus (Nish) where he was born, Sardica (Sofia), and Thessalonica. His attention turned particularly to Troy, the city of Aeneas, who according to tradition, had come to Latium in Italy and laid the foundations for the Roman state. The Emperor set out personally to the famous place, where he himself defined the limits of the future city. The gates had already been constructed when, as Sozomen, the Christian writer of the fifth century, related, one night God visited Constantine in a dream and induced him to look for a different site for his capital. After this Constantine’s choice fell definitely upon Byzantium. Even a century later travelers sailing near the shores of Troy could see the unfinished structures begun by Constantine.[47]

Byzantium, which had not yet fully recovered from the severe destruction caused by Septimius Severus, was at that time a mere village and occupied only part of the cape extending to the Sea of Marmora. In 324 A.D. Constantine decided upon the foundation of the new capital and in 325 the construction of the main buildings was begun.[48] Christian legend tells that the Emperor, with spear in his hand, was outlining the boundaries of the city when his courtiers, astonished by the wide dimensions planned for the capital, asked him, “How long, our Lord, will you keep going?” He answered, “I shall keep on until he who walks ahead of me will stop.”[49]

This was meant to indicate that some divine power was leading him. Laborers and materials for the construction work were gathered from everywhere. Pagan monuments of Rome, Athens, Alexandria, Ephesus, and Antioch were used in beautifying the new capital. Forty thousand Goth soldiers, the so-called “foederati,”

participated in the construction of the new buildings. Many commercial and financial privileges were proclaimed for the new capital in order to attract a larger population.

Toward the spring of 330 A.D. the work had progressed to such an extent that Constantine found it possible to dedicate the new capital officially. The dedication took place on May 11, 330 and was followed by celebrations and festivities which lasted for forty days. In this year Christian Constantinople was superimposed upon pagan Byzantium.[50]

Although it is difficult to estimate the size of the city in the time of Constantine, it is certain that it exceeded by far the extent of the former Byzantium. There are no precise figures for the population of Constantinople in the fourth century; a mere assumption is that it might have been more than 200,000.[51] For protection against the enemy from the land, Constantine built a wall extending from the Golden Horn to the Sea of Marmora.

In later years ancient Byzantium became the capital of a world empire and it was called the “City of Constantine” or Constantinople. The capital adopted the municipal system of Rome and was subdivided into fourteen districts or regions, two of which were outside the city walls. Of the monuments of Constantine’s time almost none have survived to the present day. However, the Church of St. Irene, which was rebuilt twice during the time of Justinian the Great and Leo III, dates back to Constantine’s time and is still preserved. The famous small serpent column from Delphi (fifth century B.C), erected in commemoration of the battle of Plataea, transferred by Constantine to the new capital, and placed by him in the Hippodrome, is still there today, although it is somewhat damaged.

Constantine, with the insight of genius, appraised all the advantages of the position of the city, political as well as economic and cultural. Politically, Constantinople, or, as it was often called, the “New Rome,” had exceptional advantages for resisting external enemies. It was inaccessible from the sea; on land it was protected by walls. Economically, Constantinople controlled the entire trade of the Black Sea with the Aegean and the Mediterranean seas and was thus destined to become the commercial intermediary between Europe and Asia. Finally, in the matter of culture, Constantinople had the great advantage of being situated close to the most important centers of Hellenistic culture, which under Christian influence resulted in a new Christian-Greco-Roman, or “Byzantine,” culture. Th. I. Uspensky wrote:

The choice of a site for the new capital, the construction of Constantinople, and the creation of a universal historical city is one of the indefeasible achievements of the political and administrative genius of Constantine. Not in the edict of religious toleration lies Constantine’s great service to the world: if not he, then his immediate successors would have been forced to grant to Christianity its victorious position, and the delay would have done no harm to Christianity. But by his timely transfer of the world-capital to Constantinople he saved the ancient culture and created a favorable setting for the spread of Christianity.[52]

Following the period of Constantine the Great, Constantinople became the political, religious, economic, and cultural center of the Empire.[53]

Reforms of Diocletian and Constantine.

The reforms of Constantine and Diocletian were characterized by establishment of a strict centralization of power, introduction of a vast bureaucracy, and definite separation of civil and military power. These reforms were not new and unexpected.

The Roman Empire began its trend toward centralization of power as early as the time of Augustus. Parallel with Roman absorption of the new regions of the Hellenistic East, which developed through long centuries higher culture and older forms of government, especially in the provinces of Ptolemaic Egypt, there was a gradual borrowing from the living customs and Hellenistic ideals of these newly acquired lands.

The distinguishing characteristic of the states built on the ruins of the empire of Alexander the Great of Macedon, Pergamon of the Attalids, Syria of the Seleucids, and Egypt of the Ptolemies, was the unlimited, deified power of the monarchs, manifested in particularly firm and definite forms in Egypt. To the Egyptian population Augustus, the conqueror of this territory, and his successors continued to be the same unlimited deified monarchs as the Ptolemies had been before them. This was quite the opposite of the Roman conception of the power of the first princeps, which was an attempt to effect a compromise between the republican institutions of Rome and the newly developing forms of governmental power. The political influences of the Hellenistic east, however, gradually changed the original extent of the power of the Roman principes, who very soon showed their preference for the East and its conceptions of imperial power. Suetonius said of the emperor of the first century, Caligula, that he was ready to accept the imperial crown—the diadem;[54] according to the sources, the emperor of the first half of the third century, Elagabalus, already wore the diadem in private;[55] and it is well known that the emperor of the second half of the third century, Aurelian, was the first one to wear the diadem publicly, while the inscriptions and coins call him “God” and “Lord” (Deus Aurelianus, Imperator Deus et Dominus Aurelianus Augustus).[56] It was Aurelian who established the autocratic form of government in the Roman Empire.

The process of development of the imperial power, primarily on the basis of Ptolemaic Egypt and later under the influence of Sassanid Persia, was almost completed by the fourth century. Diocletian and Constantine desired to effect the definite organization of the monarchy and for this purpose they simply replaced the Roman institutions with the customs and practices which predominated in the Hellenistic East and were already known in Rome, especially after the time of Aurelian.

The times of trouble and military anarchy of the third century greatly disturbed and disintegrated the internal organization of the empire. For a while Aurelian re-established its unity and for this achievement contemporary documents and inscriptions bestow upon him the name of the “restorer of the Empire” (Restitutor Orbis). But after his death a period of unrest followed, It was then that Diocletian set himself the goal of directing the entire state organism along a normal and orderly path.

As a matter of fact, however, he simply accomplished a great administrative reform.

Nevertheless, both Diocletian and Constantine introduced administrative changes of such extreme importance to the internal organization of the Empire that they may be considered to be the true founders of a new type of monarchy created under the strong influence of the East.

Diocletian, who spent much of his time in Nicomedia and was on the whole favorably inclined toward the East, adopted many characteristics of the eastern monarchies. He was a true autocrat, an emperor-god who wore the imperial diadem.

Oriental luxury and the complex ceremonial were introduced at his court. His subjects, when granted an audience, had to fall on their knees before they dared to lift their eyes to view their sovereign. Everything concerning the Emperor was considered sacred—

his words, his court, his treasury; he himself was a sacred person. His court, which Constantine later transferred to Constantinople, absorbed large sums of money and became the center of numerous plots and intrigues which caused very serious complications in the later periods of Byzantine life. Thus autocracy in a form closely related to Oriental despotism was definitely established by Diocletian and became one of the distinguishing marks of government structure in the Byzantine Empire.

In order to systematize the administration of the vast Empire, which included many races, Diocletian introduced the system of tetrarchy, “of the power of four persons.” The administrative power was divided between two Augusti, who had equal plenipotence. One of them was to live in the eastern, and the other in the western, part of the Empire; but both had to work in the interests of one Roman state. The Empire remained undivided; the appointment of two Augusti, however, indicated that the government recognized even in those days that a difference existed between the Greek East and the Latin West, and that the administration of both could not be entrusted to the same person. Each Augustus was to be assisted by a Caesar, who, in case of the death or retirement of the Augustus, became the Augustus and selected a new Caesar.

This created a sort of artificial dynastic system which was supposed to do away with the conflicts and conspiracies originating in the ambitions of various competitors. This system was also meant to deprive the legions of their decisive influence at the time of the election of a new emperor. The first two Augusti were Diocletian and Maximian, and their Caesars were Galerius and Constantius Chlorus, the father of Constantine the Great. Diocletian retained his Asiatic provinces and Egypt, with headquarters at Nicomedia; Maximian kept Italy, Africa, and Spain, with headquarters at Mediolanum (Milan); Galerius kept the Balkan peninsula and the adjoining Danubian provinces, with a center at Sirmium on the River Save (near present Mitrovitz); and Constantius Chlorus kept Gaul and Britain, with centers at Augusta Trevirorum (Trier, Treves) and Eburacum (York). All four rulers were considered as rulers of a single empire, and all government decrees were issued in the name of all four. Although theoretically the two Augusti were equal in their power, Diocletian, as an emperor, had a decided advantage.

The Caesars were subjects of the Augusti. After a certain period of time the Augusti had to lay down their titles and transfer them to the Caesars. In fact Diocletian and Maximian did lay down their titles in 305 and retired to private life. Galerius and Constantius Chlorus became the Augusti. But the troubles which followed put an end to the artificial system of tetrarchy, which had already ceased to exist at the beginning of the fourth century.

Great changes in the provincial government were introduced by Diocletian.

During his reign the distinction between senatorial and imperial provinces disappeared; all provinces were dependent directly upon the emperor. Formerly, the provinces being comparatively few and territorially very large, their governors had enormous power in their hands. This condition had created many dangerous situations for the central government; revolts were frequent and the governors of these large provinces, supported by their legions, were often serious pretenders to the imperial throne. Diocletian, wishing to do away with the political menace of the large provinces, decided to divide them into smaller units. The fifty-seven provinces in existence at the time of his ascension were divided into ninety-six new ones, perhaps more. Moreover, these provinces were placed under governors whose powers were purely civil. The exact number of smaller provinces created by Diocletian is not known because of the unsatisfactory information given by the sources. The main source on the provincial structure of the Empire at this time is the so-called Notitia dignitatum, an official list of court, civil, and military offices, which contains also a list of provinces. According to scholarly investigations, this undated document refers to the first half of the fifth century and hence includes the changes in provincial government introduced by the successors of Diocletian. The Notitia dignitatum numbers 120 provinces. Other lists, also of doubtful but earlier dates, give a smaller number of provinces.[57] Under Diocletian also a certain number of small new neighboring provinces were grouped together in a unit called a diocese under the control of an official whose powers were likewise purely civil. There were thirteen dioceses. In their extent the dioceses resembled the old provinces. Finally, in the course of the fourth century the dioceses in turn were grouped into four (at times three) vast units (prefectures) under praetorian prefects, the most important officials of that time. Since Constantine had shorn them of their military functions, they stood at the head of the whole civil administration and controlled both the diocesan and the provincial governors. Toward the end of the fourth century the Empire, for purposes of civil government, was divided into four great sections (prefectures): (1) Gaul, including Britain, Gaul, Spain, and the northwestern corner of Africa; (2) Italy, including Africa, Italy, the provinces between the Alps and the Danube, and the northwestern portion of the Balkan peninsula; (3) Illyricum, the smallest of the prefectures, which embraced the provinces of Dacia, Macedonia, and Greece;[58] and (4) the East, comprising the Asiatic territory, as well as Thrace in Europe in the north and Egypt in the south.

Many details of Diocletian’s reforms are not yet available because of the lack of adequate sources on the subject. It should be stressed, however, that in order to secure his power still more against possible provincial complications, Diocletian strictly separated military authority from civil authority; from his time onward the provincial governors had only judicial and administrative functions. The provincial reforms of Diocletian affected Italy in particular; from the leading district she was transformed into a mere province. The administrative reforms resulted in the creation of a large number of new officials and a complex bureaucratic system with strict subjection of the lower officials to the higher. Constantine the Great further developed and enlarged in some respects the reorganization of the Empire begun by Diocletian.

Thus the chief features of Diocletian’s and Constantine’s reforms were the definite establishment of absolute monarchical power and a strict separation of military and civil functions, which led to the creation of a large and complex bureaucracy. During the Byzantine period the first feature was preserved; the second experienced a great change because of a constant tendency to concentrate military and civil authority in the same hands. The numerous offices and titles were retained in the Byzantine Empire. This bureaucratic system survived to the last years of the Empire, but many changes took place in the nature of the functions and the names of the dignitaries. Most of the titles were changed from Latin to Greek; many offices degenerated into mere titles or ranks; and a number of new offices and dignities were created during subsequent periods.

A very important factor in the history of the Empire in the fourth century was the gradual immigration of the barbarians, that is, the Germans (Goths). A detailed examination of this question appears after the discussion of general conditions in the fourth century.

Constantine the Great died in 337 A.D. He has met with rare and deep

appreciation from many different points of view. The Roman senate, according to the historian of the fourth century, Eutropius, enrolled Constantine among the gods;[59]

history has named him “the Great;” and the church has proclaimed him a saint and equal of the Apostles (Isoapostolic). Modern historians have likened him to Peter of Russia[60] and Napoleon.[61]

Eusebius of Caesarea wrote his “Panegyric of Constantine” to glorify the triumph of Christianity in putting an end to the creations of Satan, the false gods, and destroying the pagan states:

One God was proclaimed to all mankind. At the same time one universal power, the Roman Empire, arose and flourished. At the selfsame period, by the express appointment of the same God, two roots of blessing, the Roman Empire and the doctrine of Christian piety, sprang up together for the benefit or men … Two mighty powers starting from the same point, the Roman Empire swayed by a single sovereign and the Christian religion, subdued and reconciled all these contending elements.[62]

From Constantine to the Early Sixth Century

After the death of Constantine his three sons, Constantine, Constantius, and Constans, all assumed the title of Augustus and divided among themselves the rule of the Empire.

A struggle soon broke out among the three rulers, during which two of the brothers were killed, Constantine in the year 340 and Constans ten years later. Constantius thus became the sole master of the Empire and ruled until the year 361. He was childless, and after the death of his brothers he was greatly troubled by the question of a successor to the throne. His policy of extinguishing all the members of his family spared only two cousins, Gallus and Julian, whom he kept away from the capital Anxious, however, to secure the throne for his dynasty, he made Gallus Caesar.

But the latter incurred the Emperor’s suspicions and was assassinated in the year 354.

Such was the state of affairs when the brother of Gallus, Julian, was called to the court of Constantius, where he was appointed to the position of Caesar (355) married Helena, a sister of Constantius. The short reign (361-63) of Julian, whose death ended the dynasty of Constaniine the Great, was followed by the equally short rule of his successor, the former commander of the court guards, Jovian (363-64), who was elected Augustus by the army. After his death the new choice fell on Valentinian (364-75) who, immediately after his own election, was forced by the demands of his soldiers to appoint his brother, Valens, as Augustus and co-ruler (364-78). Valentinian ruied the western part of the Empire and entrusted the eastern half to Valens. Valentinian was succeeded in the west by his son Gratian (375-83), while at the same time the army proclaimed as Augustus Valentinian II (375-92), the four-year-old stepbrother of Gratian. Following the death of Valens (378), Gratian appointed Theodosius to the high position of Augustus and commissioned him to rule over the eastern half of the Empire and a large part of Illyricum. Theodosius, originally from the far West (Spain), was the first emperor of the dynasty which occupied the throne until the death of Theodosius the Younger in 450 A.D.

After the death of Theodosius his sons Arcadius and Honorius divided the rule of the Empire; Arcadius ruled in the east and Honorius in the west. As in previous instances in the fourth century under the joint rule of Valens and Valentinian I, or of Theodosius, Gratian, and Valentinian II, when the division of power did not destroy the unity of the Empire, so under Arcadius and Honorius that unity was maintained: there were two rulers of one state. Contemporaries viewed the situation precisely in this light. The historian of the fifth century, Orosius, the author of the History Against the Pagans, wrote: “Arcadius and Honorius began to keep the common empire, having only divided their seats.”[63]

Among the emperors who reigned in the eastern part of the Empire during the period 395-518, the first were from the lineage of Theodosius the Great: his son Arcadius (395-408), who married Eudoxia, the daughter of a German (Frankish) chief; and the son of Arcadius, Theodosius the Younger (408-50), whose wife Athenais was the daughter of an Athenian philosopher and was named Eudocia when she was baptized.

After the death of Theodosius II his sister Pulcheria married Marcian of Thrace, who became emperor (450-57). Thus in 450 A.D. ended the male line of the Spanish dynasty of Theodosius. Following Marcian’s death Leo I (457-74), born in Thrace or “Dacia in Illyricum,” i.e. in the prefecture of Illyricum, a military tribune, was chosen emperor.

Ariadne, the daughter of Leo I, who was married to the Isaurian Zeno, had a son Leo, who, after the death of his grandfather, became emperor (474) at the age of six. He died a few months later, after he had succeeded in appointing as coemperor his father, Zeno, of the wild tribe of Isaurians, dwellers of the Taurus Mountains in Asia Minor.

This Leo is known in history as Leo II the Younger. His father, Zeno, reigned from 474 to 491. When Zeno died his wife, Ariadne, married a silentiary,[64] the aged Anastasius, originally from Dyrrachium (Durazzo) in Illyria (present-day Albania). He was proclaimed emperor in 491 and ruled as Anastasius I until 518.

This list of emperors indicates that from the death of Constantine the Great until 518 A.D. the throne at Constantinople was occupied first by the Dardanian dynasty of Constantine, or rather the dynasty of his father, who probably belonged to some Romanized barbarian tribe of the Balkan peninsula; then by a number of Romans—

Jovian and the family of Valentinian I; then by three members of the Spanish dynasty of Theodosius, followed by occasional emperors belonging to various tribes: Thracians, one Isaurian, and an Illyrian (perhaps an Albanian). During this entire period the throne was never occupied by a Greek.

Constantius (337-61).

The sons of Constantine ruled the Empire jointly after the death of their father.

The hostility among the three brothers who had divided the rule of the Empire was further complicated by the hard struggle with the Persians and Germans which the Empire had to face at that time. The brothers were kept asunder not only by political differences, but by religious ones as well. While Constantine and Constans were adherents of the Nicene Creed, Constantius, continuing the development of the religious policy of the last years of his father’s life, openly sided with the Arians. During the ensuing civil strife Constantine, and a few years later Constans, were slain.

Constantius became the sole ruler of the Empire.

As an ardent adherent of Arianism, Constantius carried out a persistent Arian policy against paganism. One of the decrees of Constantius proclaimed: “Let there be an end to all superstition, and let the insanity of sacrifices be rooted out.”[65] But the pagan temples outside the city wails still remained inviolable for the time being. A few years later a decree ordered the temples closed, forbade entrance to them, and prohibited the offering of sacrifices in all localities and cities of the Empire under the threat of death and confiscation of property. Still another edict stated that the penalty of death would be incurred by anyone who offered sacrifices or worshiped the gods.[66]

When Constantius, wishing to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of his reign, arrived for the first time at Rome, he inspected the numerous monuments under the guidance of the senators, who were still pagans, and ordered that the Altar of Victory, personifying for paganism all the former greatness of Rome, be removed from the Senate. This act made a very deep impression on the pagans, for they sensed that the last days of their existence were approaching. Under Constantius the immunities of the clergy were broadened; bishops were exempted from civil trial.

In spite of the harsh measures directed against paganism, it not only continued to exist side by side with Christianity, but at times it even found some protection from the government. Thus Constantius did not disperse the vestals and priests in Rome, and in one of his edicts he even ordered the election of a priest (sacerdos) for Africa, Until the end of his life Constantius bore the title of Pontifex Maximus. On the whole, however, paganism experienced a number of setbacks during his reign, while Christianity in its Arian interpretation advanced.

The persistent Arian policy of Constantius led to serious friction between him and the Nicaeans. Particularly persistent was he in his struggle with the famous leader of the Nicaeans, Athanasius of Alexandria. Constantius died in 361, and neither the Nicaeans nor the pagans could sincerely mourn the death of their emperor. The pagans rejoiced because the throne was to be occupied by Julian, an open adherent of paganism. The feelings of the Christian party in the matter of Constantius’ death was expressed in the words of St. Jerome: “Our Lord awakes, he commands the tempest; the beast dies and tranquillity is restored.”[67] Constantius died during the Persian campaign in Cilicia, but his body was transported to Constantinople. His pompous funeral took place in the presence of the new Emperor Julian in the Church of the Apostles, supposedly erected by Constantine the Great.[67a] The Senate enrolled the deceased emperor among the gods.

Julian the Apostate (361-63).

The name of Julian, the successor of Constantius, is closely connected with the last attempt to restore paganism in the Empire. Julian was an extremely interesting personality, who for a long time has attracted the attention of scholars and writers. The literature about him is very extensive. The writings of Julian himself, which have been preserved, give abundant material for judging his philosophy and actions. The chief aim of investigators in this field has been to understand and interpret this enthusiastic

“Hellen” so firmly convinced of the righteousness and success of his undertaking, the man who in the second half of the fourth century set out to restore and revive paganism and make it the basis of the religious life of the Empire.

Julian lost his parents at a very early age: his mother died a few months after his birth, his father died when he was only six years old. He received a very good education. His most influential tutor and general guide was Mardonius, a scholar of Greek literature and philosophy, who had taught Homer and Hesiod to Julian’s mother.

While Mardonius acquainted Julian with the masterpieces of classical literature, a Christian clergyman, probably Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia and later of Constantinople, a convinced Arian, introduced him to the study of the Holy Scriptures.

Thus, according to one historian,[68] Julian received two different kinds of education which lodged in him side by side without affecting each other. Julian was baptized in his early youth. In later years he recalled this event as a nightmare which he must try to forget.

The early years of Julian’s life were spent in great fear and anxiety. Constantius, regarding him as a possible rival and suspecting him of having designs on the throne, sometimes kept him in provinces far from the capital as a kind of exile and sometimes called him to the capital in order to keep him under observation. Conscious of all the facts about the massacre of many members of his family who had been slain by the order of Constantius, Julian feared death constantly. Constantius forced him to spend a few years in Cappadocia, where he continued the study of ancient writers under the guidance of Mardonius, who accompanied him, and where he also became well acquainted with the Bible and the Gospels. Later Constantius transferred Julian first to Constantinople and then to Nicomedia, where he continued his studies and first exhibited his serious leanings toward paganism.

The greatest rhetorician of that period, Libanius, was lecturing in Nicomedia at that time. He was the true leader of Hellenism, who refused to study Latin, regarding it with disdain. He despised Christianity and attributed the solution of all problems to Hellenism. His enthusiasm for paganism knew no bounds. His lectures were exceedingly popular at Nicomedia. When Constantius decided to send Julian there, he foresaw perhaps what ineffaceable impression the enthusiastic lectures of Libanius might make upon the mind of the young student, and he forbade Julian to attend the lectures of the famous rhetorician. Julian did not formally disobey this imperial command, but he studied the writings of Libanius, discussed the lectures of the inspiring teacher with people who had heard them, and adopted the style and mode of his writings to such an extent that he was afterwards spoken of as a pupil of Libanius. It was also at Nicomedia that Julian studied with enthusiasm the occult neo-Platonic teachings, which at that time aimed to penetrate the future through calling out, by means of certain conjuring formulas, not only ordinary dead people but even the gods (theurgy). The learned philosopher Maximus of Ephesus greatly influenced Julian on this subject.

After surviving the dangerous period of the death of his brother Gallus, slain by the orders of Constantius, Julian was called to the court at Milan for acquittal and then exiled to Athens. This city, famous for its great past, was no more than a quiet provincial town where the famous pagan school stood as a reminder of the former glorious days. Julian’s stay at Athens was full of deep interest. In later life in one of his letters he “recalled with great pleasure the Attic discourses … the gardens and suburbs of Athens and its myrtles, and the humble home of Socrates.”[69] Many historians claim that it was during this stay in Athens that Julian was initiated by an Eleusinian hierophant into the ancient mysteries of Eleusis. This, according to Boissier, was a sort of baptism of a newly converted soul.[70] Some scholars, however, have expressed doubt about the Eleusinian conversion of Julian.[71]

In 355 Constantius appointed Julian to the position of Caesar, married him to his sister, Helena, and sent him as head of the army to Gaul to aid in the long and arduous campaign against the advancing Germans, who were devastating the land, ravaging the cities, and slaying the population. Julian handled the difficult task of saving Gaul very successfully and defeated the Germans near Argentoratum (later Strassburg). Julian’s main seat in Gaul was in Lutetia (Lutetia Parisiorum, later Paris). At that time it was a small city on an island of the Seine, which still bears the name La Cité (Latin civitas), a city which was connected with both banks of the river by means of wooden bridges. On the left side of the Seine, already occupied by many houses and gardens, was the palace erected probably by Constantius Chlorus; the remains of it may still be seen near the Cluny Museum in Paris. Julian chose this palace as his residence. He was fond of Lutetia, and in one of his later works he recalled wintering in his “beloved Lutetia.”[72]

Julian was successful in driving the Germans across the Rhine. “Three times, while I was still Caesar,” he wrote, “I crossed the Rhine; twenty thousand persons who were held as captives on the farther side of the Rhine I demanded and received back … I have now with the help of the gods recovered all the towns, and by that time I had already recovered almost forty.”[73] Among his soldiers Julian inspired great love and admiration.

Constantius regarded the success of Julian with suspicion and envy. While undertaking the Persian campaign he demanded that Julian send him a reinforcement of legions from Gaul. The Gallic soldiers revolted against this demand and, lifting Julian upon a shield, they proclaimed him Augustus. The new Augustus demanded that Constantius recognize the fait accompli, but Constantius refused to do so. A civil war seemed to be unavoidable. But just at this time Constantius died. In the year 361 Julian was recognized as Emperor throughout the Empire. The adherents and favorites of Constantius were condemned to harsh punishments and persecution instigated by the new Emperor.

Julian for a long time had been an enthusiastic adherent of paganism, but he was forced to hide his religious convictions until the death of Constantius. Upon becoming the full master of the Empire, he set out to realize his sacred dream of restoring his favorite religion. During the first weeks following his ascent to the throne, Julian issued an edict in connection with his cherished plan. The historian Ammianus Marcellinus described this period:

Although from his earliest childhood, Julian inclined to the worship of the gods, and gradually, as he grew up, became more attached to it, yet he was influenced by many apprehensions which made him act in things relating to that subject as secretly as he could. But when his fears were terminated, and he found himself at liberty to do what he pleased, he then showed his secret inclinations, and by plain and positive decree ordered the temples to be opened, and victims to be brought to the altars for the worship of the gods.[74]

This edict was not unexpected, for everyone knew of Julian’s leaning toward paganism.

The joy of the pagans knew no bounds; to them the restoration of paganism meant not only religious freedom but religious victory as well.

At the time of Julian’s accession there was not a single pagan temple in Constantinople itself, and since it was impossible to erect temples in a short period of time, it is very likely that Julian performed his solemn offering of sacrifices in the main basilica, originally intended for promenades and conferences and decorated since the time of Constantine the Great by the statue of Fortuna. According to the church historian Sozomen, the following incident took place in the basilica: An aged blind man led by a child approached the Emperor and publicly called him an irreligious man, an atheist, and an apostate. Julian answered to this: “Thou art blind, and the Galilean, thy God, will not cure thee.” The aged man answered, “I thank God for my blindness, since it prevents me from beholding thy impiety.” Julian passed by this daring remark without any comment and continued the offering of sacrifices.[75]

In proposing to revive paganism Julian was fully aware that it was impossible to restore it in its former purely material form; it was necessary to reform and improve paganism in many respects in order to create an organization capable of combating the Christian church. For this purpose the Emperor decided to borrow many elements from the Christian organization, with which he was well acquainted. He organized the pagan priesthood along the principles of the hierarchy of the Christian church; the interiors of pagan temples were arranged according to the examples set by Christian temples; the pagans were to conduct discourses and read about the mysteries of Hellenic wisdom (this compared with the Christian sermons); singing was introduced into pagan services; an irreproachable mode of living was demanded of priests; orders were threatened with excommunication and penance. In other words, in order to revive and adapt the restored paganism, Julian turned to a source which he despised deeply.

The number of beasts sacrificed on the altars of the gods was so great that it called forth doubt and a certain amount of jest even among the pagans. The Emperor himself took an active part in the offering of sacrifices and did not abhor even the lowest menial labor connected with these performances. According to Libanius, he ran around the altar, kindled the fire, handled the knife, slaughtered the birds, and knew all about their entrails.[76] In connection with the unusually large number of animals used for sacrifices, the epigram once directed toward another emperor, the philosopher Marcus Aurelius, became current again: “The white cattle to Marcus Caesar, greeting! If you conquer there is an end of us.”[77]

This apparent triumph of paganism was bound to affect strongly the position of the Christians in the Empire. At first it seemed that no serious menace was threatening Christianity. Julian invited the dissenting leaders of various religious parties and their congregations to the palace and announced that now, civil strifes having been ended, every man could follow his chosen religion without any impediment or fear. Thus a proclamation of religious tolerance was one of the first acts of Julian’s independent rule. Sometimes the Christians would begin their disputes in the presence of Julian, and then the Emperor would say, in the words of Marcus Aurelius, “Listen to me, to whom the Alemanni and Franks have listened.”[78] Soon after Julian’s accession an edict recalled from exile all the bishops banished during the reign of Constantius, no matter what their religious convictions, and returned to them their confiscated property.

Because these religious leaders recalled from exile belonged to different religious parties and were irreconcilable in their opinions, they could not live peacefully side by side and soon became involved in very serious disputes. Apparently Julian had counted on just such a development. Although seemingly he granted religious freedom to all, Julian was well acquainted with the psychology of the Christians and felt certain that discord would follow immediately; a disunited Christian church could not be a serious menace to paganism. At the same time Julian offered great privileges to those who would consent to renounce Christianity. There were many cases of such apostasy. St.

Jerome called this policy of Julian “a gentle persecution, which attracted rather than forced people to join in the offering of sacrifices.”[79]

Meanwhile, Christians were being gradually removed from civil and military posts and their places were being taken by pagans. The famous labarum of Constantine, which served as the standard in the army, was abolished, and the shining crosses on the soldiers’ shields were replaced with pagan emblems.

But the act which dealt Christianity the most painful blow was Julian’s school reform. The first edict concerned the appointment of professors in the leading cities of the Empire. The candidates were to be elected by the cities, but each choice was to be submitted to the Emperor for approval. The latter could thus refuse to sanction the election of any professor he disliked. Formerly the appointment of professors had been within the jurisdiction of the city. Still more important was a second decree, preserved in the letters of Julian. It stated that “all who profess to teach anything whatever must be men of upright character and must not harbor in their souls opinions irreconcilable with the spirit of the state.” By “the spirit of the state”[80] this decree meant the paganistic tendencies of the Emperor himself. In this order Julian declared it absurd that men who expounded the works of Homer, Hesiod, Demosthenes, Herodotus, and other classical writers should dishonor the gods whom these writers honored: I give them this choice, either not to teach what they do not think admirable, or, if they wish to teach, let them first really persuade their pupils that neither Homer nor Hesiod nor any of these writers whom they expound and have declared to be guilty of impiety, folly, and error in regard to the gods, is such as they declare. For since they make a livelihood and receive pay from the works of these writers, they thereby confess that they are most shamefully greedy of gain, and that, for the sake of a few drachmae, they would put up with anything. It is true that, until now, there were many excused for not attending the temples, and the terror that threatened on all sides absolved men for concealing the truest beliefs about the gods. But since the gods have granted us liberty, it seems to me absurd that men should teach what they do not believe to be sound. But if they believe that those whose interpreters they are and for whom they sit, so to speak, in the seat of the prophets, were wise men, let them be the first to emulate their piety toward the gods. If, however, they think that those writers were in error with respect to the most honored gods, let them betake themselves to the churches of the Galilaeans to expound Matthew and Luke … Such is the general ordinance for religious and secular teachers … Though indeed it might be proper to cure these, even against their will, as one cures the insane, except that we concede indulgence to all for this sort of disease. For we ought, I think, to teach, but not punish, the demented.”[81]

Ammianus Marcellinus, a friend of Julian and his companion in military campaigns, explained briefly this edict; “[Julian] forbade the Christian masters of rhetorical grammar to teach unless they came over to the worship of the gods,”[82] in other words, unless they became pagans. On the basis of references made by some of the Christian writers of that time, some people suppose that Julian issued a second decree forbidding Christians not only to teach but even to study in the public schools. St.

Augustine wrote: “And did not Julian, who forbade the Christians to teach and study the liberal arts (liberales litteras), persecute the church?”[83] But the text of the second decree has not been preserved; it is possible that such a decree was never issued, especially since the first decree forbidding the Christians to teach indirectly involved the restriction upon study. After the publication of the teaching edict the Christians could send their children only to grammar and rhetorical schools with pagan teaching, and from that the majority of Christians abstained because they feared that within one or two generations of pagan instruction Christian youth might return to paganism. On the other hand, if Christians were not to receive a general education, they were bound to become the intellectual inferiors of the pagans. Thus Julian’s decree, even if there was only one, was of extreme significance to the Christians, since it greatly endangered the future of Christianity. Gibbon quite justly remarked: “The Christians were directly forbidden to teach; they were also indirectly forbidden to study, since they could not

[morally] attend pagan schools.”[84]

An overwhelmingly large majority of the Christian rhetoricians and

grammarians preferred to abandon their profession rather than turn back to paganism.

Even among the pagans the attitude toward Julian’s edict varied. The pagan writer Ammianus Marcellinus wrote concerning this: “But Julian’s forbidding masters of rhetoric and grammar to instruct Christians was a cruel action, and one deserving to be buried in everlasting silence.”[85]

It is interesting to note how the Christians reacted to this edict. Some of them naively rejoiced that the Emperor made it more difficult for the faithful ones to study the pagan writers. In order to replace the forbidden pagan literature, the Christian writers of that period, especially Apollinarius the Elder and Apollinarius the Younger, father and son, proposed to create for use in the school, a new literature of their own.

With this aim in view, they translated the Psalms into forms similar to the odes of Pindar; the Pentateuch of Moses they rendered into hexameter; the Gospels were rewritten in the style of Plato’s dialogues. Of this sudden literature, which could not possess any genuine artistic qualities, nothing has survived. It disappeared immediately after Julian’s death, when his decree lost its significance.

In the summer of 362 Julian undertook a Journey through the eastern provinces and stopped at Antioch, where the population, according to Julian himself, “have chosen atheism,”[86] that is, Christianity. The predominance of Christians explains why in the triumphal official reception accorded the Emperor at Antioch there was felt, and at times manifested, a certain coldness and even hatred. Julian’s stay at Antioch is very significant, because it convinced him of the difficulty, and even impossibility, of restoring paganism. The Syrian capital remained completely unmoved by the religious sympathies of the visiting Emperor. Julian told the story of his visit in his satirical work, Misopogon, or Beardhater.[87] During an important pagan holiday he expected to see at the temple of Apollo, in the Antioch suburb of Daphne, a large crowd of people, beasts for sacrifice, libations, incense, and other attributes of a pagan festival. Upon entering the temple, he found, to his great astonishment, only one priest with a single goose for sacrifice. In Julian’s version:

In the tenth month, according to your reckoning — Loos, I think you call it — there is a festival founded by your forefathers in honor of this god [Helios, Sun God, Apollo], and it was your duty to be zealous in visiting Daphne. Accordingly, I hastened thither from the temple of Zeus Kasios, thinking that at Daphne, if anywhere, I should enjoy the sight of your wealth and public spirit. And I imagined in my own mind the sort of procession it would be, like a man seeing visions in a dream, beasts for sacrifice, libations, choruses in honor of the god, incense, and the youths of your city there surrounding the shrine, their souls adorned with all holiness and themselves attired in white and splendid raiment. But when I entered the shrine I found there no incense, not so much as a cake, not a single beast for sacrifice. For the moment I was amazed and thought that I was still outside the shrine and that you were waiting the signal from me, doing me that honor because I am supreme pontiff. But when I began to inquire what sacrifice the city intended to offer to celebrate the annual festival in honor of the god, the priest answered, “I have brought with me from my own house a goose as an offering to the god, but the city this time has made no preparations.”[88]

Thus Antioch failed to respond to this festival occasion. Similar occurrences provoked Julian’s hatred against the Christians. His irritation grew still stronger when a sudden fire broke out in the temple of Daphne. Naturally the Christians were suspected of setting the temple on fire. Greatly provoked by this calamity, Julian ordered that the Christians should be punished by the closing of the main church of Antioch, which was immediately robbed of its treasures and subjected to sacrilege. This example was followed by many other cities. Conditions were becoming very grave. The Christians in their turn destroyed images of the gods. Some of the Christian leaders suffered martyrdom. Complete anarchy menaced the Empire.

In the spring of 363 Julian left Antioch and started out on his Persian campaign, during which he was mortally wounded by a spear. He died shortly after being transported to his tent. No one knew exactly who struck the fatal blow, and later many versions of this incident became current. Among them, of course, was the version that the Emperor was killed by the Christians. Christian historians, however, relate the well-known legend “that the Emperor threw a handful of his own blood [from his wound]

into the air and exclaimed, ‘Thou hast conquered. Oh, Galilaean!”[89]

His army generals and close friends gathered about the dying Emperor in his tent and Julian addressed to them his farewell message. This speech is preserved in the writings of Ammianus Marcellinus (xxv, 3, 15-20). While anticipating his death with philosophical calmness, the Emperor presented a defense of his life and actions, and, feeling that his strength was ebbing, he expressed the hope that a good sovereign might be found to take his place. However, he did not name any successor. Noticing that all around him were weeping, he reproved them with still undiminished authority, saying that it was humiliating to mourn for an emperor who was just united to heaven and the stars. He died at midnight, on June 26, in the year 363, at the age of thirty-two.

The famous rhetorician Libanius compared the death of Julian to the death of Socrates.[90]

The army proclaimed as emperor the head of the court guards, Jovian, a

Christian of the Nicene Creed. Forced by the king of Persia, Jovian had to sign a peace treaty according to which Persia obtained several provinces on the eastern bank of the Tigris, The death of Julian was greeted with joy by the Christians. Christian writers named the Emperor “dragon,” “Nebuchadnezzar,” “Herod,” and “monster.” But he was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles in a porphyry sarcophagus.

Julian left a number of writings which afford an opportunity to become more closely acquainted with him. The center of Julian’s religious convictions was the cult of the sun, which was created under the direct influence of the cult of the bright god, Mithras, and the ideas of a degenerated Platonism. From his very early childhood Julian loved nature, especially the sky. In his discourse on the “King Sun,”[91] the main source for his religious philosophy, he wrote that from early childhood an extraordinary longing for the rays of the divine planet penetrated deep into his soul. And not only did he desire to gaze intently at the sun in the daytime, but on clear nights he would abandon all else without exception and give himself up to the beauties of the heavens.

Absorbed in his meditations he would not hear those who spoke to him and would at times be unconscious of what he himself was doing. According to Julian’s own rather obscure account of his religious theories, his religious philosophy reduced itself to a belief in the existence of three worlds in the form of three suns. The first sun is the supreme sun, the idea of all being, the spiritual intelligible (νοητος) whole; it is the embodiment of absolute truth, the kingdom of supreme principles and first causes. The visible world and the visible sun, i.e. the material world, is only a reflection of the first world, but not an immediate reflection. Between these two worlds, the intelligible and the material, there lies the intellectual (νοερος) world with a sun of its own. Thus, a triad of suns is formed: the intelligible or spiritual, the intellectual, and the material.

The intellectual world is a reflection of the intelligible or spiritual and in its turn serves as an example for the material world, which is thus only a reflection of a reflection, an inferior reproduction of the absolute model. The supreme sun is too inaccessible for man. The sun of the physical is too material for deification. Therefore Julian concentrated all his attention on the central intellectual sun. He called it the “King Sun” and adored it.

In spite of his enthusiasm, Julian understood that the restoration of paganism involved many great difficulties. In one of his letters he wrote: “I need many to help me to raise up again what has fallen on evil days.”[92] But Julian did not understand that the fallen paganism could not rise again because it was dead. His undertaking was doomed to failure. “His schemes,” Boissier said, “could afford to be wrecked; the world had nothing to lose by their failure.”[93] “This enthusiastic philhellen,” Geffcken wrote, is half Oriental and ‘Frühbyzantiner.’”[94] Another biographer said, “The Emperor Julian seems as a fugitive and luminous apparition on the horizon beneath which had already disappeared the star of that Greece which to him was the Holy Land of civilization, the mother of all that was good and beautiful in the world, of that Greece which, with filial and enthusiastic devotion, he called his only true country.”[95]

The Church and the state at the end of the fourth century

Theodosius the Great and the triumph of Christianity. — During the reign of Julian’s successor, Jovian (363-64), a devoted follower of the Nicene Creed, Christianity was restored to its former position. This did not involve new persecutions of the pagans, however, whose fears on this account at the time of Jovian’s succession proved to be unfounded. Jovian intended to establish throughout the empire the order which had existed before Julian. He proclaimed complete religious toleration. He allowed the pagans to reopen their temples and continue the offering of sacrifices. In spite of his adherence to the Nicene doctrines, he undertook no compulsory legislation against the other ecclesiastical parties. Christian exiles of different sects returned from banishment. The labarum appeared again in the army. Jovian reigned only a few months, but his activity in the realm of ecclesiastical affairs made a strong impression on his contemporaries. The Christian historian of the fifth century, Philostorgius, an Arian, remarked: “The Emperor Jovian restored the churches to their original uses, and set them free from all the vexatious persecutions inflicted on them, by the Apostate.”[96]

Jovian died suddenly in February, 364. He was succeeded by two brothers, Valentinian I (364-75) and Valens (364-78), who divided the rule of the Empire: Valentinian became the ruler of the western half of the Empire and Valens was authorized to govern the eastern half. The brothers differed greatly in their religious outlook. Valentinian followed the Nicene Creed; Valens was an Arian. But the Nicene allegiance of Valentinian did not make him intolerant of other creeds, and during his reign religious freedom was more secure and complete than before. At the beginning of his rule he issued a decree granting each man “the freedom of worshiping whatever his conscience dictated to him.”[97] Paganism was freely tolerated. Yet Valentinian showed that he was a Christian emperor by a number of measures; one of them restored all the privileges granted the clergy by Constantine the Great. Valens followed an entirely different policy. Upon declaring himself a follower of Arianism, he became intolerant of all other Christian doctrines, and though his persecutions were neither severe nor systematic, people in the eastern part of the Empire did go through a period of great fear and anxiety during his reign.

In the matter of external affairs the brothers were forced to face a very severe struggle with the Germans. Valens died prematurely during his campaign with the Goths. Valentinian was succeeded in the West by his sons, Gratian (375-83) and the child Valentinian II (375-92). After the death of Valens (378), Gratian appointed Theodosius as Augustus of the East and Illyricum.

Disregarding the young and irresolute Valentinian II, an Arian adherent, who played no important role in the internal policies of the Empire, the government under Gratian and Theodosius quite definitely forsook the policy of religious toleration and manifested a decided inclination toward the Nicene Creed. Of particular significance in this respect was the policy of the eastern ruler, Theodosius, surnamed “The Great”

(379-95), whose name is always associated with the triumph of Christianity. His decided preference for his chosen creed left no room for toleration of paganism.

The family of Theodosius came into the foreground in the second half of the century as a result of the efforts of the father of the Emperor, also named Theodosius, who was one of the brilliant army generals in the West during the reign of Valentinian I. Before his appointment to the high rank of Augustus, Theodosius was only slightly interested in Christian ideas; but in the year following his appointment he was baptized in Thessalonica by the bishop of the city, Ascholius, a Nicaean.

Theodosius has to face two difficult problems: (1) the establishment of unity within the Empire which was being torn asunder by the dissenting religious parties; and (2) the defense of the Empire against the steady advance of the German barbarians, the Goths, who at the time of Theodosius threatened the very existence of the Empire.

During the reign of Valens, Arianism played the dominant role. After the death of Valens, especially in the absence of a ruler during the short period preceding the election of Theodosius, religious disputes burst forth once more and at times assumed very crude forms. These disquieting movements were felt particularly in

Constantinople. The disputes on dogma, passing beyond the limited circle of the clergy, were taken up by all classes of society and were discussed even by the crowds in the streets. The problem of the nature of the Son of God had aroused heated discussions everywhere since the middle of the fourth century: in the cathedrals and churches, in the imperial palace, in the huts of hermits, in the squares and markets. Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, wrote, not without sarcasm, of the prevailing conditions in the second half of the fourth century: “Everything is full of those who are speaking of unintelligible things — streets, markets, squares, crossroads. I ask how many oboli I have to pay; in answer they are philosophizing on the born or unborn; I wish to know the price of bread; one answers: ‘The Father is greater than the Son;’ I inquire whether my bath is ready; one says, ‘The Son has been made out of nothing.’”[98]

By the time of the succession of Theodosius conditions had changed. Upon arriving in Constantinople, he proposed to the Arian bishop that he renounce Arianism and join the creed of Nicaea. The bishop, however, refused and preferred to leave the capital and live outside the city gates, where he continued to hold Arian meetings. All the churches in Constantinople were turned over to the Nicaeans.

Theodosius was confronted with the questions of regulating his relations with the heretics and pagans. Even in Constantine’s time the Catholic (i.e. universal) church (ecclesia catholica) had been contrasted with the heretics (haeretici). During the reign of Theodosius the distinction between a Catholic and a heretic was definitely established by law: a Catholic was an adherent of the Nicene Creed; followers of other religious tendencies were heretics. The pagans (pagani) were considered in a separate category.

After Theodosius had openly declared himself a follower of the Nicene Creed, he began his long and obstinate struggle with the pagans and heretics, inflicting upon them penalties which grew more harsh as time went on. By the decree of 380 A.D. only those who believed in the trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, as preached by the apostolic writings and the Gospels, were considered Catholic Christians; all others, “the mad and insane” people, who adhered to “the infamy of heretic doctrine,” had no right to call their meeting places churches and were subject to severe punishment.”[99]

According to one historian, this decree shows clearly that Theodosius “was the first of the emperors to regulate for his own sake, and not for the sake of the church, the body of Christian doctrine obligatory on his subjects.”[100] Theodosius issued several other decrees which definitely forbade the heretics to hold assemblies, either public or private; the right to assemble was reserved solely for the followers of the Nicene symbol, who were to take over all the churches in the capital and throughout the Empire. The civil rights of the heretics were greatly curtailed, especially those concerned with bequests and inheritance.

For all his partisanship, Theodosius was anxious to establish peace and harmony in the Christian church. For this purpose he convoked a council in the year 381 at Constantinople, in which only members of the eastern church participated. This council is known as the Second Ecumenical Council. Of no other ecumenical council is the information so inadequate. The proceedings (acts) of this one are unknown. For a while it was not even recognized as an ecumenical council; only in the year 451, at a later ecumenical council, was it officially sanctioned as such. The chief religious question discussed at the Second Ecumenical Council was the heresy of Macedonius, a semi-Arian who attempted to prove that the Holy Spirit was created. The council condemned the heresy of Macedonius, as well as a number of other heresies based upon Arianism; confirmed the declaration of the Nicene symbol about the Father and Son, adding to it the part about the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father; and adopted the teaching that the Holy Spirit is of one essence with the Father and the Son.

Because information about this council is so inadequate, some western European scholars are dubious as to the creed of Constantinople, which became not only the dominant creed, but the official symbol as well, for all Christian denominations, in spite of their divergence as to dogma. Some scholars have affirmed that this new creed was not and could not be the work of the second council, that it was apocryphal; others have tried to prove that this symbol was composed either before or after the second council. The majority of scholars, however, especially the Russian church historians, agree that the creed of Constantinople was actually framed by the Fathers of the second council, though it became widespread only after the victory of orthodoxy at the Council of Chalcedon.

The second council also established the rank of patriarch of Constantinople in relation to the bishop of Rome, The third canon of the council declares: “The bishop of Constantinople shall rank next to the bishop of Rome, because Constantinople is New Rome,” because of the political pre-eminence of the city as the capital of the Empire.

Patriarchs of older eastern sees objected to this exaltation of the patriarch of Constantinople.

The see of Constantinople was at that time occupied by Gregory of Nazianzus, the Theologian, who had played a very important role in the capital during the first years of the reign of Theodosius. He was unable to manage the numerous dissenting parties represented at the council and was later forced to withdraw from his see, leave the council, and depart from Constantinople. His place was taken by Nectarius, a man of the world, one of limited theological attainments, who knew how to keep on good terms with the Emperor. Nectarius became president of the council, which in the summer of the year 381 closed its sessions.

In his attitude toward the clergy at large, that is, the Catholic (Nicene) clergy, Theodosius was rather generous. He conserved and occasionally enlarged the privileges granted by some of his predecessors to the bishops and clergy, privileges regarding personal duties, court responsibilities, and the like. He took care, however, that all these privileges should not interfere with the interests of the government. Thus by one edict Theodosius imposed upon the church extraordinary government duties (extraordinaria munera).[101] The availability of the church as a refuge for criminals prosecuted by the government was greatly limited because of the frequent abuses of this privilege. In particular, people indebted to the government were forbidden to seek protection in the temples against debt collectors, and the clergy were prohibited from hiding them.[102]

Theodosius aimed to be the sole arbiter of the church affairs of the Empire, and on the whole he succeeded in this aim. In one instance, however, he came into serious conflict with one of the distinguished leaders of the western church, Ambrose, bishop of Mediolanum (Milan). Theodosius and Ambrose held diametrically opposed views on the relation between the church and the state: the former stood for the supremacy of the state over the church; the latter assumed that the church could not be subject to the temporal power.

The conflict centered about the massacres which took place in Thessalonica. In this rich and populous city a large number of Germanic troops were quartered, headed by a very tactless and inefficient commander who did nothing to prevent the violence of the soldiers. The city population, provoked by the German outrages, finally revolted and killed the commanding officers as well as many soldiers. The infuriated Theodosius, well disposed toward the Germans, who ranked high in his army, smote the citizens of Thessalonica with a bloody massacre, showing no mercy to sex or age; the Emperor’s orders were executed by the Germans. The horrible deed was not allowed to pass unpunished. Ambrose excommunicated Theodosius, who, in spite of his power, was forced publicly to acknowledge his own guilt and then to observe humbly the penance imposed by Ambrose, who forbade him to wear the imperial regalia during the period of atonement.

During the merciless struggle with the heretics, Theodosius took decisive steps also against the pagans. Several decrees prohibited the offering of sacrifices, the divinations by the entrails of animals, and the visiting of the temples. In effect this amounted to the closing of many pagan temples, some of which were then used for government purposes, while others were almost completely destroyed, and all their rich treasures of art demolished by the fanatical mob. The destruction of the famous temple of the god Serapis, the Serapeum, which still remained the center of pagan worship in the city of Alexandria, is particularly significant. The last decree against the pagans was issued by Theodosius in the year 392. It prohibited completely the offering of sacrifices, burning of incense, hanging of garlands, libations, divinations, and so forth. It also declared all who disobeyed these orders guilty of offense against the Emperor and religion and liable therefore to severe penalties. This decree referred to the old religion as “a pagan superstition” (gentilicia superstitio).[103]

One historian called this edict of 392 “the funeral song of paganism.”[104] It was the last step taken by Theodosius in his war upon paganism in the East. In the western part of the Empire a particularly well-known episode during the struggle of Gratian, Valentinian II, and Theodosius against paganism centered about the removal of the Altar of Victory from the Roman Senate. The altar had been removed during Constantine’s reign, but had been restored by Julian the Apostate. The senators, who were still half pagan, viewed this forced removal of the altar as the final ruin of the former greatness of Rome. The famous pagan orator, Symmachus, was sent to the Emperor with a plea for the restoration of the statue to the Senate. Th. I. Uspensky spoke of this plea as “the last song of a dying paganism which timidly and mournfully begged mercy of the young Emperor (Valentinian II) for the faith to which his ancestors were indebted for their fame, and Rome for its greatness.”[105] Symmachus did not succeed in his mission. The year 393 saw the last celebration of the Olympic games. Among other monuments of antiquity, the statue of Zeus, the work of Phidias, was transferred from Olympia to Constantinople.

The religious policy of Theodosius, therefore, differed greatly from that of his predecessors, who, while favoring some one Christian party or paganism (as did Julian), still followed to some extent a policy of toleration toward other religious groups; de jure parity of religious beliefs still persisted. But by designating the Nicene Creed as the only legal creed, Theodosius laid an absolute veto upon all other tendencies in the Christian fold, as well as upon paganism. Theodosius was one of those emperors who believed that their authority should encompass the church and the religious life of their subjects. The aim of his life was to create a single Nicene church; but in spite of his efforts he did not succeed. Religious disputes, far from ceasing, only multiplied and spread very rapidly, making religious life in the fifth century most stormy and passionate. Over paganism Theodosius attained a complete triumph. Deprived of opportunity to avow its faith openly, paganism ceased to exist as an organized whole.

There were still pagans, of course; only as separate families or individuals did they cherish secretly the beloved past of their dying religion. The famous pagan school at Athens, however, was not affected by any of the decrees of Theodosius; it continued its work of spreading the knowledge of classical literature among its students.

The German (Gothic) problem in the fourth century. — The Gothic question was the most acute problem of the Empire at the end of the fourth century. For reasons still unknown the Goths, who at the opening of the Christian era had occupied the southern shore of the Baltic Sea, migrated, probably in the latter part of the second century, further south into the territory of present-day Southern Russia. They reached as far as the shores of the Black Sea and settled in the districts between the Don and lower Danube. The Dniester divided the Goths into two tribes: the eastern Goths, otherwise named Ostrogoths or Ostgoths, and the western Goths, or Visigoths. Like all other Germanic tribes of this period, the Goths were barbarians. In their new territory they found themselves under very favorable cultural conditions. The northern shore of the Black Sea for a long time before the Christian era, had been covered with numerous rich Greek colonies, whose cultural level was very high. Their influence, as proved by archeological data, reached out far into the north, and was felt even centuries later during the early Christian period. At the time of the Gothic migration to the shores of the Black Sea, the Crimea was occupied by the rich and civilized kingdom of the Bosporus. Through contact with these old Greek colonies and the kingdom of the Bosporus, the Goths became acquainted with the classical culture of antiquity, while by continuous proximity to the Roman Empire in the Balkan peninsula they came in touch with more recent developments of civilization. As a result of these influences, the Goths, when later they appeared in western Europe, were culturally superior to all the other Germanic tribes, who entered their historical life in the West in a state of complete barbarism.

During the third century, following their settlement in the south near the Black Sea, the Goths directed their activities along two distinct paths: on the one hand, they were attracted by the sea and the possibilities it offered for raiding the cities along its shores; on the other hand, in the southwest, the Goths reached the borders of the Roman Empire on the Danube and came in contact with the Empire.

The Goths first gained a hold on the north shore of the Black Sea, and then, in the third century A.D., they invaded the greater part of the Crimea and the kingdom of the Bosporus. In the second half of the third century they undertook a number of piratical raids, using Bosporian vessels. They repeatedly robbed the rich coastland of the Caucasus and Asia Minor. By following the western shore of the Black Sea they entered the Danube, and crossing the sea, they even made their way, by the Bosphorus, to the Propontis (Sea of Marmora), and through the Hellespont (the Dardanelles) into the Archipelago. On these raids they pillaged Byzantium, Chrysopolis (on the Asiatic side facing Byzantium; Scutari at present), Cyzicus, Nicomedia, and the islands of the Archipelago. The Gothic pirates went even farther than this: they attacked Ephesus and Thessalonica, and upon reaching the Greek shores they sacked Argos, Corinth, and probably even Athens. Fortunately, however, the invaluable monuments of classical art in Athens were spared. The islands of Crete, Rhodes, and even far-removed Cyprus suffered from several Gothic attacks. Still, in all these expeditions by sea, they contented themselves with pillage, after which the Gothic vessels would return to their homes on the northern shores of the Black Sea. Many of these bands of sea robbers were either exterminated on foreign shores or captured by Roman troops.

Far more serious were the relations of the Goths with the Empire on land. Taking advantage of the troubles and anarchy in the Empire in the third century, the Goths began to cross the Danube and to enter the territory of the Empire as early as the first half of that century. The Emperor Gordian was forced to pay the Goths an annual tribute. But even this did not suffice. A short while later the Goths again entered Roman territory and swarmed over Macedonia and Thrace. The Emperor Decius marched against them and fell in battle in the year 251. In 269 Claudius succeeded in defeating the Goths near Naissus (Nish). Of the large number of prisoners captured during this battle, some were placed in the army, while others were made to settle as coloni in the depopulated Roman provinces. For this victory over the Goths, Claudius was surnamed

“the Gothic” (Gothicus). But Aurelian, who had temporarily restored the Empire (270-75), was forced to give up Dacia to the barbarians and transfer its population to Moesia.

In the fourth century there are frequent references to Goths in the army. According to the historian Jordanes, a division of Goths served the Romans faithfully during the reign of Maximian.”[106] It is well known that the Goths in the army of Constantine the Great helped him in his struggle with Licinius. In Constantine’s time the Visigoths agreed to furnish the Emperor with 40,000 soldiers. There was also a Gothic regiment in the army of Julian.

In the third century Christianity began to spread among the Goths; it was most probably imported by Christian prisoners captured in Asia Minor during the numerous sea raids. The Gothic Christians were even represented at the First Ecumenical Council in Nicaea by their bishop, Theophilus, one of the signers of the Nicene symbol. The true enlightener of the Goths on the Danube during the fourth century was Ulfila (Vulfila), supposed by some to be of Greek extraction, but born on Gothic soil. He had spent a number of years in Constantinople, where he was later ordained bishop by an Arian bishop. When he returned to the Goths he preached Christianity according to the Arian doctrine for a number of years. In order to introduce the Gospels among his people he invented a Gothic alphabet, based in part on the Greek letters, and translated the Bible into the Gothic language. The spread of Arian Christianity among the Goths was of great significance for their subsequent historical life, for during the period of their settlement on the territory of the Roman Empire it was this difference in religious convictions which prevented them from blending with the natives, who were followers of the Nicene Creed. The Crimean Goths remained orthodox.

Peaceful relations between the Goths and the Empire ceased in the year 376 with the advance of the Huns from Asia. They were a savage people of Mongolian race.[107]

In their onward march to the West they defeated the east Goths, or Ostrogoths, and with them advanced farther, reaching the territory occupied by the Visigoths, The latter, exposed as a border nation to the full force of the attack and unable to offer adequate resistance to the Huns, whose horrible massacres did not even spare the Gothic women and children, had to force their way across the border into the territory of the Roman Empire. The sources relate that the Goths stood on the northern bank of the Danube and with loud lamentations entreated the Roman authorities to permit them to cross the river. The barbarians offered to settle in Thrace and Moesia and till the soil, and promised to furnish soldiers for the army and to obey all commands of the Emperor just as his subjects did. A delegation was sent to the Emperor to state the case of the Goths. The majority of high Roman officials and generals were in favor of accepting the Goths, for they recognized all the advantages the government would gain by doing so. First, they thought it a good way of rehabilitating the farming districts and the army. Then, too, the new subjects would defend the Empire, while the old inhabitants of the provinces could be exempted from military service by the payment of a money tax, which would greatly increase the government income. The men in favor of admitting the Goths were victorious, and the barbarians received official permission to cross the Danube. “Thus,” said Fustel de Coulanges, “four or five hundred thousand barbarians, half of whom could handle arms, were admitted to the territory of the Empire.”[108] Even if the foregoing figure be considered an exaggeration, the fact still remains that the number of Goths who settled in Moesia was very large. At first these barbarians led a very peaceful life, but gradually they became dissatisfied and irritated because of the peculations of the generals and officials, who made a practice of concealing part of the funds assigned for the needs of the settlers. Not only did these high officials feed the Goths poorly, but they also mistreated the men, insulted their wives, and offended their children. Many of the Goths were shipped across the sea and settled in Asia Minor. The complaints of the Goths received no attention, and the barbarians finally revolted. They obtained the help of Alans and Huns, forced their way into Thrace, and headed for Constantinople. At that time the Emperor Valens was carrying on a campaign with Persia, but when the news of the Gothic revolt reached him he left Antioch and arrived at Constantinople promptly. A decisive battle took place near Hadrianople in the year 378, in which Valens was killed and the Roman army completely defeated.

The road to the capital apparently lay open before the Goths, who overran the Balkan peninsula as far as the walls of Constantinople, but they evidently had no general plan of attacking the Empire, The successor of Valens, Theodosius, aided by his own Gothic troops, was successful in defeating and stopping their raids within the Empire. Thus, while one group of the Goths struggled against the Empire, the others were willing to serve in the imperial army and fight against men of their own tribe. The pagan historian of the fifth century, Zosimus, related that after the victory of Theodosius, “peace was established in Thrace, for the barbarians who had been there had perished.”[109] The victory of the Goths at Hadrianople did not aid them in becoming established in any one province of the Empire.

On the other hand, from this time forward the Germans began to influence the life of the Empire in a peaceful manner. Theodosius was fully aware that he could not master the barbarians within the Empire by force, and he decided to follow a policy of peaceful relations with the Goths, to introduce among them certain elements of Roman culture, and to draw them into the ranks of the Roman army. In the course of time the army, whose duty it was to defend the Empire, was gradually transformed in its greater part into a German army, whose members often had to defend the Empire against their own kinsmen. Gothic influence was felt in higher military circles as well as in the administration. Many very responsible posts were in German hands. Theodosius, in following his Germanophile policy, failed to realize that a free growth of Germanism might menace the Empire’s existence. He showed particular lack of wisdom in placing the defense of the Empire in the hands of the Germans, In due time the Goths assimilated the Roman art of warfare, Roman tactics and methods of combat, and were rapidly growing into a powerful force which could at any moment challenge the Empire. The native Greco-Roman population, forced into the background, watched the growth of German power with restlessness. An anti-German movement grew up, which might have led to very grave crises in the life of the Empire.

Theodosius died in the year 395 at Milan; his embalmed body was transferred to Constantinople and buried in the Temple of the Apostles. For his great service to Christianity in its struggle with paganism Theodosius was surnamed “the Great.” His too young and weak sons, Arcadius and Honorius, were proclaimed the rulers of the Empire; Arcadius became the emperor of the eastern part, and Honorius ruled in the West.

Theodosius did not succeed in solving the main problems of his period. The Second Ecumenical Council, by proclaiming the Nicene Creed the dominant form of Christianity, failed to achieve church unity. Arianism in its various manifestations continued to exist and in its further development caused new religious movements, which in the fifth century involved not only the religious interests of the Empire, but also connected with them, the social life of that period. This was particularly true of the eastern provinces, Syria and Egypt, where the new religious developments caused extremely significant consequences. In fact, Theodosius was forced during the later years of his life to recede from his original firm Nicene position. He was compelled to make concessions to the Arian Germans, who at the time formed the overwhelming majority in the army. Thus, in the religious field as well as in administrative and military realms, the Goths exerted great influence. The main center of their power was the capital itself, the Balkan peninsula, and part of Asia Minor. The eastern provinces, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, did not feel the Gothic power to any considerable extent.

Thus on religious as on racial grounds, the dissatisfaction of the native population was growing very strong. In short, Theodosius failed to solve the two significant problems of his reign: the creation of a unique and uniform church and the establishment of harmonious relations with the barbarians. These two exceedingly complicated problems remained for his successors.

Nationality and religion in the fifth century.— This epoch is of particularly great importance for the ways in which the main national and religious problems were met.

The national problem was concerned with the discord among the different nationalities within the Empire as well as the conflicts with the tribes attacking it from without.

Hellenism, it would seem, should have been the main force unifying the varied population of the eastern part of the Roman Empire, but in reality it was not.

Hellenistic influence could be found in the East as far as the Euphrates and in Egypt as early as the time of Alexander of Macedon and his successors. Alexander himself considered colonization one of the best means for transplanting Hellenism; it is said that he alone founded more than seventy cities in the East. His successors continued this policy of colonization. The areas to which Hellenism had spread to some extent reached as far as Armenia in the north and the Red Sea in the south and as far as Persia and Mesopotamia in the East. Beyond these provinces Hellenism did not reach. The main center of Hellenistic culture became the Egyptian city, Alexandria. All along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, in Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, Hellenic culture predominated. Of these three sections, Asia Minor was perhaps the most Hellenized; its coast had been occupied for a long period of time by Greek colonies, and their influence gradually, though not easily, penetrated into the interior of the region.

Hellenization of Syria, where Hellenic culture reached only the higher educated class, was much weaker. The mass of the population, unacquainted with the Greek language, continued to speak their own native tongues, Syriac or Arabic. One learned orientalist wrote: “If even in such a world-city as Antioch the common man still spoke Aramaic, i.e., Syriac, then one may safely suppose that inside the province the Greek language was not the language of the educated class, but only the language of those who made a special study of it.”[110] The Syrian-Roman Lawbook of the fifth century was striking proof of the fact that the native Syriac language was widely used in the East.[111] The oldest Syriac manuscript of this lawbook now in existence was written in the early part of the sixth century, before Justinian’s time. This Syriac text, which was probably written in northeastern Syria, is a translation from the Greek. The Greek original has not yet been discovered, but on the basis of some existing data it must have been written some time during the seventies of the fifth century. In any case the Syriac translation appeared almost immediately after the publication of the Greek original. In addition to the Syriac text there exist also Arabic and Armenian versions of the lawbook, which indicate that the book was very probably of church origin, since it analyzes with much detail the items of marriage and inheritance laws and boldly advances the privileges of the clergy. The fact that it was very widely distributed and applied to the living problems in the East, in the territory between Armenia and Egypt, as evidenced by the numerous versions of the lawbook as well as by the borrowings from it found in many Syriac and Arabic works of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, shows the continuing predominance of the native tongues. Later, when Justinian’s legislation became officially obligatory upon the whole Empire, his code proved to be too bulky and difficult of comprehension for the eastern provinces, so that in actual practice they continued to use the Syriac lawbook as a substitute for the codex. In the seventh century, following the Moslem conquest of the eastern provinces, the same Syriac lawbook was in wide use even under the Moslem domination. The fact that this lawbook was translated into Syriac as early as the second half of the fifth century indicates clearly that the mass of the people were still unacquainted with Greek or Latin and clung strongly to the native Syriac tongue.

In Egypt also, in spite of the proximity of Alexandria, the very center of world culture, Hellenism spread among the higher class only, among the people prominent in the social and religious life of the province. The mass of the people continued to speak their native Egyptian (Coptic) language.

The central government found it difficult to manage the affairs of the eastern provinces, not only because of the racially varied composition of the population, but also because the great majority of the population of Syria and Egypt and a certain part of eastern Asia Minor firmly held to Arianism with its subsequent ramifications. The complex racial problem became further complicated in the fifth century by important new developments in the religious life of these provinces.

In the western provinces of the Eastern Empire, that is in the Balkan peninsula, in the capital, and the western part of Asia Minor, the important problem of this period was that of Germanic power, which threatened the very existence of the Empire. After this problem was settled favorably for the government in the middle of the fifth century it seemed for a while that the savage Isaurians would occupy in the capital a commanding position similar to that of the Goths. In the East the struggle with the Persians continued, while in the northern part of the Balkan peninsula the Bulgarians, a people of Hunnic (Turkish) origin,[112] and the Slavs began their devastating attacks.

Arcadius (395-408).

Arcadius was only seventeen when he ascended the throne. He possessed neither the experience nor the force of will necessary for his high position, and he soon found himself completely overruled by his favorites, who directed the affairs of the Empire in a manner satisfactory to their own interests and the interests of their respective parties. The first influential favorite was Rufinus, appointed during Theodosius’

lifetime as general guide of Arcadius. Rufinus was soon murdered and two years later the eunuch Eutropius exerted the greatest influence upon the Emperor. The rapid rise of this new favorite was due primarily to his success in arranging the marriage of Arcadius and Eudoxia, the daughter of a Frank who served as an officer in the Roman army. Honorius, the younger brother of Arcadius, had been placed by his father under the guidance of the gifted chief, Stilicho, a true example of a Romanized Germanic barbarian, who had rendered great service to the Empire during its struggle with his own people.

The settlement of the Gothic problem. — The central issue for the government in the time of Arcadius was the Germanic problem. The Visigoths, who had settled during an earlier period in the northern part of the Balkan peninsula, were now headed by a new and ambitious chief, Alaric Balta. At the beginning of the reign of Arcadius, Alaric set out with his people for Moesia, Thrace, and Macedonia, threatening even the capital.

The diplomatic intervention of Rufinus brought about a change in Alaric’s original plan for attacking Constantinople. The attention of the Goths was directed to Greece. Alaric crossed Thessaly and advanced into Middle Greece by way of Thermopylae.

The population of Greece at that period was almost purely Greek and, on the whole, almost the same as Pausanias and Plutarch had known it. According to Gregorovius, the old language, religion, customs, and laws of the forefathers remained almost unchanged in the towns and villages. And in spite of the fact that Christianity had been officially pronounced the dominant religion, and the worship of the gods, condemned and forbidden by the state, was doomed to die out, ancient Greece still bore the spiritual and artistic impress of paganism, mainly because of the preservation of the monuments of antiquity.[113]

In their march through Greece the Goths pillaged and devastated Boeotia and Attica. The Athenian harbor, Peiraeus, was in their hands; fortunately they spared Athens. The pagan historian of the fifth century, Zosimus, narrated the legend of how Alaric, upon surrounding the Athenian walls with his army, beheld the goddess Athena Promachos in armor and the Trojan hero Achilles standing before the wall. So greatly astonished was Alaric by this apparition that he abandoned the idea of attacking Athens.[114] The Peloponnesus suffered greatly from the Gothic invasion, for the Visigoths sacked Corinth, Argos, Sparta, and several other cities. Stilicho undertook to defend Greece and landed with his troops in the Gulf of Corinth on the Isthmus, thus cutting off Alaric’s way back through Middle Greece. Alaric then pushed his way to the north into Epirus with great effort and against many difficulties. The Emperor Arcadius apparently was not ashamed to honor the man who had devastated the Greek provinces of the Empire with the military title of Master of Soldiers in Illyricum (Magister mihtum per Illyricum). After this Alaric ceased to threaten the eastern part of the Empire and directed his main attention to Italy.

In addition to the menace of the Goths in the Balkan peninsula and in Greece, the prevailing Gothic influence since the time of Theodosius the Great was felt particularly in the capital, where the most responsible army posts and many of the important administrative positions were in Germanic hands.

When Arcadius ascended the throne the most influential party in the capital was the Germanic party, headed by one of the outstanding generals of the imperial army, the Goth Gaïnas. About him were gathered soldiers of Gothic origin and representatives of the local pro-Germanic movement. The weakness of this party lay in the fact that the majority of the Goths were Arians. Second in strength, during the first years of Arcadius’ reign, was the party of the powerful eunuch, the favorite Eutropius. He was supported by various ambitious flatterers who were interested in him only because he was able to help them to promote their greedy personal interests. Gaïnas and Eutropius could not live side by side in peace, since they were competing for power. Besides these two political parties, historians speak of a third party, hostile to the Germans as well as to Eutropius; its membership included senators, ministers, and the majority of the clergy. This party represented the nationalist and religious ideology in opposition to the growing foreign and barbaric influence. This movement, naturally, refused to lend its support to the coarse and grasping Eutropius. The party’s main leader was the city prefect, Aurelian.[115]

Many people of the time were aware of the menace of Germanic dominance, and ultimately the government itself became conscious of it. A remarkable document has been preserved which describes vividly the reaction of certain social groups to the Germanic question. This document is the address of Synesius on “The Emperor’s Power,” or, as it is sometimes translated, “Concerning the Office of King,” which was presented, or perhaps even read, to Arcadius. Synesius, a native of the North African city of Cyrene, was an educated neo-Platonist who adopted Christianity, In the year 399

A.D. he set out for Constantinople to petition the Emperor for the remission of the taxes of his native city. Later, upon his return home, he was chosen bishop of the North African Ptolemaïs. During his three years’ stay at Constantinople, Synesius came to see very clearly the German menace to the Empire, and he composed the address, which, according to one historian, may be called the anti-German manifesto of the national party of Aurelian.[116] Synesius cautioned the Emperor:

The least pretext will be used by the armed [barbarians] to assume power and become the rulers of the citizens. And then the unarmed will have to fight with men well exercised in military combats. First of all, they [the foreigners] should be removed from commanding positions and deprived of senatorial rank; for what the Romans in ancient times considered of highest esteem has become dishonorable because of the influence o£ the foreigners. As in many other matters, so in this one, I am astonished at our folly.

In every more or less prosperous home we find a Scythian [Goth] slave; they serve as cooks and cupbearers; also those who walk along the street with little chairs on their backs and offer them to people who wish to rest in the open, are Scythians. But is it not exceedingly surprising that the very same light-haired barbarians with Euboic headdress, who in private life perform the function of servants, are our rulers in political life? The Emperor should purify the troops just as we purify a measure of wheat by separating the chaff and all other matter, which, if allowed to germinate, harms the good seed. Your father, because of his excessive compassion, received them

[the barbarians] kindly and condescendingly, gave them the rank of allies, conferred upon them political rights and honors, and endowed them with generous grants of land. But not as an act of kindness did these barbarians understand these noble deeds; they interpreted them as a sign of our weakness, which caused them to feel more haughty and conceited. By increasing the number of our native recruits and thus strengthening our own army and our courage, you must accomplish in the Empire the things which still need to be done. Persistence must be shown in dealing with these people. Either let these barbarians till the soil following the example of the ancient Messenians, who put down their arms and toiled as slaves for the Lacedaemonians, or let them go by the road they came, announcing to those who live on the other side of the river [Danube] that the Romans have no more kindness in them and that they are ruled by a noble youth![117]

What Synesius advocated, then, in the face of the Germanic menace to the government, was the expulsion of the Goths from the army, the formation of an indigenous army, and the establishment of the Goths as tillers of the soil. Should the Goths be unwilling to accept this program, Synesius suggested that the Romans should clear their territory of Goths by driving them back across the Danube, the place from which they originally came.

The most influential general in the imperial army, the Goth Gaïnas, could not view calmly the exclusive influence of the favorite, Eutropius, and an opportunity to act soon arose. At this time the Goths of Phrygia, who had been settled in this province of Asia Minor by Theodosius the Great, had risen in rebellion and were devastating the country under the leadership of their chief, Tribigild. Gaïnas, sent out against this dangerous rebel, later proved to be his secret ally. Joining hands with Tribigild, he deliberately arranged the defeat of the imperial troops sent out to suppress the revolt, and the two Goths became masters of the situation. They then presented to the Emperor a demand that Eutropius be removed and delivered into their hands.

Complaints against Eutropius were coming from Eudoxia, the wife of Arcadius, and from the party of Aurclian. Arcadius, pressed by the success of the Germans, was forced to yield. He sent Eutropius into exile (399 A.D.). But this did not satisfy the victorious Goths. They compelled the Emperor to bring Eutropius back to the capital and to have him tried and executed. This accomplished, Gaïnas demanded that the Emperor allow the Arian Goths to use one of the temples of the capital city for Arian services, A strong protest against this request came from the bishop of Constantinople, John Chrysostom (“the Golden-Mouthed”). Knowing that not only the entire capital but also the majority of the population of the Empire sided with the bishop, Gaïnas did not insist on this demand.

After gaining a stronghold in the capital, the Goths became complete masters of the fate of the Empire. Arcadius and the natives of the capital were fully aware of the danger of the situation. But Gaïnas, in spite of all his success, proved himself incapable of keeping his dominant position in Constantinople. While he was away from the capital a sudden revolt broke out in which many Goths were killed and he was unable to return to the capital. Arcadius, encouraged by the new course of events, sent against Gaïnas his loyal pagan Goth, Fravitta, who defeated Gaïnas at the time when he tried to sail across to Asia Minor. Gaïnas tried to find refuge in Thrace, but there he fell into the hands of the king of the Huns, who cut off his head and sent it as a gift to Arcadius.

Thus the Gothic menace was warded off through the efforts of a German, Fravitta, who was designated consul for this great service to the Empire. The Gothic problem at the beginning of the fifth century was finally settled in favor of the government. Eater efforts of the Goths to restore their former influence were of no great importance.

St. John Chrysostom. — Against the background of Germanic complications appeared the significant figure of the patriarch of Constantinople, John Chrysostom.[118] He was born in Antioch and studied with the famous rhetorician, Libanius, intending to follow a worldly career. He later forsook this idea and after his baptism devoted himself completely to preaching in Antioch, where he remained for a number of years as a presbyter. After the death of the patriarch Nectarius, Eutropius chose this preacher of Antioch, whose fame was already widespread, as the new patriarch. He was transported to the capital secretly for fear that the population of Antioch, devoted to their preacher, might oppose his departure. In spite of the intrigues of Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, John was consecrated bishop and given the see of the capital in the year 398. Thus the episcopal throne came into the hands of a man unusually accomplished in the art of oratory, an idealist whose actions were always in harmony with his theories, and an advocate of very severe moral principles. As a ruthless opponent of superfluous luxury and a firm defender of Nicene doctrines, John made many enemies among his flock. One of his most dangerous enemies was Empress Eudoxia, a lover of luxury and pleasure, whom John publicly denounced in his addresses. In his sermons he went so far as to compare her with Jezebel and Herodias.[119] His harsh policy toward the Arian Goths also earned him many enemies; it was he who strongly opposed the granting of one of the large churches of the capital to the Goths for their services. The Goths later became reconciled to the Emperor’s refusal, however, and continued to use the church allotted to them outside the city gates. John was very considerate of the orthodox Goths. He gave them one of the city churches, visited it very often, and held frequent conferences with them through an interpreter.

John’s earnest religious ideals, his unwillingness to compromise with anyone, and his harsh criticism of luxury gradually increased the number of his enemies. The Emperor himself soon fell under the influence of those who were opposed to the patriarch and openly expressed himself against John, This open opposition caused John to retire to Asia Minor, but the unrest among the masses in the capital which followed the departure of the beloved Patriarch forced the Emperor to recall him from exile. The new peace between the state and the Patriarch did not last very long, however. The inaugural ceremonies at the dedication of the statue to the Empress furnished a new occasion for a fiery speech in which John denounced the vices of the Empress. He was again deposed, and his followers, the Johannites, were severely persecuted. Finally, in the year 404, John was exiled to the Cappadocian city Cucusus, which he reached only after a long and strenuous journey, a city which he described as “the most deserted place in the universe.”[120] Three years later he was sent to a new place of exile on the distant eastern shore of the Black Sea, and he died on the journey. Thus ended the life of one of the most remarkable leaders of the eastern church in the early Middle Ages.

The pope and the Emperor of the West, Honorius, had both interceded in an attempt to stop the persecutions of John and the Johannites, but without success.

John left a rich literary treasure, containing a vivid picture of the social and religious life of his period. Personally he was one of the very few men who did not fear to speak out openly against the Arian pretensions of the all-powerful Gaïnas and he defended with conviction and steadiness the ideals of the apostolic church. He has been called one of the most beautiful moral examples humanity has ever had. “He was merciless to sin and full of mercy for the sinner.”[121]

Arcadius died in the year 408, when his wife, Eudoxia, was already dead and his son and successor, Theodosius, was only seven years old.

Theodosius II, the Younger (408-50).

According to some sources, Arcadius left a testament in which he appointed as guardian for his young successor the Persian king, Yezdegerd I, because he feared that the favorites at Constantinople might deprive Theodosius of the throne. The king of Persia devotedly fulfilled the office conferred upon him, and through one of his own loyal men he guarded Theodosius against the intrigues of the courtiers. Many scholars deny the authenticity of this story, but there is nothing intrinsically implausible about it, since similar instances occur in other periods of history, there seems to be no good reason for rejecting it.[122]

The harmonious relations between the two empires explain the unusually

favorable position of Christianity in Persia during the reign of Yezdegerd I. The Persian tradition, which reflects the state of mind of the Magi and nobles, calls Yezdegerd “the Apostate,” “the Wicked,” the friend of Rome and the Christians, and the persecutor of the Magi. But Christian sources praise him for his goodness, mildness, and munificence and at times claim that he was even at the point of becoming converted to Christianity.

In reality, however, Yezdegerd I, like Constantine the Great, appreciated how important the Christian element in his empire was to his political plans. In 409 he formally granted permission to the Christians to worship openly and to restore their churches. Some historians call this decree the Edict of Milan for the Assyrian Christian church.[123]

In 410 a council met at Seleucia at which the Christian church in Persia was organized. The bishop of Seleucia (Ctesiphon) was elected head of the church. He was given the title of “Catholicos,” and was to reside in the capital of the Persian Empire.

The members of the council made the following declaration: “We all unanimously implore our Merciful God that He increase the days of the victorious and illustrious king Yezdegerd, King of Kings, and that his years be prolonged for generations of generations and for ages of ages,”[124] The Christians did not enjoy complete freedom for long. Persecutions were renewed within the later years of Yezdegerd’s reign.

Theodosius II was not a gifted statesman, nor was he particularly interested in matters of government. Throughout his long reign he kept aloof from the actual affairs of government and led a solitary monastic life. Devoting most of his time to calligraphy, he copied many old manuscripts in his very beautiful handwriting.[125] But around Theodosius were very able and energetic people who contributed much to crowning his period with such important events in the internal life of the Empire that historians no longer look upon Theodosius as a weak and illfated emperor. One of the most influential persons during the reign of Theodosius was his sister, Pulcheria. It was she who arranged the marriage of Theodosius and Athenais (later baptized Eudocia), the daughter of an Athenian philosopher and a woman of high cultural attainment and some literary genius. Eudocia wrote a number of works, treating chiefly of religious topics, but reflecting also some contemporary political events.

In external struggles the eastern half of the Empire was more fortunate than the western half during the period of Theodosius II. No strenuous campaign had to be organized in the East, but the West was going through a very severe crisis because of the German migrations. The most terrific shock to the Romans was the entrance into Rome, former capital of the pagan Roman Empire, of the commander of the Visigoths, Alaric. Shortly afterwards the barbarians formed their first kingdoms on Roman territory in western Europe and northern Africa. The eastern part of the Empire was for a time endangered by the Huns, who attacked Byzantine territory and raided almost as far as the walls of Constantinople. Before friendly relations were established, the Emperor was forced to pay them a large sum of money and cede the territory south of the Danube. Later, however, an embassy headed by Maximin was sent from

Constantinople to Pannonia. His friend, Priscus, who accompanied him, wrote an extremely important and full account of the embassy, describing the court of Attila and many of the customs and manners of the Huns. This description is particularly valuable for the light it throws not only on the Huns but also on the Slavs of the Middle Danube whom the Huns had conquered.[126]

Theological disputes and the Third Ecumenical Council

The first two ecumenical councils definitely settled the question that Jesus Christ is both God and man. But this decision fell short of satisfying the probing theological minds haunted by the problem of how the union of the divine substance of Jesus Christ with his human nature was to be conceived. In Antioch at the end of the fourth century originated the teaching that there was no complete union of the two natures in Christ.

In its further developments this teaching attempted to prove the absolute independence of Christ’s human nature both before and after its union with the divine nature. As long as this doctrine remained within the confines of a limited circle of men it did not cause any serious disturbance in the church. But with the passing of the patriarchal throne of Constantinople to the Antiochene presbyter Nestorius, an ardent follower of this new teaching, conditions changed considerably, for he imposed the teaching of Antioch upon the church. Famous for his eloquence, he addressed the Emperor immediately after his consecration: “Give me, my prince, the earth purged of heretics, and I will give you heaven as a recompense. Assist me in destroying heretics, and I will assist you in vanquishing the Persians,”[127] By heretics Nestorius meant all those who did not share his views on the independence of the human nature in Jesus Christ. Nestorius’ name for the Virgin Mary was not the “Mother of God” but the

“Mother of Christ,” the “Mother of a man.”

Nestorius’ persecutions of his opponents aroused a great storm in the church.

Particularly strong was the protest by the Alexandrian patriarch, Cyril, and Pope Celestine, who condemned the new heretical teaching at a council gathered in Rome.

Theodosius, wishing to put an end to these church disputes, convoked at Ephesus the Third Ecumenical Council, which condemned the Nestorian doctrine in the year 431.

Nestorius was exiled to Egypt where he spent the remainder of his life.

The condemnation of Nestorianism did not end it; there still remained numerous followers of this teaching in Syria and Mesopotamia and the Emperor ordered the administration of these provinces to take severe measures against them. The main center of Nestorianism was Edessa, the home of the famous school which spread the ideas of Antioch. In the year 489, during the reign of Zeno, this school was destroyed and the teachers and pupils were driven out of the city. They went to Persia and founded a new school at Nisibis. The king of Persia gladly admitted the Nestorians and offered them his protection, for, since he considered them enemies of the Empire, he counted on using them to his advantage when an opportunity arose. The Persian church of the Nestorian or Syro-Chaldean Christians, was headed by a bishop who bore the title of Catholicos. From Persia, Christianity in its Nestorian form spread widely into central Asia and was accepted by a considerable number of followers in India.

The Council of Ephesus was followed in the Byzantine church itself, and in Alexandria in particular, by the development of new movements in opposition to Nestorianism. The followers of Cyril of Alexandria, while they believed in the preponderance of the divine nature over the human in Jesus Christ, arrived at the conclusion that the human was completely absorbed by the divine substance; hence Jesus Christ possessed but one—divine—nature. This new teaching was called Monophysitism, or the Monophysitic doctrine, and its followers are known as the Monophysites (from the Greek μονος, “one,” and φυσις, “nature”). Monophysitism made great progress with the aid of two ardent Monophysites, the Alexandrian bishop Dioscorus, and Eutyches, the archimandrite of a monastery in Constantinople. The Emperor sided with Dioscorus, whom he considered an advocate of the ideas of Cyril of Alexandria. The new teaching was opposed by the patriarch of Constantinople and by Pope Leo I the Great. Dioscorus then urged the Emperor to call a council in the year 449

at Ephesus, which is known as the “Robber Council.” The Alexandrian party of Monophysites headed by Dioscorus, who presided at the council, forced members of the council who did not agree with them to recognize the teaching of Eutyches (Monophysitism) as orthodox and to condemn the opponents of the new doctrine. The Emperor ratified the decisions of the council, officially recognizing it as an ecumenical council. Naturally the council failed to establish harmony in the church. A period of stormy disturbances followed, during which Theodosius died, leaving to his successors the solution of the problem of Monophysitism, highly important in Byzantine history.

Besides the stormy and significant religious events of the period of Theodosius there were a number of events in the internal life of the Empire which marked this epoch as historically important.

The higher school at Constantinople. — The organization of the higher school at Constantinople and the publication of the Theodosian Code, which took place during the reign of Theodosius, were both of great significance in the life of the Byzantine Empire.

Until the fifth century the city of Athens, the home of the famous philosophical school, was the main center of pagan teaching in the Roman Empire. Greek teachers of rhetoric and philosophy, better known as the sophists, came there from all parts of the Empire, some to display their knowledge and oratorical eloquence, others in hopes of obtaining good positions in the teaching profession. These teachers were supported partly from the imperial treasury, partly from the treasuries of the various cities.

Tutoring and lecturing were also better paid in Athens than elsewhere. The triumph of Christianity at the end of the fourth century dealt the Athenian school a heavy blow, and intellectual life there was also greatly affected at the very close of the century by the devastating advances of the Visigoths into Greece. Even after the departure of Alaric and the Visigoths, the Athenian school did not rise to its former position; the number of philosophers was greatly decreased. Most severe of all was the blow dealt the Athenian pagan school by the organization of the higher school, or university, in Constantinople.

When Constantinople became the capital of the Empire, many rhetoricians and philosophers came to the new city, so that even before Theodosius II a kind of high school may have existed there. Teachers and scholars were invited to Constantinople from Africa, Syria, and other places. St. Hieronymus remarked in his Chronicle (360-62

A.D): “Euanthius, the most learned grammarian, died at Constantinople, and in his place Charisius was brought from Africa.”[128] Accordingly a recent student of the problems of the higher schools in Constantinople in the Middle Ages says that under Theodosius II the higher school was not founded but reorganized.[129] In the year 425

Theodosius II issued a decree dealing with the organization of a higher school.”[130]

There were to be thirty-one professors teaching grammar, rhetoric, jurisprudence, and philosophy. Three rhetors (oratores) and ten grammarians were to conduct their teaching in Latin, and five rhetors or sophists (sofistae) and ten grammarians were to teach in Greek. In addition to this the decree provided for one chair for philosophy and two chairs for jurisprudence. While Latin still remained the official language of the Empire, the foundation of Greek chairs at the University indicates that the Emperor was beginning to see that in the new capital Greek had undeniable rights as the language most spoken and understood in the eastern part of the Empire. The number of Greek rhetors exceeded the number of Latin rhetors by two. The new higher school was given a separate building with large lecture rooms and auditoriums. The professors were forbidden to tutor anyone privately in their homes; they were to devote all their time and effort to teaching at the school. They were provided with a definite salary from the imperial exchequer and could advance to very high rank. This educational center at Constantinople became a dangerous rival of the Athenian pagan school, which was steadily declining. In the subsequent history of the Byzantine Empire the higher school of Theodosius II long stood as the center about which were assembled the best cultural forces of the Empire.

Codex Theodosianus. — From the period of Theodosius II also dates the oldest collection of decrees of Roman emperors which has been preserved. For a long time such a collection had been needed because the numerous separate decrees were easily forgotten and lost, thus introducing much confusion into the juridical practices of the day and creating many difficult situations for the jurists. There were two earlier collections of decrees, the Gregorian and the Hermogenian codes (Codex Gregorianus and Codex Hermogenianus), named perhaps after their authors, Gregory and Hermogenes, about whom little is known. The first collection dates back to the epoch of Diocletian and probably contained decrees from the period of Hadrian to that of Diocletian. The second collection, compiled during the reign of the successors of Diocletian in the fourth century, contained decrees dating from the late third century to the sixth decade of the fourth century. Neither of the two collections has survived; both are known only through the small fragments which have been preserved.

Theodosius’ idea was to issue a collection of laws modeled after the two earlier collections. It was to contain decrees issued by the Christian emperors from Constantine the Great to Theodosius II, inclusive. The commission appointed by the Emperor produced, after eight years’ work, the so-called Codex Theodosianus, in Latin.

It was published in the year 438 in the East and shortly afterwards it was introduced in the western part of the Empire. The code of Theodosius is divided into sixteen books, which in turn are subdivided into a definite number of titles (tituli). Each book treats of some phase of government, such as offices, military affairs, religious life. In each title the decrees are arranged in chronological order. The decrees which appeared after the publication of the code were called novels (leges novellae).[131]

The code of Theodosius is of very great historical importance. First, it is the most valuable source on the internal history of the fourth and fifth centuries. Since it also embraces the period when Christianity became the state religion, this legal collection may be considered as a sort of summary of what the new religion accomplished in the field of law and what changes it brought about in juridical practices. Furthermore, this code, together with the earlier collections, formed a solid foundation for the subsequent juridical activities of Justinian. Finally, the code of Theodosius, introduced in the West during the period of Germanic migrations, together with the two earlier codes, later novels, and a few other juridical monuments of imperial Rome (the Institutions of Gaius, for example), exerted great influence, both direct and indirect, upon barbarian legislation. The famous “Roman Law of the Visigoths” (Lex Romana Visithorum), intended for the Roman subjects of the Visigothic kingdom, is nothing more than an abridgment of the Theodosian code and the other sources mentioned. It is for this reason that the “Roman Law of the Visigoths” is also called the “Breviary of Alaric” (Breviarium Alaricianum) that is, an abridgment issued by the Visigoth king, Alaric II, in the early part of the sixth century. This is an instance of direct influence exerted by the code of Theodosius upon barbarian legislation. But stilt more frequent was its indirect influence through the Visigoth code. During the early Middle Ages, including the epoch of Charlemagne, western European legislation was influenced by the Breviarium, which became the chief source of Roman law in the West. This indicates clearly that Roman law at that period influenced western Europe but not through the code of Justinian, which spread in the West much later, sometime during the twelfth century. This fact is sometimes overlooked by scholars; and even such a distinguished historian as Fustel de Coulanges stated that “science has proved that Justinian’s collections of laws maintained their force in Gaul late into the Middle Ages.”[132] The influence of the code went still further, for the Breviarium of Alaric has apparently played some part in the history of Bulgaria. At least it is the opinion of the famous Croatian scholar, Bogišič, whose arguments were later developed and confirmed by the Bulgarian scholar, Bobtchev, that the Breviarium Alaricianum was sent by Pope Nicholas I to the Bulgarian king Boris, after he had petitioned the pope in the year 866 to send to Bulgaria “the mundane laws” (leges mundanae). In answer to this demand the pope, in his “Responses to the Consults of the Bulgarians” (Responsa papae Nicolai ad consulta Bulgarorum), announced that he was sending them the

“venerable laws of the Romans” (venerandae Romanorum leges), which Bogišič and Bobtchev considered to be the breviary of Alaric.[133] Even if this be so, the value of this code in the life of the ancient Bulgarians should not be exaggerated, because only a few years later Boris broke away from the Roman curia and drew nearer to Constantinople. But the mere fact that the pope sent the Breviarium may indicate its significance in European life during the ninth century. All these instances show clearly the great and widespread influence of the Codex Theodosianus.[134]

The walls of Constantinople. — Among the important events of the time of Theodosius was the construction of the walls of Constantinople. Constantine the Great had surrounded the new capital with a wall. By the time of Theodosius II the city had far outgrown the limits of this wall. It became necessary to devise new means for the defense of the city against the attacks of enemies. The fate of Rome, taken by Alaric in the year 410, became a serious warning for Constantinople, since it too was menaced in the first. half of the fifth century by the savage Huns.

The solution of this very difficult problem was undertaken by some of the gifted and energetic men of Theodosius’ court. The walls were built in two shifts. In 413, during the early childhood of Theodosius, the praetorian prefect, Anthemius, who was at that time regent, erected a wall with numerous towers which extended from the Sea of Marmora to the Golden Horn, somewhat to the west of Constantine’s wall. This new wall of Anthemius, which saved the capital from the attack of Attila, exists even today north of the Sea of Marmora as far as the ruins of the Byzantine palace known as the Tekfour Serai. After a violent earthquake which destroyed the wall, the praetorian prefect Constantine repaired it and also built around it another wall with many towers and surrounded with a deep ditch filled with water. Thus, on land, Constantinople had a threefold series of defenses, the two walls separated by a terrace and the deep ditch which surrounded the outer wall. Under the administration of Cyrus, prefect of the city, new walls were also constructed along the seashore. The two inscriptions on the walls dating back to this period, one Greek and the other Latin, speak of the building activities of Theodosius. They are still legible today. The name of Cyrus is also associated with the introduction of night illumination of the streets in the capital.[135]

Theodosius II died in the year 450. In spite of his weakness and lack of ability as a statesman, his long reign was very significant for subsequent history, especially from the cultural point of view. By a lucky choice of responsible officials, Theodosius succeeded in accomplishing great results. The higher school of Constantinople and the code of Theodosius still remain splendid monuments of the cultural movement in the first half of the fifth century. The city walls built during this period made Constantinople impregnable for many centuries to the enemies of the Byzantine Empire. N, H. Baynes remarked, “In some sense the walls of Constantinople represented for the East the gun and gunpowder, for lack of which the Empire in the West perished.”[136]

Marcian (450-57) and Leo I (457-74); Aspar.

Thedosius died leaving no heir. His aged sister Pulcheria agreed to become the nominal wife of Marcian, a Thracian by birth, who was later proclaimed Emperor.

Marcian was a very capable but modest soldier and rose to the throne only because of the entreaties of the influential general Aspar, of Alan descent.

The Gothic problem, which became a real menace to the state at the end of the fourth, and early part of the fifth century, was settled during the time of Arcadius in favor of the government. However, the Gothic element in the Byzantine army continued to be an influence in the Empire, though in a very reduced measure, and in the middle of the fifth century the barbarian Aspar, supported by the Goths, made a final effort to restore the former power of the Goths. He was successful for a while. Two emperors, Marcian and Leo I, were raised to the throne by the efforts of Aspar, whose Arian leanings were the only obstacle to his own accession to the throne. Once more the capital openly began to express its discontent with Aspar, his family, and the barbarian influence in the army in general. Two events aggravated the tension between the Goths and the population of the capital. The sea expedition to northern Africa against the Vandals, which Leo I undertook with great expenditure of money and effort, proved a complete failure. The population accused Aspar of treason because he had originally opposed it, naturally enough, since the purpose was to crush the Vandals, that is, the Germans. Aspar then obtained from Leo the rank of Caesar for his son, the highest rank in the Empire. The Emperor decided to free himself of Germanic power and with the aid of a number of warlike Isaurians quartered in the capital killed Aspar and part of his family, dealing a final blow to Germanic influence at the court of Constantinople. For these murders Leo I received from his contemporaries the name of Makelles, that is, “Butcher,” but the historian Th. I. Uspensky affirmed that this alone may justify the surname “Great” sometimes given Leo, since it was a significant step in the direction of nationalizing the army and weakening the dominance of barbarian troops.”[137]

The Huns, who constituted so great a menace to the Empire, moved at the

beginning of Marcian’s reign from the middle Danube to the western provinces of the Empire, where they later fought the famous Catalaunian battle. Shortly afterwards Attila died. His enormous empire fell to ruin so that the Hunnic danger to the Byzantine Empire disappeared in the latter years of Marcian’s reign.

The Fourth Ecumenical Council

Marcian inherited from his predecessor a very complicated state of affairs in the church. The Monophysites were now triumphant. Marcian, favoring the stand taken by the first two ecumenical councils, could not become reconciled to this triumph, and in the year 451 he called the Fourth Ecumenical Council, at Chalcedon, which proved to be of great importance for all subsequent history. The number of delegates to this council was very large and included legates representing the pope.

The council condemned the acts of the Robber Council of Ephesus and deposed Dioscorus. Then it worked out a new religious formula completely rejecting the doctrine of the Monophysites and wholly according with the views of the Pope of Rome. The Council affirmed “one and the same Christ in two natures without confusion or change, division or separation.” The dogmas approved by this Council of Chalcedon, triumphantly confirming the main doctrines of the first ecumenical councils, became the basis of the religious teachings of the orthodox church.

The decisions of the Council of Chalcedon were also of great political significance in Byzantine history. The Byzantine government, by openly opposing Monophysitism in the fifth century, alienated the eastern provinces, Syria and Egypt, where the majority of the population was Monophysitic. The Monophysites remained true to their religious doctrine even after the condemnations of the council of 451 and were unwilling to make any compromises. The Egyptian church abolished the use of Greek in its services and introduced the native Egyptian (Coptic) language. The religious disturbances in Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Antioch caused by the forced introduction of the decisions of the council assumed the character of serious national revolts and were suppressed by the civil and military authorities only after much bloodshed. The suppression of these revolts, however, did not settle the fundamental problems of the period. Against the background of the conflicting religious disputes, which became more and more acute, clearly defined racial contradictions, particularly in Syria and Egypt, began to appear. The Egyptian and Syrian native populations were gradually becoming convinced of the desirability of seceding from the Byzantine Empire. The religious disturbances in the eastern provinces, aided by the composition of the population, created toward the seventh century conditions which facilitated the transfer of these rich and civilized districts into the hands of first the Persians and later the Arabs.

The twenty-eighth canon of the Council of Chalcedon, which called forth a correspondence between the Emperor and the pope, was also of great importance.

Although not confirmed by the pope, this canon was generally accepted in the East. It raised the question of the rank of the patriarch of Constantinople in relation to the Pope of Rome, a question already decided by the third canon of the Second Ecumenical Council. Following this decision, the twenty-eighth canon of the Chalcedon council gave “equal privileges to the most holy throne of New Rome, rightly judging that the city which is honored with the Sovereignty and the Senate and enjoys equal privileges with the old Imperial Rome should in ecclesiastical matters also be magnified as she is, and rank next after her.”[138] Furthermore, the same canon granted the archbishop of Constantinople the right to ordain bishops for the provinces of Pontus, Asia, and Thrace, inhabited by people of various tribes. “It is sufficient to recall,” said Th. I.

Uspensky, “that these three names embraced all the Christian missions in the East, in southern Russia, and in the Balkan peninsula, as well as all those acquisitions of the eastern clergy which could eventually be made in the indicated districts. At least, this is the opinion of later Greek canonists who defended the rights of the Constantinopolitan patriarch. Such, in brief, is the universal historical significance of the twenty-eighth canon.”[139] Both Marcian and Leo I, then, were emperors of strict orthodox mind.

Zeno (474-91). Odovacar and Theodoric the Ostrogoth.

After the death of Leo I (474) the throne passed to his six-year-old grandson, Leo, who died in the same year, after conferring the imperial rank upon his father, Zeno.

Following the death of his son, Zeno became sole emperor (474-91). His accession to the throne marks the supplanting of the former Germanic influence at the court by a new barbarian influence, that of the Isaurians, a savage race of which he was a member. The Isaurians now occupied the best positions and most responsible posts in the capital.

Very soon Zeno became aware that even among his own people men were plotting against him, and he showed much determination in quelling the revolt in mountainous Isauria, ordering the inhabitants to pull down the greater part of their fortifications.

The dominance of Isaurians in the Empire continued, however, throughout Zeno’s lifetime.

During the period of Zeno’s reign very significant events took place in Italy. In the second half of the fifth century the importance of the leaders of German troops increased very greatly until their will was almost decisive in making and deposing Roman emperors in the West. In the year 476 one of these barbarian chiefs; Odovacar, deposed the last western emperor, the young Romulus Augustulus, and himself became the ruler of Italy. In order to make his rule in Italy more secure, he sent ambassadors to Zeno from the Roman Senate with the assurance that Italy needed no separate emperor and that Zeno might be the ruler of the entire Empire. At the same time Odovacar asked Zeno to confer upon him the rank of Roman patrician and to entrust to him the administration of Italy. This request was granted and Odovacar became the legally appointed ruler of Italy. The year 476 formerly was considered the year of the fall of the Western Roman Empire, but this is not correct, because in the fifth century there was still no separate Western Roman Empire. There was, as before, one Roman Empire ruled by two emperors, one in the eastern, the other in the western, part. In the year 476

there was again only one emperor in the Empire, namely Zeno, the ruler of the eastern part.

Upon becoming the ruler of Italy, Odovacar assumed an attitude of marked independence. Zeno was fully aware of it; unable to struggle against Odovacar openly, he decided to act through the Ostrogoths. The latter, after the collapse of the power of Attila, remained in Pannonia and, under the leadership of their king, Theodoric, carried on devastating raids in the Balkan peninsula, menacing even the capital of the Empire.

Zeno succeeded in directing the attention of Theodoric to the rich provinces of Italy, thus attaining a double aim: He got rid of his dangerous northern neighbors and settled his disagreements with the undesirable ruler of Italy through the efforts of an outside party. In any event, Theodoric in Italy was less of a menace to Zeno than he would have been had he remained in the Balkan peninsula.

Theodoric moved on to Italy, defeated Odovacar, seized his principal city, Ravenna, and after Zeno’s death, founded his Ostrogothic kingdom on Italian territory with the capital at Ravenna. The Balkan peninsula was thus definitely freed from the Ostrogothic menace.

The Henoticon.

The main internal problem during the reign of Zeno was the religious problem, which continued to cause many disturbances. In Egypt and Syria and to some extent in Palestine and Asia Minor, the population held firmly to the doctrine of one nature. The firm orthodox policy of the two emperors who preceded Zeno was little applauded in the eastern provinces. The leaders of the church were fully aware of the seriousness of the situation. The Patriarch of Constantinople, Acacius, who at first favored the decisions of Chalcedon, and the Patriarch of Alexandria, Peter Mongus, were particularly anxious to find some way of reconciling the dissenting parties in the church. They proposed to Zeno that he attempt to reach some mutual agreement by means of compromises on both sides. Zeno accepted this proposal and issued in 482 the Act of Union, or the Henoticon (ενωτικον), addressed to the churches subject to the Patriarch of Alexandria. In this act he tried above all to avoid any sign of disrespect toward either the orthodox or the Monophysitic teachings on the union in Jesus Christ of two natures, the divine and the human. The Henoticon recognized as entirely sufficient the religious foundations developed at the first and second ecumenical councils and ratified at the third council; it anathematized Nestorius and Eutyches, as well as all their followers, and stated that Jesus Christ was “of the same nature with the Father in the Godhead and also of the same nature with us in the manhood.” Yet it obviously avoided the use of the phrases “one nature” or “two natures” and did not mention the statement of the Council of Chalcedon in regard to the union of two natures in Christ. The Council of Chalcedon is mentioned in the Henoticon only once, in this statement: “And here we anathematize all who have held, or hold now or at any time, whether in Chalcedon or in any other synod whatsoever, any different belief.”[140]

At first the Henoticon seemed to improve conditions in Alexandria, but in the long run it failed to satisfy either the orthodox or the Monophysites. The former could not become reconciled to the concessions made to the Monophysites; the latter, in view of the lack of clarity in the statements of the Henoticon, considered the concessions insufficient, and new complications were thus introduced into the religious life of the Byzantine Empire. The number of religious parties increased. Part of the clergy favored the idea of reconciliation and supported the Act of Union, while the extremists in both the orthodox and the Monophysitic movements were unwilling to make any

compromise. These firmly orthodox men were called the Akoimetoi, that is “the Sleepless,” because the services in their monasteries were held continuously during the day and night, so that they had to divide their groups into three relays; the extreme Monophysites were called the Akephaloi, that is “the Headless,” because they did not recognize the leadership of the Alexandrian Patriarch, who accepted the Henoticon.

The Pope of Rome also protested against the Henoticon. He analyzed the complaints of the eastern clergy, dissatisfied with the decree, then studied the Act of Union itself and decided to excommunicate and anathematize the Patriarch of Constantinople, Acacius, at a council gathered in Rome. In reply Acacius ceased to mention the pope in his prayers. This was in reality the first true breach between the eastern and western churches; it continued until the year 518, when Justin I ascended the throne.[141] Thus the political breach between the eastern and western parts of the Empire, in evidence since the founding in the fifth century of the barbarian German kingdoms in the West, became wider during the reign of Zeno because of the religious secession.

Anastasius I (491-518).

Settlement of the Isaurian problem. The Persian War. Bulgarian and Slavic attacks. The Long Wall. Relations with the West. — Following the death of Zeno, his widow, Ariadne, chose the aged Anastasius, a native of Dyrrachium, who held the rather minor court position of silentiary (silentiarius).[142] Anastasius was crowned as emperor only after he had signed a written promise not to introduce any ecclesiastical innovations, a promise extracted by the Patriarch of Constantinople, an ardent adherent of the Council of Chalcedon.

Anastasius’ first problem was to settle with the Isaurians, who had acquired so much authority during the reign of Zeno. Their privileged position irritated the population of the capital and when it was also discovered that after the death of Zeno they were plotting against the new Emperor, Anastasius acted with dispatch. He removed them from the responsible posts, confiscated their property, and drove them out of the capital. A long and hard struggle followed this action, and only after six years of fighting were the Isaurians completely subjugated in their native Isauria. Many of them were transported to Thrace. The great service of Anastasius was this decisive settlement of the Isaurian problem.

Among external events, in addition to the exhausting and profitless war with Persia, the state of affairs on the Danube boundary was of great consequence to subsequent history. After the departure of the Ostrogoths to Italy, devastating raids against the northern boundary were undertaken by the Bulgarians, Getae, and Scythians during the reign of Anastasius I. The Bulgarians, who raided the borders of Byzantine territory during the fifth century, were a people of Hunnic (Turkish) origin.

They are first mentioned in the Balkan peninsula during the reign of Zeno in connection with the Ostrogothic migrations north of the Byzantine Empire.

As to the rather vague names of Getae and Scythians, the chroniclers of that period were not well informed about the ethnographic composition of the northern peoples; hence it is very likely that these were collective names, and historians consider it probable that some Slavic tribes were included among them. Theophylact, the Byzantine writer of the early seventh century, directly identified the Getae with the Slavs.[143] Thus, during the reign of Anastasius, the Slavs, together with the Bulgarians, first began their irruptions into the Balkan peninsula. According to one source, “a Getic cavalry” devastated Macedonia, Thessaly, and Epirus, and reached as far as Thermopylae.[144] Some scholars have even advanced the theory that the Slavs entered the Balkan peninsula at an earlier period. The Russian scholar Drinov, for example, on the basis of his study of geographical and personal names in the peninsula, placed the beginning of Slavic settlement in the Balkan peninsula in the late second century A.D.[145]

The attacks of the Bulgarians and Slavs during the reign of Anastasius were not of very great consequence for that epoch, for these bands of barbarians, after robbing the Byzantine population, went back to the places from, which they came. Yet these raids were the forerunners of the great Slavic irruptions into the Balkan peninsula in the sixth century during the reign of Justinian.

In order to protect the capital against the northern barbarians, Anastasius erected in Thrace, about forty miles west of Constantinople, the so-called “Long Wall”

which extended from the Sea of Marmora to the Black Sea, “making the city,” said one source, “practically an island instead of a peninsula.”[146] This wall did not fulfill the purpose for which it was erected, however. Because of its hurried construction and the breaches made by earthquakes it did not serve as a real barrier to the enemy’s approach to the city walls. The modern Turkish fortifications of the Chatalja lines erected in almost the same place pretty closely approximate the Anastasian wall, traces of which may still be seen today.

In western Europe further important changes were taking place in the time of Anastasius. Theodoric became the king of Italy; and in the far northwest Clovis founded a strong Prankish kingdom even before Anastasius ascended the throne. Both these kingdoms were established on territory which theoretically belonged to the Roman, in this case the Byzantine, emperor. Quite naturally, the distant Frankish kingdom could in no way be dependent upon Constantinople; yet in the eyes of die conquered natives the power of the newcomers had real authority only after official approval from the shores of the Bosphorus. So it was that when the Goths proclaimed Theodoric king of Italy “without waiting,” said a contemporary chronicler, “for directions from the new princeps [Anastasius],”[147] Theodoric nevertheless asked the latter to send him the insignia of imperial power previously returned to Zeno by Odovacar. After long negotiations and the sending of several envoys to Constantinople, Anastasius recognized Theodoric as the ruler of Italy, and the latter then became the legal sovereign in the eyes of the native population.[148] The Arian beliefs of the Goths stood in the way of a closer friendship between the Goths and the natives of Italy.

To Clovis, the king of the Franks, Anastasius sent a diploma conferring upon him the consulship, which Clovis accepted with gratitude.[149] This, of course, was only an honorary consulship, which did not involve the exercise of the duties of the position.

Nevertheless it was of great importance to Clovis. The Roman population in Gaul looked upon the eastern emperor as the bearer of supreme authority, who alone could bestow all other power. The diploma of Anastasius conferring the consulship proved to the Gallic population the legality of Clovis’ rule over them. It made him a sort of viceroy of the province, which theoretically still remained a part of the Roman Empire.

These relations of the Byzantine emperor with the Germanic kingdom show

clearly that in the late fifth and early sixth centuries the idea of a single empire was still very strong.

The religious policy of Anastasius. The rebellion of Vitalian. Internal reforms — In spite of the promise of the Patriarch of Constantinople not to introduce any ecclesiastical innovations, Anastasius in his religious policy favored Monophysitism; somewhat later, he openly sided with the Monophysites. This act was greeted with joy in Egypt and Syria, where Monophysitism was widespread. In the capital, however, the

Monophysitic leanings of the Emperor aroused great confusion and when Anastasius, following the example of Antioch, ordered that the Trisagion (“Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts”) be chanted with the addition of the words “who wast crucified for us,”

(that is, “Holy God, Holy Strong One, Holy Immortal One, crucified for us, be merciful to us”), great disturbances took place in Constantinople and almost brought about the deposition of the Emperor.

This religious policy of Anastasius led to the rebellion of Vitalian in Thrace. At the head of a large army composed of Huns, Bulgarians, and perhaps Slavs, and aided by a large fleet, Vitalian advanced toward the capital. His aim was political; he wished to depose the Emperor. But to the world he announced that he rose to defend the oppressed orthodox church. After a long and strenuous struggle the rebellion was finally suppressed. This revolt was of no little importance in history. “By three times bringing his heterogeneous troops close to Constantinople and by obtaining from the government enormous sums of money,” said Th. I. Uspensky, “Vitalian revealed to the barbarians the weakness of the Empire and the great riches of Constantinople, and taught them something about combined movement on land and sea.”[150]

The internal policy of Anastasius, not yet sufficiently studied or evaluated in historical literature, was marked by intense activity and affected important economic and financial problems of the Empire.

One of his very important financial reforms was the abolition of the hated chrysargyron, a tax paid in gold and silver (in Latin it was called lustralis collatio, or sometimes by a fuller name, lustralis auri argentive collatio). This tax, from as far back as the early part of the fourth century, applied to all the handicrafts and professions in the Empire, even to servants, beggars, and prostitutes. It was levied, perhaps, even on the tools and livestock of the farmers, such as horses, mules, donkeys, and dogs. The poor classes suffered particularly from the burden of the chrysargyron. Officially, this tax was supposed to be collected only once in five years, but in reality the date for its collection was set by the administration arbitrarily and unexpectedly, and these frequent collections at times drove the population to despair.[151] In spite of the large income poured into the government treasury from this tax, Anastasius definitely abolished it and publicly burned all the documents connected with it. The population greeted the abolition of the tax with great joy; to describe this imperial favor, according to one historian of the sixth century, one “needs the eloquence of Thucydides or something still more lofty and graceful,”[152] A Syriac source of the sixth century described the joy with which the edict of abolition was received in the city of Edessa: The whole city rejoiced, and they all put on white garments, both small and great, and carried lighted tapers and censers full of burning incense, and went forth with psalms and hymns, giving thanks to God and praising the emperor, to the church of St. Sergius and St. Simeon, where they celebrated the eucharist. They then re-entered the city and kept a glad and merry festival during the whole week, and enacted that they should celebrate this festival every year. All the artisans were reclining and enjoying themselves, bathing and feasting in the court of the great Church and in all the porticos of the city.

The amount raised by the chrysargyron at Edessa was 140 pounds of gold every four years.[153] The abolition of this tax gave special satisfaction to the church, because, by participating in the earnings of prostitutes, the tax implicitly gave legal sanction to vice.[154]

Of course the abolition of the chrysargyron deprived the exchequer of

considerable revenue but this loss was very soon made good by the introduction of a new tax, the chrysoteleia (χρυσοτελεια), a “gold tax,” or “a tax in gold,” or a tax in cash instead of kind. It was apparently a land tax, which Anastasius applied to the support of the army. This also weighed heavily on the poorer classes, so that the whole financial reform had in view a more regular distribution of tax burdens rather than a real diminution of them.[155] Perhaps the most important financial reform of Anastasius was the abolition, upon the advice of his trusted praetorian prefect, the Syrian Marinus, of the system under which the town corporations (curiae) were responsible for collecting the taxes of the municipalities; Anastasius assigned this task to officials named vindices, who probably were appointed by the praetorian prefect. Although this new system of collecting the taxes increased the revenue considerably, it was modified in following reigns. Under Anastasius the problem of sterile lands seems to have become more acute than ever. The burden of additional taxation fell on persons unable to pay, as well as on the unproductive land. The owners of productive land thus became responsible for the full payment of taxes to the government. This additional assessment, called in Greek “epibole” (επιβολη) that is, “increase,” “surcharge,” was a very old institution going back to Ptolemaic Egypt. It was enacted with particular firmness during the reign of Justinian the Great.[156] Anastasius also decreed that a free peasant-tenant, who had lived in the same place for thirty years, became a colonus, a man attached to the soil, but he did not lose his personal freedom and right to own property.

The time of Anastasius I was marked also by the great currency reform. In the year 498 the large bronze follis with its smaller denominations was introduced. The new coinage was welcome, especially to the poorer citizens, for the copper money in circulation had become scarce, was bad in quality, and had no marks of value. The new coins were struck at the three mints which were in operation under Anastasius, at Constantinople, Nicomedia, and Antioch. The bronze coinage introduced by Anastasius remained the model of imperial currency until about the second half of the seventh century.[157]

To his list of humanitarian reforms Anastasius added a decree forbidding fights between men and beasts in the circus.

Although Anastasius often granted tax reductions to many provinces and cities, especially those in the East devastated by the Persian War, and although he carried out a building program including the Long Wall, aqueducts, the lighthouse of Alexandria, and other projects, the government toward the end of his reign still possessed a large reserve which the historian Procopius estimated, perhaps with some exaggeration, at 320 thousand pounds of gold, equivalent to about $65,000,000 or $70,000,000.[158] The economy of Anastasius was of great importance to the abundant activities of his second successor, Justinian the Great. The time of Anastasius was a splendid introduction to the Justinian epoch.

Summary.

The main interest of the epoch beginning with Arcadius and ending with Anastasius (395-518) lies in the national and religious problems and in the political events, which were always closely connected with the religious movements. The Germanic, or, to be more exact, the Gothic, tyranny grew very strong in the capital and menaced the entire state in the late fourth century. This was further complicated by the Arian leanings of the Goths. This menace decreased at the beginning of the fifth century under Arcadius and was completely removed by Leo I at the time of its later and much weaker outburst in the middle of the fifth century. Then, at the end of the century, came the new Ostrogothic menace from the north, which was successfully diverted by Zeno into Italy.

Thus the Germanic problem in the eastern part of the Empire was settled to the advantage of the government.

The eastern part of the Empire was also successful in achieving in the second half of the fifth century a favorable settlement of the less acute and significant national problem, that of the Isaurian predominance. The Bulgarians and Slavs were only beginning their attacks upon the borders of the Empire during this period and it was not yet possible to foretell the great role which these northern peoples were destined to play in the history of the Byzantine Empire. The period of Anastasius may be viewed as only an introduction to the Slavic epoch in the Balkan peninsula.

The religious problem of this epoch fails into two phases: the orthodox, up to the time of Zeno, and the Monophysitic, under Zeno and Anastasius. Zeno’s favorable attitude towards the Monophysitic doctrine and the explicit Monophysitic sympathies of Anastasius were important not only from the dogmatical point of view but from the political point of view as well. By the end of the fifth century the western part of the Empire, in spite of a theoretically recognized unity, had practically detached itself from Constantinople. In Gaul, in Spain, and in northern Africa new barbaric kingdoms were formed; Italy was practically ruled by German chiefs, and at the end of the fifth century the Ostrogothic kingdom was founded on Italian territory. This state of affairs explains why the eastern provinces — Egypt, Palestine, and Syria — became of exceptionally great importance to the eastern half of the Empire. The great merit of both Zeno and Anastasius lies in the fact that they understood that the center of gravity had shifted and, appreciating the importance of the eastern provinces, they used every possible means to find a way of binding them to the capital. Since these provinces, especially Egypt and Syria, were in general devoted to the Monophysitic doctrine, there could be only one course for the Empire — to make peace with the Monophysites at any cost.

This explains Zeno’s evasive and purposely rather obscure Henoticon. It was one of the first steps toward the reconciliation with the Monophysites. When this attempt failed to bring results, Anastasius decided to follow a very definite Monophysitic policy. Both these emperors were politically perspicacious rulers as compared with the emperors of the subsequent period. In their Monophysitic policy both were confronted by the orthodox movement, widely supported in the capital, in the Balkan peninsula, in most of the provinces of Asia Minor, in the islands, and in some portions of Palestine.

Orthodoxy was also defended by the pope, who broke off all relations with Constantinople because of the Henoticon. The inevitability of the collision between politics and religion explains the internal religious upheavals during the reign of Anastasius. He did not succeed in bringing about during his lifetime the desired peace and harmony within the Empire. His successors, moreover, led the Empire along an entirely different path, and alienation of the eastern provinces was already beginning to be felt at the end of this period.

On the whole this was a period of struggle on the part of the different

nationalities, spurred by greatly differing aims and hopes; the Germans and the Isaurians wanted to attain political supremacy, while the Copts in Egypt and the Syrians were concerned primarily with the triumph of their religious doctrines.

Literature, learning, education, and art.

The developments in literature, learning, and education during the period from the fourth to the beginning of the sixth century are closely connected with the relations established between Christianity and the ancient pagan world with its great culture.

The debates of the Christian apologists of the second and third centuries on the question of whether or not it was permissible for a Christian to use pagan materials brought no definite conclusion. While some of the apologists found merit in Greek culture and considered it reconcilable with Christianity, others denied that pagan antiquity was of any significance to the Christian and repudiated it. A different attitude prevailed in Alexandria, the old center of heated philosophic and religious disputes, where discussions on the compatibility of ancient paganism with Christianity tended to draw together these two seemingly irreconcilable elements. Clement of Alexandria, for example, the famous writer of the late second century, said: “Philosophy, serving as a guide, prepares those who are called by Christ to perfection.”[159] Still, the problem of the relation between pagan culture and Christianity was by no means settled by the debates of the first three centuries of the Christian era.

But life did its work, and pagan society was gradually being converted to Christianity, which received a particularly great impetus in the fourth century. It was aided on the one hand by the protection of the government, and on the other by the numerous so-called “heresies,” which awakened intellectual disputes, aroused passionate discussions, and created a series of new and important questions.

Meanwhile Christianity was gradually absorbing many of the elements of pagan culture, so that, according to Krumbacher, “Christian topics were being unconsciously clothed in pagan garb.”[160] Christian literature of the fourth and fifth centuries was enriched by the works of great writers in the field of prose as well as that of poetry. At the same time the pagan traditions were continued and developed by representatives of pagan thought.

In the wide realm of the Roman Empire, within the boundaries which existed until the Persian and Arabian conquests of the seventh century, the Christian Orient of the fourth and fifth centuries had several distinct, well-known literary centers, whose representative writers exerted great influence far beyond the limits of their native cities and provinces. Cappadocia, in Asia Minor, had in the fourth century the three famous “Cappadocians,” Basil the Great, his friend Gregory the Theologian, and Gregory of Nyssa, younger brother of Basil. Important cultural centers in Syria were the cities of Antioch and Berytus (Beirut) on the seacoast; the latter was particularly famous for studies in the field of law, and the time of its brilliance lasted from about 200 to 551 A.D.[161] In Palestine, Jerusalem had at this time not yet completely recovered from the destruction during the reign of Titus, and consequently it did not play a very significant part in the cultural life of the fourth and fifth centuries. But Caesarea, and toward the end of the fourth century, the southern Palestinian city of Gaza, with its flourishing school of famous rhetoricians and poets, contributed much to the treasures of thought and literature in this period. But above all these the Egyptian city of Alexandria still remained the center which exerted the widest and deepest influence upon the entire Asiatic Orient. The new city of Constantinople, destined to have a brilliant future in the time of Justinian, was only beginning to show signs of literary activity. Here the official protection of the Latin language, somewhat detached from actual life, was particularly pronounced. Of some importance to the general cultural and literary movements of this epoch were two other western centers of the eastern Empire, Thessalonica and Athens, the latter with its pagan academy, eclipsed in later years by its victorious rival, the University of Constantinople.

A comparison of the cultural developments in the eastern and the western provinces of the Byzantine Empire reveals an interesting phenomenon: in European Greece, with its old population, spiritual activity and creativeness were infinitely small in comparison with developments in the provinces of Asia and Africa, despite the fact that the greater part of these provinces, according to Krumbacher, were “discovered”

and colonized only from the time of Alexander the Great. The same scholar, resorted to

“our favorite modern language of numbers,” and asserted that the European group of Byzantine provinces was responsible for only ten per cent of the general cultural productivity of this period.[162] In truth, the majority of writers of this epoch came from Asia and Africa, whereas after the founding of Constantinople almost all the historians were Greeks. Patristic literature had its brilliant period of development in the fourth, and the early part of the fifth, century.

The Cappadocians Basil the Great and Gregory of Nazianzus received an

admirable education in the best rhetorical schools of Athens and Alexandria.

Unfortunately, no definite information exists about the early education of Basil’s younger brother, Gregory of Nyssa, the most profound thinker of the three. They were all well acquainted with classical literature and represented the so-called “new Alexandrian” movement. This movement, while using the acquisitions of philosophical thinking, insisting upon a place for reason in the study of religious dogma, and refusing to adopt the extremes of the mystical-allegorical movement of the so-called

“Alexandrian” school, still did not discard the church tradition. In addition to the wealth of literary works on purely theological subjects wherein they ardently defend orthodoxy in its struggle with Arianism, these three writers left also a large collection of orations and letters. This collection constitutes one of the richest sources of cultural material for the period and even yet it has not been fully exhausted from a historical point of view. Gregory of Nazianzus also left a number of poems, which are chiefly theological, dogmatical, and didactic but are also somewhat historical. His long poem About His Own Life should by reason of form and content take a high place in the field of literature in general. Brilliant as they were, these three writers were the only representatives of their city. “When these three noble geniuses had passed away, Cappadocia returned into the obscurity from which they had drawn it.”[163]

Antioch, the Syrian center of culture, produced in opposition to the Alexandrian school its own movement, which defended the literal acceptance of the Holy Scriptures without allegorical interpretations. This movement was headed by such unusual men of action as the pupil of Libanius and favorite of Antioch, John Chrysostom. He combined thorough classical education with unusual stylistic and oratorical ability and his numerous works constitute one of the world’s great literary treasures. Later generations fell under the spell of his genius and high moral qualities, and literary movements of subsequent periods borrowed ideas, images, and expressions from his works as from an unlimited source. So great was his reputation that in the course of time many works of unknown authors have been ascribed to him; but his authentic works, sermons, and orations and more than two hundred letters, written mainly during his exile, represent an extremely valuable source regarding the internal life of the Empire.[164] The attitude of posterity is well characterized by a Byzantine writer of the fourteenth century, Nicephorus Callistus, who wrote; “I have read more than a thousand sermons by him, which pour forth unspeakable sweetness. From my youth I have loved him and listened to his voice as if it were that of God. And what I know and what I am, I owe to him.”[165]

From the Palestinian city of Caesarea came the “father of ecclesiastical history,”

Eusebius, who lived in the second half of the third century and the early part of the fourth century. He died about the year 340. He has been cited earlier as the chief authority on Constantine the Great. Eusebius lived on the threshold of two highly significant historical epochs: on one hand, he witnessed the severe persecutions of Diocletian and his successors and suffered much personally because of his Christian convictions; on the other hand, after the Edict of Galerius he lived through a period of gradual triumph of Christianity under Constantine and participated in the Arian disputes, inclining sometimes to the Arians. He later became one of the greatly trusted and intimate friends of the Emperor. Eusebius wrote many theological and historical works. The Evangelic Preparation (Ευαγγελικη προπαρασκευη, Praeparatio evangelica), the large work in which he defends the Christians against the religious attacks of the pagans, The Evangelic Demonstration (Ευαγγελικη αποδειξις, Demonstratio

evangelica), in which he discusses the merely temporal significance of the Mosaic law and the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament by Jesus Christ, his writings in the field of criticism and interpretation of the Holy Scriptures, as well as several other works entitle him to a high place of honor in the field of theological literature.

These works also contain valuable extracts from older writings which were later lost.

For this study the historical writings of Eusebius are of greater importance. The Chronicle, written apparently before Diocletian’s persecutions, contains a brief survey of the history of the Chaldeans, Assyrians, Hebrews, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans and in its main portion gives chronological tables of the most important historical events.

Unfortunately it has survived only through an Armenian translation and partly through a Latin adaptation of St. Jerome. Thus no accurate conception of the form and contents of the original exists today, especially since the translations which have survived were made not from the original Greek, but from an adaptation of The Chronicle which appeared soon after Eusebius’ death.

His outstanding historical work is the Ecclesiastical History, ten books covering the period from the time of Christ to the victory of Constantine over Licinius.

According to his own statement, he did not aim to tell of wars and the trophies of generals, but rather to “record in ineffaceable letters the most peaceful wars waged in behalf of the peace of the soul, and to tell of men doing brave deeds for truth rather than country, for piety rather than dearest friends.”[166] Under the pen of Eusebius, church history became the history of martyrdom and persecutions, with all the accompanying terror and atrocities. Because of its abundance of documentary data, his history must be recognized as one of the very important sources for the first three centuries of the Christian era. Besides, Eusebius was important also because he was the first to write a history of Christianity, embracing that subject from all possible aspects.

His Ecclesiastical History, which brought him much fame, became the basis for the work of many later church historians and was often imitated. As early as the fourth century it became widely spread in the West through the Latin translation of Rufinus.[167]

The Life of Constantine, written by Eusebius at a later period — if it was written by him at all — has called forth many varied interpretations and evaluations in the scholarly world. It must be classed not so much among the purely historical types of writing as among the panegyrics. Constantine is represented as a God-chosen emperor endowed with the gift of prevision, a new Moses destined to lead God’s people to freedom. In Eusebius’ interpretation the three sons of Constantine personified the Holy Trinity, while Constantine himself was the true benefactor of the Christians, who now attained the high ideal of which they had only dreamed before. In order to keep the-harmony of his work intact, Eusebius did not touch upon the darker sides of the epoch, did not reveal the sinister phenomena of his day, but rather gave full sway to the praise and glorification of his hero. Yet, by a skillful use of this work one may gain much valuable insight into the period of Constantine, especially because it contains many official documents which probably were inserted after the first version was written.[168] In spite of his mediocre literary ability, Eusebius must be considered one of the greatest Christian scholars of the early Middle Ages and a writer who greatly influenced medieval Christian literature.

A whole group of historians continued what Eusebius had begun. Socrates of Constantinople carried his Ecclesiastical History up to the year 439; Sozomen, a native of the district near the Palestinian city of Gaza, was the author of another Ecclesiastical History, also up to the year 439; Theodoret, bishop of Cyrus, a native of Antioch, wrote a similar history covering the period from the Council of Nicaea until the year 428; and, finally, the Arian Philostorgius, whose works have survived only in fragments, narrated events up to the year 425 from his own Arian point of view.

The most intense and varied intellectual life during this period was to be found in Egypt, especially in its progressive center, Alexandria.

An unusual and interesting figure in the literary life of the late fourth and early fifth centuries was Synesius of Cyrene. A descendant of a very old pagan family, educated in Alexandria and later introduced to the mysteries of the neo-Platonic philosophy, he shifted his allegiance from Plato to Christ, married a Christian girl, and became bishop of Ptolemaïs during the last years of his life. In spite of all this, Synesius probably always felt more of a pagan than a Christian. His mission to Constantinople and his address “on Kingship” show his interest in politics. He was not essentially a historian, yet he left extremely important historical materials in 156 letters which reflect his brilliant philosophic and rhetorical attainments and which set the standard of style for the Byzantine Middle Ages. His hymns, written in the meter and style of classical poetry, reveal a peculiar mixture of philosophical and Christian views. This bishop-philosopher felt that the classical culture so dear to him was gradually approaching its end.[169]

During the long and harsh struggle with Arianism appeared the brilliant figure of the ardent Nicaean, Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, who left a number of writings devoted to theological disputes in the fourth century. He also wrote the Life of St.

Anthony, one of the founders of eastern monasticism, painting in it an ideal picture of ascetic life. This work greatly influenced the spread of monasticism. To the fifth century belongs also the greatest historian of Egyptian monasticism, Palladius of Helenopolis, born in Asia Minor, but well acquainted with Egyptian monastic life because of a sojourn of about ten years in the Egyptian monastic world. Under the influence of Athanasius of Alexandria, Palladius once more presented the ideals of monastic life, introducing into his history an element of legend. The ruthless enemy of Nestorius, Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, also lived during this period. During his stormy and strenuous life he wrote a large number of letters and sermons which the Greek bishops of a later period sometimes learned by heart. He also left a number of dogmatic, polemical, and exegetic treatises which serve as one of the main sources on the ecclesiastical history of the fifth century. According to his own confession, his rhetorical education was insufficient and he could not pride himself upon the Attic purity of his style.

Another extremely interesting figure of this epoch is the woman philosopher, Hypatia, who was killed by the fanatical mob of Alexandria some time in the early part of the fifth century. She was a woman of exceptional beauty and unusual intellectual attainments. Through her father, a famous Alexandrian mathematician, she became acquainted with the mathematical sciences and classical philosophy. She gained wide fame through her remarkable activities as a teacher. Among her pupils were such great literary men as Synesius of Cyrene, who mentions the name of Hypatia in many of his letters. One source told how, “clothed in a mantle, she used to wander about the city and expound to willing listeners the works of Plato, Aristotle, or some other philosopher.”[170]

Greek literature flourished in Egypt until the year 451, when the Council of Chalcedon condemned the Monophysitic doctrine. Since this doctrine was the official Egyptian religion, the action of the council was followed by the abolition of Greek from the church and the substitution of the Coptic language in its stead. The Coptic literature which developed after this is of some importance even to Greek literature, because certain original Greek works which have been lost are preserved at present only through their Coptic translations.

This period saw the development of the literature of religious hymns. The hymn writers gradually abandoned their original practice of imitating classical meters and developed forms of their own. These forms were quite original and for some time were considered merely as prose. It is only in comparatively recent times that these meters have been even partially explained. They are marked by various types of acrostics and rhymes. Unfortunately very little is known of the religious hymns of the fourth and fifth centuries and the history of their gradual development is therefore obscure. Yet it is quite apparent that this development was vigorous. While Gregory the Theologian followed the antique meters in most of his poetical hymns, Romanus the Melode (“Hymnwriter”), whose works appeared in the early sixth century under Anastasius I, used the new forms and made use of acrostics and rhyme.

Scholars have long disputed as to whether Romanus lived in the sixth or in the early eighth century. His brief Life alludes to his arrival at Constantinople during the reign o£ the Emperor Anastasius, but for a long time it was impossible to determine whether this was Anastasius I (491-518) or Anastasius II (713-16). The scholarly world, however, after a long study of the works of Romanus, has definitely agreed that he referred to Anastasius I.[171] Romanus the Melode is sometimes called the greatest poet of the Byzantine period. This “Pindar of rhythmical poetry, “[172] “the greatest religious genius,” “the Dante of the neo-Hellenes,”[173] is the author of a large number of superb hymns among which is the famous Christian hymn, “Today the Virgin Brings Forth the Supersubstantial.”[174] The poet was born in Syria, and it is very probable that the flowering of his genius occurred during the reign of Justinian, for according to his Life he was a young deacon when he came, during the rule of Anastasius, from Syria to Constantinople, where he miraculously acquired from heaven the gift of writing hymns. The finished work of Romanus in the sixth century seems to indicate that religious poetry in the fifth century had reached a high stage of development; unfortunately the data is inadequate on this point. It is certainly difficult to conceive the existence of this unusual poet in the sixth century without some previous development of church poetry. Unfortunately, also, he cannot be appreciated fully because most of his hymns are still unpublished.[175]

Lactantius, an eminent Christian writer from north Africa in the early part of the fourth century, wrote in Latin. He is particularly important as the author of De mortibus persecutorum. This work gives very interesting information on the time of Diocletian and Constantine down to the so-called rescript of Milan.[176]

The Christian literature of this period is represented by many remarkable authors, but pagan literature does not lag far behind. Among its representatives, too, were a number of gifted and interesting men, one of whom is Themistius of Paphlagonia, who lived in the second half of the fourth century. He was the philosophically educated director of the school of Constantinople, the court orator, and a senator highly esteemed by both pagans and Christians. He wrote a large collection of

“Paraphrases of Aristotle,” in which he sought to clarify the more complicated ideas of the Greek philosopher. He is the author also of about forty orations which give abundant information about the important events of the period as well as about his own personal life. The greatest of all the pagan teachers of the fourth century was Libanius of Antioch, who influenced his contemporaries more than any other man of the period. Among his pupils were John Chrysostom, Basil the Great, and Gregory of Nazianzus, and his lectures were studied enthusiastically by the young Julian before he ascended the throne. Libanius’ sixty-five public addresses are of particular interest and provide abundant material about the internal life of the time. Of no lesser importance is the collection of his letters, which in richness of content and remarkable spirit may be compared with the letters of Synesius of Cyrene.

The Emperor Julian was an extremely brilliant figure in the intellectual life of the fourth century, and despite the brevity of his career he clearly demonstrated his talent in various departments of literature. His orations, reflecting his obscure philosophical and religious speculations, such as his appeal “To the King Sun;” his letters; his

“Against the Christians,” which is preserved in fragments only; his satirical Misopogon (“The Beardhater”),[177] written against the people of Antioch, important as a biographical source — all these reveal Julian as a gifted writer, historian, thinker, satirist, and moralist. The extent to which his writings were interwoven with the actual realities of the period should be emphasized. The early and sudden death of this young emperor prevented the full development of his unusual genius.

Pagan literature of the fourth and fifth centuries is represented also by several writers in the field of pure history. Among the most significant was the author o£ the very well-known collection of biographies of Roman emperors written in Latin in the fourth century and known under the title of Scriptores Historiae Augustae. The identity of its author, the time of its compilation, and its historical significance are all debatable and have produced an enormous literature.”[178] But in 1923 an English historian wrote: “The time and labour spent upon the Augustan history … are overwhelming and their results, so far as any practical use for history goes, are precisely nil.”[179] N.

Baynes recently made a very interesting attempt to prove that this collection was written under Julian the Apostate with a definite object: propaganda for Julian, his whole administration and religious policy.[180] This point of view has not been accepted by scholars.[181]

Priscus of Thrace, a historian of the fifth century and a member of the embassy to the Huns, was another who made significant contributions. His Byzantine History, which has survived in fragments, and his information on the life and customs of the Huns are both extremely interesting and valuable. In fact, Priscus was the main source on the history of Attila and the Huns for the Latin historians of the sixth century, Cassiodorus and Jordanes. Zosimus, who lived in the fifth century and early part of the sixth, wrote The New History, bringing his account down to Alaric’s siege of Rome in the year 410. As an enthusiastic believer in the old gods he explained that the fall of the Roman Empire was caused by the anger of the gods at being forsaken by the Romans and he blamed Constantine the Great above all. His opinion of Julian was very high.

According to a recent writer, Zosimus is not only a historian of the “decline of Rome”

but: he is also a theoretician of the republic which he defends and glorifies; he is the sole “republican” of the fifth century.[182]

Ammianus Marcellinus, a Syrian Greek born in Antioch, wrote at the end of the fourth century his Res Gestae, a history of the Roman Empire in Latin. He intended it to be a continuation of the history of Tacitus, bringing the account through the period from Nerva to the death of Valens (96-378). Only the last eighteen books of this history have survived, covering historical events during the period 353-378. The author profited from his harsh military experience in Julian’s campaigns against the Persians and has given firsthand information about contemporary events. Although he remained a pagan to the end of his life, he showed great tolerance toward Christianity.

His history is an important source for the period of Julian and Valens, as well as for Gothic and early Hunnic history. His literary genius has been very highly estimated by recent scholars. Stein called him the greatest literary genius in the world between Tacitus and Dante,[183] and N. Baynes called him the last great historian of Rome.[184]

Athens, the city of declining classical thought, was in the fifth century the home of the last distinguished representative of neo-Platonism, Proclus of Constantinople, who taught and wrote there for a long period of years. It was also the birthplace of the wife of Theodosius II, Eudocia Athenais, who possessed some literary ability and wrote several works.

Western European literature of this period, which was brilliantly represented by the remarkable works of St. Augustine and several other gifted writers of prose and poetry, is not discussed here.

After the transfer of the capital to Constantinople, Latin still remained the official language of the Empire during the fourth and fifth centuries. It was used for all the imperial decrees collected in the Theodosian code as well as for the later decrees of the fifth and the beginning of the sixth centuries. But in the curriculum of the higher school at Constantinople in the time of Theodosius II there was a decline of the predominance of Latin and a definite preference for Greek, which was, after all, the most widely spoken language in the eastern part of the Empire. The Greek tradition was also upheld by the Athenian pagan school.

The time from the fourth to the sixth centuries is one when various elements were gradually blending into a new art which bears the name of Byzantine or East-Christian. As the science of history probes more deeply into the roots of this art, it becomes increasingly clear that the East and its traditions played the predominant part in the development of Byzantine art. By the end of the nineteenth century German scholars advanced the theory that the “art of the Roman Empire” (Römische Reichskunst), which had developed in the West during the first two centuries of the Empire, replaced the old Hellenistic culture of the East, which was in a state of decline, and, so to speak, laid the cornerstone for Christian art of the fourth and fifth centuries.

At present this theory is repudiated. Since the appearance in 1900 of the famous work of D. V. Aïnalov, Hellenistic Origin of Byzantine Art, and the publication in 1901 of the remarkable work of the Austrian scholar J. Strzygowski, Orient or Rome, the problem of the origin of Byzantine art has assumed an entirely new form; it is taken for granted that the main role in the development of East-Christian art belongs to the East, and the problem is only that of determining what is to be understood by the term “East” and eastern influences. In a large number of very stimulating works the tireless Strzygowski argued the enormous influence exerted by the ancient Orient. At first he sought the center of this influence in Constantinople; later he turned to Egypt, Asia Minor, and Syria, and moving still farther to the east and north, he crossed the borders of Mesopotamia and sought the roots of the main influences in the plateau and mountains of Altaï-Iran and in Armenia. He contended, “What Hellas was to the art of antiquity, that Iran was to the art of the new Christian world.”[185] He drew also upon India and Chinese Turkestan for further elucidation of the problem. While recognizing his great services in investigating the origin of Byzantine art, contemporary historical science is still very cautious with regard to his most recent hypotheses.[186]

The fourth century was an extremely important period in the history of

Byzantine art. The new status of the Christian faith in the Roman Empire, first as a legal religion and later as the state religion, furthered the rapid growth of Christianity.

Three elements — Christianity, Hellenism, and the Orient — met in the fourth century, and out of their union grew what is known as East-Christian art.

Having been made the political center of the Empire, Constantinople gradually became also the intellectual and artistic center. This did not happen at once.

“Constantinople had no established pre-existing culture to resist or to control the influx of exotic forces; she had first to balance and assimilate new influences, a task which required at least a hundred years.”[187]

Syria and Antioch, Egypt guided by Alexandria, and Asia Minor, reflecting in their artistic life the influences of more ancient traditions, exerted a very strong and beneficial influence on the growth of East-Christian art. Syrian architecture flourished throughout the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries. The magnificent churches of Jerusalem and Bethlehem, as well as some churches at Nazareth, were erected as early as the reign of Constantine the Great. Unusual splendor characterized the churches of Antioch and Syria. “Antioch, as the center of a brilliant civilization, naturally assumed the leadership of Christian art in Syria.”[188] Unfortunately for a long time very little data was available on the art of Antioch, and it is only recently that its beauty and importance have become better known.[189] The “dead cities” of central Syria uncovered in 1860 and 1861 by M. de Vogue give some conception of what Christian architecture of the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries was like. One of the most remarkable products of the end of the fifth century was the famous monastery of St.

Simeon Stylites (Kalat Seman), located between Antioch and Aleppo, impressive even today in its majestic ruin.[190] The well-known frieze of Mschatta, east of the Jordan, now in the Kaiser Friedrich Museum of Berlin, is apparently also a work of the fourth, fifth, or sixth centuries.[191] To the beginning of the fifth century belongs a beautiful basilica in Egypt erected by the Emperor Arcadius over the grave of Menas, a renowned Egyptian saint. Its ruins have only recently been excavated and studied by C. M.

Kaufmann.[192] In the field of mosaics, portraiture, textiles (figured silks of early Christian times), and so forth, several interesting products of the early part of the Byzantine period exist.

The city walls which surrounded Constantinople in the fifth century have survived to the present day. The Golden Gate (Porta Aurea), through which the emperors made their official entry into Constantinople, was built at the end of the fourth century or the early part of the fifth; remarkable for its architectural splendor, it is still in existence.

With the name of Constantine is bound up the erection of the Church of St. Irene and the Church of the Apostles in Constantinople. St. Sophia, the construction of which might have begun in his time, was completed in the time of his son Constantius. These churches were reconstructed in the sixth century by Justinian. In the fifth century another church embellished the new capital, the Basilica of St. John of Studion, which is now the mosque Mir-Achor djami.

A number of monuments of early Byzantine art have been preserved in the

western parts of the Empire. Among these are some churches at Thessalonica (Salonika); Diocletian’s palace at Spalato, in Dalmatia (early fourth century); some paintings in S. Maria Antiqua at Rome, dating apparently from the end of the fifth century;[193] the mausoleum of Galla Placidia and the orthodox baptistery at Ravenna (fifth century); and some monuments in North Africa.

In the history of art the fourth and fifth centuries may be viewed as the preparatory period for the epoch of Justinian the Great, when “the capital had attained a full self-consciousness and had assumed to itself a directive power,” the epoch which has been justly described as the First Golden Age of Byzantine Art.[194]

3. Justinian the Great and his successors (518-610)

In their external as well as in their religious policy the successors of Zeno and Anastasius followed a path directly opposite to that of their two predecessors, for they turned their faces from the East to the West, During the period from 518 to 578 the throne was occupied by the following persons: Justin the Elder (518-27), a chief of the Guard (Count of the Excubitors),[1] who by a mere accident was elected to the throne after the death of Anastasius; his famous nephew, Justinian the Great (527-65); and a nephew of the latter, Justin II, known as the Younger (565-78). The names of Justin and Justinian are closely connected with the problem of their Slavonic extraction, which was long regarded by many scholars as a historical fact. This theory was based upon a Life of the Emperor Justinian written by the abbot Theophilus, a teacher of Justinian, and published by the keeper of the Vatican Library, Nicholas Alemannus, in the early part of the seventeenth century. This Life introduces special names for Justinian and his relatives, names by which they were known in their native land and which, in the opinion of the high authorities in Slavonic studies, were Slavonic names, as, for example, Justinian’s name Upravda, “the truth, justice.” When the manuscript used by Alemannus was found and studied at the end of the nineteenth century (1883) by the English scholar Bryce, he proved that it was composed in the early part of the seventeenth century and was purely legendary, without historical value. The theory of Justinian’s Slavonic origin must therefore be discarded at present.[2] Justin and Justinian were probably Illyrians or perhaps Albanians. Justinian was born in one of the villages of upper Macedonia, not far from present-day Uskub, on the Albanian border.

Some scholars trace Justinian’s family back to Roman colonists of Dardania, i.e., upper Macedonia.[3] The first three emperors of this epoch, then, were Illyrians or Albanians, though of course they were Romanized; their native language was Latin.

The weak-minded and childless Justin II adopted the Thracian Tiberius, a commander in the army, whom he designated as Caesar. On this occasion he delivered a very interesting speech which made a deep impression on contemporaries for its tone of sincerity and repentance.[4] Since the speech was taken down in shorthand by scribes, it is preserved in its original form. After the death of Justin II, Tiberius reigned as Tiberius II (578-82). With his death ended the dynasty of Justinian, for he was succeeded by his daughter’s husband, Maurice (582-602). Sources differ on the question of Maurice’s origin; some claim that his home and that of his family was the distant Cappadocian city of Arabissus,[5] while others, though still calling him a Cappadocian, consider him the first Greek on the Byzantine throne.[6] There is really no contradiction in terms here, for it is possible that he really may have been born in Cappadocia of Greek descent.[7] Still another tradition claims that he was a Roman.[8] J.

A. Kulakovsky considered it possible that he was of Armenian origin, the native population of Cappadocia being Armenian.[9] Maurice was dethroned by the Thracian tyrant, Phocas (602-10), the last emperor of this period.

Justin I.

Immediately after his accession, Justin I departed from the religious policy of his two predecessors by siding definitely with the followers of the Council of Chalcedon and by opening a period of severe persecutions against the Monophysites. Peaceful relations were established with Rome, and the disagreement between the eastern and western churches, dating back to the time of Zeno’s Henoticon, came to an end. The religious policy of the emperors of this period was based upon orthodoxy. This once more alienated the eastern provinces, and a very interesting hint of mildness appeared in a letter written to Pope Hormisdas in 520 by Justin’s nephew Justinian, whose influence was felt from the first year of his uncle’s reign. He tactfully suggested gentleness toward the dissidents: “You will conciliate the people to our Lord, not by persecutions and bloodshed but by patience, lest, wishing to gain souls, we may lose the bodies of many people and souls as well. For it is appropriate to correct errors of long duration with mildness and clemency. That doctor is justly praised who eagerly endeavors to cure old sicknesses in such a way that new wounds may not originate from them.”[10] It is all the more interesting to hear such advice from Justinian since in later years he himself did not often follow it.

At first sight some inconsistency appears in Justin’s relations with the far-off Abyssinian kingdom of Axum. In his war against the King of Yemen, the protector of Judaism, the king of Abyssinia, with the effective backing of Justin and Justinian, gained a strong foothold in Yemen, located in southwestern Arabia across the Strait of Bab el Mandeb, and restored Christianity in this country. We are at first surprised that the orthodox Justin, who adhered to the Chalcedonlan doctrine and took the offensive against Monophysites within his own empire, should support the Monophysite Abyssinian king. But outside the official boundaries of the Empire, the Byzantine Emperor protected Christianity in general, whether it was in accord with his religious dogmas or not. From the point of view of external policy, the Byzantine emperors regarded every gain for Christianity as an essential political, and perhaps economic, advantage.

This rapprochement between Justin and the Abyssinian king has had a rather unexpected reflection in later times. In Abyssinia in the fourteenth century was compiled one of the most important works of Abyssinian (Ethiopian) literature, the Kebra Nagast (The Glory of the Kings), containing a very interesting collection of legends. It proclaims that the Abyssinian reigning dynasty traces its lineage back to the time of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba; and indeed at the present day Abyssinia claims to be governed by the oldest dynasty in the world. The Ethiopians, according to the Kebra Nagast, are an elect people, a new Israel; their kingdom is higher than the Roman Empire. The two kings, Justinus, the king of Rome, and Kaleb, the king of Ethiopia, shall meet together in Jerusalem and divide the earth between them. This extremely interesting legend shows clearly the deep impress left upon Abyssinian historical tradition by the epoch of Justin I.[11]

The Reign of Justinian and Theodora.

Justin’s successor, his nephew Justinian (527-65), is the central figure of this entire period. His name is closely connected with the name of his royal wife, Theodora, one of the very interesting and gifted women of the Byzantine period. The Secret History, which is from the pen of Procopius, the historian of Justinian’s epoch, paints in exaggerated colors the perverted life of Theodora in the days of her youth, when, as the daughter of the keeper of the bears in the amphitheater, she lived in the morally corrupt atmosphere of the stage of that period and became a woman who gave freely of her love to many men. Nature had endowed her with beauty, grace, intelligence, and wit. According to one historian (Diehl), “she amused, charmed, and scandalized Constantinople.”[12] Procopius said that people who met Theodora in the street would shrink from getting close to her, fearing that a mere touch might sully their robes.[13]

But all these dark details about the early years of the future empress must be viewed with some skepticism, for they all come from Procopius, whose chief aim in The Secret History was to defame Justinian and Theodora. After the very stormy period of her early life, Theodora disappeared from the capital and remained in Africa for a few years. When she returned to Constantinople she was no more the former flighty actress. She had left the stage and was leading a solitary life, devoting much of her time to spinning wool and developing a great interest in religious questions, when Justinian saw her for the first time. Her beauty impressed him greatly and he took her to court, bestowed upon her the rank of patrician, and soon married her. With his accession to the throne she became empress of the Byzantine Empire. Theodora proved herself to be adequate to her new and lofty position. She remained a faithful wife and showed much interest in government affairs, exhibiting very keen insight and exerting much influence upon Justinian in all his undertakings. In the revolt of 532, which will be discussed later, Theodora played one of the most significant parts. By her coolheaded actions and unusual energy she perhaps saved the Empire from further commotions. In her religious preferences she openly favored the Monophysites and was thus the direct opposite of her wavering husband. He adhered to orthodoxy throughout his long reign, though he made some concessions to Monophysitism. She showed a better

understanding than he of the significance of the eastern Monophysitic provinces, which were in reality the vital parts of the Empire and she definitely aimed to bring about peaceful relations with them. Theodora died of cancer in the year 548, long before Justinian’s death.[14] In the famous mosaic in the Church of St. Vitale at Ravenna, dating back to the sixth century, Theodora is represented in imperial robes, surrounded by her court. Church historians contemporary with Theodora, as well as those of a later period, are very harsh with regard to her character. In spite of this, in the orthodox calendar under November 14 appears “The Assumption of the Orthodox King Justinian and the memory of the Queen Theodora.”[15] She was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles.

The external policy of Justinian and his ideology.

The numerous wars of Justinian were partly offensive and partly defensive. The former were carried on against the barbarian Germanic states of western Europe; the latter were directed against Persia in the East and the Slavs in the north.

The main forces were directed to the west, where the military activities of the Byzantine army were crowned with triumphant success. The Vandals, the Ostrogoths, and to some extent the Visigoths were forced into subjection to the Byzantine emperor.

The Mediterranean Sea was almost converted into a Byzantine lake. In his decrees Justinian called himself Caesar Flavius Justinian the Alamannicus, Gothicus, Francicus, Germanicus, Anticus, Alanicus, Vandalicus, Africanus. But this outer splendor had its reverse side. The success was attained at a price too dear for the Empire, for it involved the complete economic exhaustion of the Byzantine state. In view of the fact that the army was transferred to the west, the east and the north remained open to the attacks of the Persians, Slavs, and Huns.

The principal enemies of the Empire, in Justinian’s opinion, were the Germans.

Thus the German question reappeared in the Byzantine Empire during the sixth century, with this difference only: in the fifth century the Germans were attacking the Empire; in the sixth century it was the Empire that pressed upon the Germans.

Justinian mounted the throne with the ideals of an emperor both Roman and Christian. Considering himself a successor of the Roman Caesars, he deemed it his sacred duty to restore a single Empire extending to the same boundaries it had had in the first and second centuries. As a Christian ruler he could not allow the German Arians to oppress the orthodox population. The rulers of Constantinople, as lawful successors of the Caesars, had historical rights to western Europe, occupied at this time by barbarians. The Germanic kings were but vassals of the Byzantine Emperor, who had delegated them to rule in the West. The Frankish king, Clovis, had received his rank of consul from Anastasius; it was Anastasius also who had given official recognition to the Ostrogothic king, Theodoric. When he decided to wage war against the Goths, Justinian wrote, “The Goths, having seized by violence our Italy, have refused to give it back.”[16]

He remained, he felt, the natural suzerain of all the rulers within the boundaries of the Roman Empire. As a Christian emperor, Justinian had the mission of propagating the true faith among the infidels, whether they were heretics or pagans. This theory, expressed by Eusebius in the fourth century was still alive in the sixth century. It was the basis of Justinian’s conviction of his duty to re-establish a united Roman Empire which, in the words of one Novel,[17] formerly reached the shores of two oceans, and which the Romans had lost because of their carelessness. From this old theory arose also Justinian’s belief in his duty to introduce in the restored empire a sole Christian faith among the schismatics as well as among the pagans. Such was Justinian’s ideology, which made this all-embracing statesman and crusader dream of conquering the entire known world.

But it must be remembered that the Emperor’s broad claims to the old parts of the Roman Empire were not exclusively a matter of his personal views. They seemed quite natural to the population of the provinces occupied by the barbarians. The natives of the provinces which had fallen into the hands of Arians viewed Justinian as their sole protector. Conditions in northern Africa under the Vandals were particularly difficult, because these barbarians initiated severe persecutions against the native orthodox population and put many citizens and representatives of the clergy in jail, confiscating much of their property. Refugees and exiles from Africa, including many orthodox bishops, arrived at Constantinople and implored the Emperor to inaugurate a campaign against the Vandals, assuring him that a general revolt of the natives would follow.

A similar state of affairs prevailed in Italy, where the natives, in spite of a prolonged period of religious tolerance under Theodoric and his high regard for Roman civilization, continued to harbor hidden discontent and still turned their eyes to Constantinople, expecting aid from there in the cause of liberating their country from the newcomers and restoring the orthodox faith.

Still more interesting is the fact that the barbarian kings themselves supported the Emperor’s ambitious plans. They persisted in expressing signs of deep respect for the Empire, in demonstrating in many ways their subservience to the Emperor, in striving to attain high Roman ranks by any means, in imprinting the image of the Emperor on their coins, etc. The French scholar Diehl[18] said that they would have willingly repeated the words of the Visigothic chief who said, “The emperor is undoubtedly God on earth and whoso raises a hand against him is guilty of his own blood.”[19]

However, in spite of the fact that the state of affairs in Africa and Italy was favorable for Justinian, the campaigns waged against the Vandals and the Ostrogoths were extremely difficult and long drawn out.

Wars with the Vandals, Ostrogoths, and Visigoths.

The results of thess wars. Persia. The Slavs. — The expedition against the Vandals presented no easy problem. It involved the transfer of a vast army by sea to northern Africa, and this army would have to contend with a people who possessed a powerful fleet and who even in the middle of the fifth century had succeeded in raiding Rome.

Besides, the transfer of the main military forces to the west was bound to have serious consequences in the east, where Persia, the most dangerous enemy of the Empire, waged continual war against Constantinople. Procopius gives an interesting account of the council at which the question of the African expedition was discussed for the first time.[20] The most loyal magistrates of the Emperor expressed doubt about the possible success of the undertaking and considered it precipitate. Justinian himself was beginning to waver; in the end he overcame this temporary weakness and insisted upon his original project. The expedition was definitely decided upon. Meanwhile a change took place in the Persian ruling house, and in the year 532 Justinian succeeded in concluding an “endless” peace with the new ruler on the humiliating condition that the Byzantine Empire should pay a very large annual tribute to the king of Persia. This treaty, however, made it possible for Justinian to act more freely in the east and south.

At the head of the vast army and fleet he placed the gifted general Belisarius, who was the most valuable assistant of the Emperor in his military undertakings and who shortly before this appointment had succeeded in quelling the dangerous internal Nika revolt, of which we shall speak later.

At this time the Vandals and Ostrogoths were no longer the dangerous enemies they had been in former days. Unaccustomed to the enervating southern climate and influenced by Roman civilization, they had rapidly lost their former energy and force.

The Arian beliefs of these Germans caused unfriendly relations with the native Roman population. The continual uprisings of the Berber tribes also contributed much to the weakening of the Vandals. Justinian had a keen insight into existing conditions, and by skillful diplomacy he increased the internal discord among the Vandals, meanwhile feeling quite certain that the Germanic kingdoms would never unite to oppose him jointly, because the Ostrogoths were on bad terms with the Vandals, the orthodox Franks were constantly struggling with the Ostrogoths, and the Visigoths in Spain were too far distant to take a serious part in a war. All this encouraged Justinian in his hope of defeating each enemy separately.

The Vandal war lasted, with some peaceful intervals, from 533 to 548.[21]

Belisarius rapidly subjugated the entire Vandal kingdom by a number of brilliant victories so that Justinian could proclaim triumphantly: “God, in his mercy, gave over to us not only Africa and all her provinces, but also returned our imperial insignia which had been taken away by the Vandals when they took Rome.”[22] Considering the war ended, the Emperor recalled Belisarius and the greater part of the army to Constantinople. Immediately the Moors (a native Berber tribe) rose in terrible rebellion, and the remaining troops were forced to engage in an overwhelming struggle. Belisarius’ successor, Solomon, was utterly defeated and slain. The exhausting war lasted until the year 548, when the imperial power was definitely restored by a decisive victory on the part of John Troglita, a diplomatist as well as a talented general.

The third hero of the imperial reoccupation of Africa, he secured complete tranquillity there for nearly fourteen years. His deeds were narrated by the contemporary African poet, Corippus, in his historical work Iohannis.[23]

These conquests did not entirely satisfy Justinian’s hopes, for, with the exception of the powerful fortress of Septum, near the Pillars of Hercules (now the Spanish fortress Ceuta), the western portion of northern Africa, reaching to the Atlantic Ocean, was not reannexed. Yet the greater part of northern Africa, Corsica, Sardinia, and the Balearic Islands became part of the Empire, and Justinian spent much energy in his efforts to restore order in these conquered lands. Even today the majestic ruins of numerous Byzantine fortresses and fortifications bear witness to the strenuous efforts of the Emperor for the defense of his land.

Still more exhausting was the Ostrogothic campaign, which lasted, also with peaceful intervals, from 535 to 554. During the first thirteen years this was contemporaneous with the Vandal war. Justinian opened military action by intervening in the internal strife of the Ostrogoths. One army began the conquest of Dalmada, which at this time formed a part of the Ostrogothic kingdom. Another, transported by sea and headed by Belisarius, occupied Sicily without much difficulty. Later, when transferred to Italy, this army conquered Naples and Rome. Soon after this, in 540, the Ostrogothic capital, Ravenna, opened its gates to Belisarius, who shortly afterward left Italy for Constantinople, taking with him the captive Ostrogothic king. Justinian added

“Gothicus” to his title “Africanus and Vandalicus.” Italy seemed definitely conquered by the Byzantine Empire.

However, at this time there appeared among the Goths an energetic and gifted king, Totila, the last defender of Ostrogothic independence. With speed and decision he reversed the state of affairs. His military successes were so great that Belisarius was recalled from Persia to cope with them and was sent to Italy to assume the supreme command. Belisarius, however, was unable to deal with the situation. In rapid succession the territories conquered by the Byzantine army in Italy and on the islands were reclaimed by the Ostrogoths. The unfortunate city of Rome, which several times passed back and forth from Romans to Ostrogoths, was transformed into a heap of ruins. After Belisarius’ failures had led to his recall from Italy, his successor, Narses, another gifted Byzantine general, finally succeeded in conquering the Goths by a number of actions displaying great strategic skill. Totila’s army was defeated in 552 in the battle of Busta Gallorum in Umbria. Totila himself fled, but in vain.[24] “His blood-stained garments and the cap adorned with gems which he had worn were taken to Narses who sent them to Constantinople, where they were laid at the feet of the emperor as a visible proof that the enemy who had so long defied his power was no more.”[25] In the year 554, after twenty years of devastating warfare, Italy, Dalmatia, and Sicily were reunited with the Empire. The Pragmatic Sanction, published by Justinian in the same year, returned to the large landed aristocracy of Italy and to the church the land taken away from them by the Ostrogoths and restored all their former privileges; it also outlined a number of measures intended to lessen the burdens of the ruined population. But the Ostrogothic wars for a long time prevented the development of industry and commerce in Italy and, as a result of the lack of laborers, many Italian fields remained uncultivated. For a time Rome became a second-rate ruined city of no political importance. The pope, however, chose it as his refuge.

Justinian’s last military undertaking was directed against the Visigoths in the Pyrenean peninsula. Taking advantage of civil war between different pretenders to the Visigothic throne, he sent a navy to Spain in 550. Although the armament must have been small, it achieved remarkable success. Many maritime cities and forts were captured, and finally Justinian succeeded in taking from the Visigoths the southeastern corner of the peninsula, with the cities of Carthage, Málaga, and Córduba, and then in extending the territory which eventually reached from Cape St. Vincent on the west to beyond Carthage on the east.[26] With some modifications the imperial province thus established in Spain remained under the rule of Constantinople for about seventy years. It is not perfectly clear whether this province was independent or was subordinate to the governor of Africa.[27] Some churches and other architectural monuments of Byzantine art have recently been discovered in Spain, but as far as one may judge, they are not of great value.[28]

The result of all these offensive wars was to double the extent of Justinian’s empire. Dalmatia, Italy, the eastern part of North Africa (part of present-day Algeria and Tunis), the southeast of Spain, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, and the Balearic Islands all became part of the Empire. The Mediterranean again became practically a Roman lake.

The boundaries of the Empire extended from the Pillars of Hercules, or the Straits of Gades, to the Euphrates. But in spite of this enormous success, Justinian’s achievements fell far short of his hopes. He did not succeed in reconquering the entire Western Roman Empire. The western part of North Africa, the Pyrenean peninsula, the northern portion of the Ostrogothic kingdom, north of the Alps (the former provinces of Rhaetia and Noricum) still remained outside of his power. The entire province of Gaul not only was completely independent of the Byzantine Empire but even to a certain extent was victorious over it, for Justinian was forced to cede Provence to the King of the Franks. It must also be remembered that the power of the Emperor was not equally firm throughout the vast newly conquered territory. The government had neither the authority nor the means to establish itself more solidly. And yet these territories could be retained by force only. That is why the brilliant outward success of Justinian’s offensive wars brought with it the beginnings of serious future complications, both political and economic.

The defensive wars of Justinian were far less successful and at times were even humiliating. These wars were carried on with Persia in the east and with the Slavs and the Huns in the north.

The two great powers of the sixth century, the Byzantine Empire and Persia, had been engaged for centuries in bloody wars on the eastern border. After the “endless”

peace with Persia, the Persian king, Chosroes Nushirvan, a gifted and skillful ruler, recognized the high ambitions of Justinian in the West and took advantage of the situation.[29] Aware of his own important interests in the border provinces, he seized upon a plea for help from the Ostrogoths as an opportunity to break the “endless”

peace and open hostilities against the Byzantine Empire.[30] A bloody war ensued, with apparent victory for the Persians. Belisarius was recalled from Italy but was unable to stop the advance of Chosroes, who forced his way into Syria and sacked and destroyed Antioch, “the city which was both ancient and of great importance and the first of all the cities which the Romans had throughout the East both in wealth and in size and in population and in beauty and in prosperity of every kind.”[31] In his onward march Chosroes reached the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. In the north the Persians attempted to force their way to the Black Sea but encountered an obstacle in the Lazi of the Caucasian province of Lazica (now Lazistan), which at the time was dependent on the Byzantine Empire. It was only after great difficulty that Justinian finally succeeded in buying a truce for five years, and then he was forced to pay a large sum of money for it. But even Chosroes wearied of the endless collisions, and in the year 561 or 562 the Byzantine Empire and Persia reached an agreement establishing peace for fifty years.

The historian Menander[32] contributed accurate and detailed information about the negotiations and the terms of this treaty. The Emperor undertook to pay Persia annually a very large sum of money, while the king of Persia promised to preserve religious toleration for Christians in Persia on the strict condition that they refrain from proselytizing. Roman and Persian merchants, whatever their wares, were to carry on their traffic solely at certain prescribed places where customhouses were stationed.

In this treaty the most important point for the Byzantine Empire was the agreement of the Persians to leave Lazica, the province on the southeastern coast of the Black Sea, and to resign it to the Romans. In other words, the Persians did not succeed in gaining a stronghold on the shores of the Black Sea; it remained in complete possession of the Byzantine Empire, a fact of great political and economic importance.[33]

Quite different was the nature of the defensive wars in the north, in the Balkan peninsula. The northern barbarians, the Bulgarians, and the Slavs had devastated the provinces of the peninsula even as far back as the reign of Anastasius. In the time of Justinian the Slavs appear for the first time under their own name, “Sclavenes,” in Procopius. Large hordes of Slavs and Bulgarians, whom Procopius calls Huns, crossed the Danube almost every year and penetrated deep into the Byzantine provinces, destroying everything with fire and sword. On one side they reached the outskirts of the capital and penetrated to the Hellespont; on the other they went through Greece as far as the Isthmus of Corinth and the shores of the Adriatic Sea in the west. During Justinian’s reign also the Slavs began to show a clearly defined movement toward the shores of the Aegean Sea. In their effort to reach this sea they menaced Thessalonica, one of the most important cities of the Empire, which, together with its environs, soon became one of the main Slavic centers in the Balkan peninsula. The imperial troops fought desperately against the Slavic invasions and often forced the Slavs to retreat beyond the Danube. But not all the Slavs went back. Justinian’s troops, occupied in other important campaigns, could not put a decisive end to the yearly incursions of the Slavs in the Balkan peninsula, and some Slavs remained there. The beginning in this period of the Slavonic problem in the Balkan peninsula should be emphasized; the problem was to become one of very great significance for the Empire during the late sixth and early seventh centuries.

Besides the Slavs, the German Gepids and Kotrigurs, a branch of the Hunnic race, invaded the Balkan peninsula from the north. In the winter of 558-59 the Kotrigurs under their chieftain, Zabergan, entered Thrace. From there one band was sent to ravage Greece, another invaded the Thracian Chersonese, and the third, consisting of cavalry, rode under Zabergan himself to Constantinople. The country was devastated.

Panic reigned in Constantinople. The churches of the invaded provinces sent their treasures to the capital or shipped them to the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus. Justinian appealed to Belisarius to save Constantinople in this crisis. The Kotrigurs eventually were defeated in all three points of attack, but Thrace, Macedonia, and Thessaly suffered a terrible economic blow from the invasion.[34]

The Hunnic danger was felt not only in the Balkan peninsula but also in the Crimea in the lonely Tauric peninsula, which was located in the Black Sea and which belonged in part to the Empire. Two cities there, Cherson and Bosporus, were famous for preserving Greek civilization for centuries in barbarous surroundings, and they also played an important part in the trade between the Empire and the territory of present-day Russia. Toward the close of the fifth century the Huns had occupied the plains of the peninsula and had begun to threaten the Byzantine possessions there, as well as a small Gothic settlement centered around Dory in the mountains under Byzantine protection. Under the pressure of the Hunnic danger, Justinian built and restored several forts and erected long walls whose traces are still visible,[35] a sort of limes Tauricus, which proved successful protection.[36]

Lastly, the missionary zeal of Justinian and Theodora did not overlook the African peoples who lived on the Upper Nile between Egypt and Abyssinia, above the First Cataract, the Blemyes, and the Nobadae (Nubians), their southern neighbors.

Through the energy and artfulness of Theodora, the Nobadae with their king, Silko, were converted to Monophysite Christianity, and the convert king joined with a Byzantine general to force the Blemyes to adopt the same faith. In order to celebrate his victory, Silko set up in a temple of the Blemyes an inscription about which Bury remarked: “The boast of this petty potentate might be appropriate in the mouth of Attila or of Tamurlane.”[37] The inscription was: “I, Silko, kinglet (βασιλισκος) of the Nobadae and of all the Ethiopians.”[38]

Significance of Justinian’s external policy. — To summarize Justinian’s entire external policy we must say that his endless and exhausting wars, which failed to realize all his hopes and projects, had a fatal effect upon the Empire in general. First of all, these gigantic undertakings demanded enormous expenditures. Procopius in his Secret History estimated, perhaps with some exaggeration, that Anastasius left a reserve, enormous for that time, which amounted to 320,000 pounds of gold (about $65,000,000

or $70,000,000), and this Justinian is supposed to have spent in a short time, even during his uncle’s reign.[39] According to another source of the sixth century, the Syrian John of Ephesus,[40] Anastasius’ reserve was not completely exhausted until the reign of Justin II, after the death of Justinian; this statement, however, is incorrect, The fund left by Anastasius, admittedly smaller than Procopius would have us believe, must have been of great value to Justinian in his undertakings. Yet it alone could not suffice.

The new taxes were greater than the exhausted population could pay. The Emperor’s attempts to curtail the expenditures of the state by economizing on the upkeep of the army brought about a reduction in the number of soldiers, which naturally made the western conquered provinces very unsafe.

From Justinian’s Roman point of view, his western campaigns are

comprehensible and natural, but from the point of view of the welfare of the Empire they must be recognized as superfluous and pernicious. The gap between the East and the West in the sixth century was already so great that the mere idea of uniting the two was an anachronism. A real union was out of the question. The conquered provinces could be retained by force only, and for this the Empire had neither power nor means.

Allured by his delusive dreams, Justinian failed to grasp the importance of the eastern border and the eastern provinces, which embodied the really vital interests of the Byzantine Empire. The western campaigns, displaying only the personal will of the Emperor, could not bring about lasting results, and the plan of restoring a united Roman Empire died with Justinian, though not forever. Meanwhile, his general external policy brought about an extremely severe internal economic crisis within the Empire.

The legislative work of Justinian and Tribonian.

Justinian became universally famous because of his legislative work, remarkable for its sweeping character. It was his opinion that an emperor “must be not only glorified with arms, but also armed with laws, so that alike the time of war and the time of peace may be rightly guided; he must be the strong protector of law as well as the triumpher over vanquished enemies.”[41] Furthermore, he believed, it was God who bestowed upon the emperors the right to create and interpret laws, and an emperor must be a lawgiver, with his rights sanctified from above. But, quite naturally, in addition to all these theoretical foundations, the Emperor was guided also by practical considerations, for he realized fully that Roman law of his time was in a very chaotic state.

Back in the days of the pagan Roman Empire, when the legislative power was entirely in the hands of the emperor, the sole form of legislation was the issuing of imperial constitutions, called laws or statute laws (leges). In contrast with these, all laws created by earlier legislation and developed by the jurists of the classical period were called jus vetus or jus antiquum. From the middle of the third century A.D., jurisprudence declined very rapidly. Juridical publications were limited to pure compilations, which aimed to assist judges unable to study the entire juridical literature by providing them with collections of extracts from imperial constitutions and the works of universally famous old jurists. But these collections were of a private nature and had no official sanction whatever, so that in real practice a judge had to look into all the imperial constitutions and into all of the classical literature, a task quite beyond the powers of any one man. There was no one central organ for the publication of the imperial constitutions. Increasing in quantity annually, scattered in various archives, they could not be used easily in practice, especially since new edicts very often repealed or changed old ones. All this explains the acute need for a single collection of imperial edicts accessible to those who had to use it. Much had been done in this direction before Justinian. In his own legislative work he was greatly aided by the earlier Codex Gregorianus, Codex Hermogenianus, and Codex Theodosianus. In order to facilitate the use of classical literature (the jus vetus), a decree was issued during the reign of Theodosius II and his western contemporary, Valentinian III, which granted paramount authority only to the works of the five most famous jurists. The remaining juridical writers could be disregarded. Of course, this was only a formal solution of the problem, especially since in the works of the five chosen jurists it was not at all easy to find suitable decisions for a given case, because the jurists often contradicted one another and also because the decisions of the classical jurists were often too much out of date to be practical for the changed living conditions. Official revision of the entire legal system and a summing up of its development through many centuries was greatly needed.

The earlier codes contained only the imperial constitutions issued during a certain period and did not touch upon juridical literature. Justinian undertook the enormous task of compiling a code of imperial constitutions up to his own time as well as revising the old juridical writings. His main assistant in this task and the soul of the entire undertaking was Tribonian.

The work progressed with astonishing rapidity. In February, 528, the Emperor gathered a commission of ten experts, including Tribonian, “the Emperor’s right hand in his great legal enterprise, and perhaps partly their inspirer,” and Theophilus, professor of law at Constantinople.[42] The problem of the commission was to revise the three older codes, to eliminate from them all the obsolete material, and to systematize the constitutions which had appeared since the publication of the Theodosian code. The results of all these labors were to be gathered in one collection.

As early as April, 529, the Justinian code (Codex Justinianus) was published. It was divided into ten books, containing the constitutions from the reign of the Emperor Hadrian to the time of Justinian; it became the sole authoritative code of laws in the Empire, thus repealing the three older codes. Although the compilation of Justinian’s code was greatly aided by the older codes, the attempt to revise the jus vetus was an original undertaking of the Emperor. In the year 530 Tribonian was instructed to gather a commission which would revise the works of all the classical jurists, make excerpts from them, reject all obsolete materials, eliminate all contradictions, and, finally, arrange all the materials collected in some definite order. For the purpose of doing this the commission had to read and study about two thousand books, containing over three million lines. This enormous work, which in Justinian’s own words, “before his command none ever expected or deemed to be at all possible for human endeavor”[43]

and “which freed all jus vetus of superfluous redundance,”[44] was completed in three years. The new code, published in the year 533, was subdivided into fifty books and was called the “Digest” (Digestum), or the “Pandects” (Pandectae), It found immediate application in the legal practices of the Empire.[45]

Though this Digest of Justinian is of very great importance, the haste with which it was compiled necessarily caused the work to be defective in certain respects. It contained many repetitions, contradictions, and some quite obsolete decisions. In addition to this, the full power given to the commission in the matter of abbreviating texts, interpreting them, and combining several texts into one, produced a certain arbitrariness in the final results, which sometimes even mutilated the ancient texts.

There was a decided lack of unity in this work. This fault is responsible for the fact that the learned jurists of the nineteenth century, who had high regard for Roman classical law, judged Justinian’s Digest very harshly. Still, the Digest, in spite of all its shortcomings, was of great practical value. It also preserved for posterity a wealth of material extracted from the classical Roman juridical writings which have not been preserved.

During the time of the compiling of the Digest, Tribonian and his two learned coadjutors, Theophilus, professor in Constantinople, and Dorotheus, professor at Beirut (in Syria), were charged with the solution of another problem. According to Justinian, not all “were able to bear the burden of all this mass of knowledge,” i.e., the Code and the Digest. The young men, for instance, “who, standing in the vestibules of law, are longing to enter the secrets thereof,”[46] could not attempt to master all the contents of the two large works, and it was necessary to make up a usable practical manual for them. Such a handbook of civil law, intended primarily for the use of students, was issued in the year 533. It was divided into four books and was called the “Institutions”

(Institutiones), or the “Institutes.” According to Justinian, these were supposed to conduct “all muddy sources of the jus vetus into one clear lake.”[47] The imperial decree which sanctioned the Institutions was addressed to “youth eager to know the laws” (cupidae legum juventuti).[48]

During the time that the Digest and the Institutions were being compiled, current legislation did not come to a standstill. Many new decrees were issued and a number of matters needed revision. In short, the Code, in its edition of the year 529, seemed out of date in many parts, and a new revision was undertaken and completed in the year 534. In November the second edition of the revised and enlarged Code, arranged in twelve books, was published under the title Codex repetitae praelectionis.

This edition nullified the earlier edition of 529 and contained the decrees of the period beginning with Hadrian and ending with the year 534. This work concluded the compilation of the Corpus. The first edition of the Code has not been preserved.

The decrees issued after the year 534 were called “Novels” (Novellas leges). While the Code, the Digest, and the Institutions were written in Latin, a great majority of the Novels were drawn up in Greek. This fact was an important concession to the demands of living reality from an emperor steeped in Roman tradition. In one Novel, Justinian wrote, “We have written this decree not in the native language, but in the spoken Greek, in order that it may become known to all through the ease of

comprehension.”[49] In spite of Justinian’s intention to collect all the Novels in one body, he did not succeed, though some private compilations of Novels were made during his reign. The Novels are considered the last part of Justinian’s legislative work and serve as one of the main sources on the internal history of his epoch.

Justinian felt that the four indicated parts, namely, the Code, the Digest, the Institutions, and the Novels, should form one Corpus of law, but during his reign they were not combined into such a collection. Only much later, in the Middle Ages, beginning with the twelfth century, during the revival of the study of Roman law in Europe, all of Justinian’s legislative works became known as the Corpus juris civilis, i.e., the “Corpus of Civil Law.” Today they are still known by this name.

The bulkiness of Justinian’s legislative work and the fact that it was written in Latin, little understood by the majority of the population, were responsible for the immediate appearance of a number of Greek commentaries and summaries of certain parts of the Code as well as some more or less literal translations (paraphrases) of the Institutions and the Digest with explanatory notes. These small legal collections in Greek, called forth by the needs of the time and by practical considerations, contained numerous mistakes and oversights with regard to their original Latin text; even so they thrust the original into the background and almost completely supplanted it.[50]

In conformity with the new legislative works the teaching of legal studies was also reformed. New programs of study were introduced. The course was announced to be of five years’ duration. The main subject for study during the first year was the Institutions; for the second, third, and fourth years, the Digest; and finally, in the fifth year, the Code. In connection with the new program Justinian wrote, “When all legal secrets are disclosed, nothing will be hidden from the students, and after reading through all the works put together for us by Tribonian and others, they will turn out distinguished pleaders and servants of justice, the ablest of men and successful in all times and places.”[51] In addressing the professors Justinian wrote, “Begin now under the governance of God to deliver to the students legal learning and to open up the way found by us, so that they, following this way, may become excellent ministers of justice and of the state, and the greatest possible honor may attend you for all ages to come.”[52] In his address to the students the Emperor wrote, “Receive with all diligence and with eager attention these laws of ours and show yourselves so well versed in them that the fair hope may animate you of being able, when the whole course of your legal study is completed, to govern our Empire in such regions as may be attributed to your care.”[53] The teaching itself was reduced to a simple mastery of the materials taught and to the interpretations based on these materials. Verifying or reinterpreting the text by citing original works of the classical jurists was not permitted. The students were allowed only to make literal translations and to compose brief paraphrases and extracts.

In spite of all the natural shortcomings in the execution and the numerous defects in method, the stupendous legislative work of the sixth century has been of unceasing and universal importance. Justinian’s code preserved the Roman law, which gave the basic principles for the laws regulating most of modern society. “The will of Justinian performed one of the most fruitful deeds for the progress of mankind,” said Diehl.[54] In the twelfth century, when the study of Roman law, or, as this phenomenon is usually called, the reception of Roman law, began in western Europe, Justinian’s code of civil law became the real law for many places. “Roman law,” said Professor I. A.

Pokrovsky, “awoke to new life and for a second time united the world. All legal developments in western Europe, even those of the present day, continue under the influence of Roman law … The most valuable contents of Roman legislation were introduced into paragraphs and chapters of contemporary codes and functioned under the name of these codes.”[55]

An interesting shift of viewpoint in the study of the legislative work of Justinian has occurred recently. Up to now this work, with the exception of the Novels, has been considered primarily as an aid for a closer acquaintance with Roman law, that is, as of auxiliary, not primary, significance. The Code was not studied for itself and never served as a subject for “independent” investigation. From this viewpoint it was objected that Justinian, or rather Tribonian, distorted classical law by either abbreviating or enlarging the text of the original. At present, however, emphasis is placed on whether or not Justinian’s work met the needs of his time and to what extent it did so. The changes in the classical text are properly ascribed not to the arbitrariness of the compiler but to a desire to adapt Roman law to living conditions in the Eastern Empire in the sixth century. The success of the Code in accomplishing this purpose must be studied with reference to the general social conditions of the time. Both Hellenism and Christianity must have influenced the work of the compilers, and the living customs of the East must have been reflected in the revisions of the ancient Roman law. Some scholars accordingly speak of the eastern character of the legislative work of Justinian. The problem of contemporary historical-juridical science, then, is to determine and evaluate Byzantine influences in Justinian’s Code, Digest, and Institutions.[56] The Novels of Justinian, as products of current legislation, naturally reflected the conditions and needs of contemporary life.

In Justinian’s time three law schools were flourishing, one in Constantinople, one in Rome, and one in Beirut. All other schools were suppressed lest they serve as bases for paganism. In 551 the city of Beirut (Berytus) was destroyed by a terrific earthquake followed by a tidal wave and fire. The school of Beirut was transferred to Sidon but had no further importance.[57]

In Russia under the Tsar Fedor Alekseievich (1676-1682) a project was organized to translate Justinian’s Corpus Juris into Russian. A German scholar published a contemporary report on the subject and called the project “a deed worthy of Hercules”

(hoc opus Hercule dignum), but unfortunately it was not carried out.

The ecclesiastical policy of Justinian.

As the successor of Roman Caesars, Justinian considered it his duty to restore the Roman Empire, and at the same time he wished to establish within the Empire one law and one faith. “One state, one law, and one church” — such was the brief formula of Justinian’s entire political career. Basing his conceptions on the principle of absolute power, he assumed that in a well-ordered state everything is subject to the authority of the emperor. Fully aware of the fact that the church might serve as a powerful weapon in the hands of the government, he used every effort to bring it into subjection.

Historians have tried to analyze the motives which guided Justinian’s church policy; some have concluded that with him politics was foremost and religion only a servant of the state,[58] others that this “second Constantine the Great was ready to forget his direct administrative duties wherever church matters were concerned.”[59] In his desire to be full master of the church, Justinian not only aimed to keep in his own hands the internal administration and the fate of the clergy, even those of highest rank, but he also considered it his right to determine a specific dogma for his subjects.

Whatever religious tendency was followed by the Emperor had to be followed also by his subjects. The Byzantine Emperor had the right to regulate the life of the clergy, to fill the highest hierarchic posts according to his own judgment, to appear as mediator and judge in the affairs of the clergy. He showed his favorable attitude toward the church by protecting the clergy and by promoting the erection of new churches and monasteries, to which he granted special privileges. He also exerted much effort in attempting to establish a unity of faith among his subjects. He frequently participated in dogmatical disputes, passing final decisions on debatable questions of doctrine. This policy of temporal authority in religious and ecclesiastical affairs, penetrating even the deepest regions of inner religious convictions of individuals, is known in history as Caesaropapism, and Justinian may be considered one of the most characteristic representatives of the Caesaropapistic tendency.[60] In his conception the ruler of the state was to be both Caesar and pope; he was to combine in his person all temporal and spiritual power. The historians who emphasize the political side of Justinian’s activities claim that the chief motive in his Caesaropapism was a desire to make secure his political power, to strengthen the government, and to find religious support for the throne which he had procured by chance.

Justinian had received a good religious education. He knew the Scriptures very well, was fond of participating in religious discussions, and wrote a number of church hymns. Religious conflicts seemed dangerous to him, even from a political point of view, for they menaced the unity of the Empire.

Although two predecessors of Justin and Justinian, Zeno and Anastasius, had followed the path of peaceful relations with the eastern Monophysitic church, thereby breaking away from the Roman church, Justin and Justinian definitely favored the Roman church and renewed friendly relations with it. This state of affairs was bound to alienate the eastern provinces, a fact that did not harmonize with the projects of Justinian, who was exceedingly anxious to establish a uniform faith throughout his vast Empire. The achievement of a church unity between the East and the West, between Alexandria, Antioch, and Rome, was impossible. “Justinian’s government,” said one historian, “was in its church policy a double-faced Janus with one face turned to the west, asking for direction from Rome, while the other, looking east, sought the truth from the Syrian and Egyptian monks.”[61]

The fundamental aim of Justinian’s church policy from the very beginning of his reign was the establishment of closer relations with Rome; hence he had to appear as the defender of the Council of Chalcedon, the decisions of which were strongly opposed by the eastern provinces. During Justinian’s reign the see of Rome enjoyed supreme church authority. In his letters to the bishop of Rome, Justinian addressed him as

“Pope,” “Pope of Rome,” “Apostolic Father,” “Pope and Patriarch,” etc., and the title of pope was applied exclusively to the bishop of Rome. In one epistle the Emperor addressed the Pope as the “head of all holy churches” (caput omnium sanctarum ecclesiarum),[62] and in one of his Novels he definitely stated that “the most blessed see of the archbishop of Constantinople, the New Rome, ranks second after the most holy apostolic see of Old Rome.”[63]

Justinian came into collision with the Jews, the pagans, and the heretics. The latter included the Manichaeans, the Nestorians, the Monophysites, the Arians, and representatives of other less significant religious doctrines. Arianism was widely spread in the West among the Germanic tribes. Survivals of paganism existed in various parts of the Empire, and the pagans still looked upon the Athenian school as their main center. The Jews and the followers of minor heretical movements were centered primarily in the eastern provinces. The widest following was, of course, the Monophysitic. The struggle with the Arians in the West assumed the form of military undertakings, which ended in the complete or partial subjection of the Germanic kingdoms. In view of Justinian’s conviction of the necessity of a unified faith in the Empire there could be no tolerance toward the leaders of other faiths and heretical teachings, who consequently were subjected during his reign to severe persecution carried out with the aid of military and civil authorities.

The closing of the Athenian school. — In order to eradicate completely the survivals of paganism, Justinian in the year 529 closed the famous philosophic school in Athens, the last rampart of effete paganism, the decline of which had been already precipitated by the organization of the University of Constantinople in the fifth century during the reign of Theodosius II. Many of the professors were exiled and the property of the school was confiscated. One historian writes, “The same year when St. Benedict destroyed the last pagan national sanctuary in Italy, the temple of Apollo in the sacred grove of Monte Cassino, saw also the destruction of the stronghold of classical paganism in Greece.”[64] From this period onward Athens definitely lost its former importance as a cultural center and deteriorated into a quiet, second-rate city. Some of the philosophers of the closed school decided to migrate to Persia, where, they had heard, King Chosroes was interested in philosophy. They were received in Persia with great esteem, but life in a foreign country was unbearable to these Greeks, and Chosroes determined to let them go back to their land, first arranging a treaty with Justinian by which the latter promised not to persecute them or force them to embrace the Christian faith. Justinian kept this promise and the pagan philosophers spent the rest of their lives in the Byzantine Empire in complete peace and safety. Justinian failed to bring about the complete eradication of paganism; it continued to exist secretly in remote localities.

The Jews and their religious kinsmen, the Samaritans of Palestine, unable to be reconciled to the government persecutions, rose in rebellion but were soon quelled by cruel violence. Many synagogues were destroyed, while in those which remained intact it was forbidden to read the Old Testament from the Hebrew text, which had to be replaced by the Greek version of seventy translators (the so-called “Septuagint”). The civil rights of the population were curtailed. The Nestorians were also severely persecuted.

Religious problems and the Fifth Ecumenical Council

Most important of all, of course, was Justinian’s attitude toward the Monophysites. First of all, his relations with them were of great political importance and involved the extremely significant problem of the eastern provinces, Egypt, Syria, and Palestine. In the second place, the Monophysites were supported by Justinian’s wife, Theodora, who had a powerful influence over him. One contemporary Monophysitic writer (John of Ephesus) called her a “Christ-loving woman filled with zeal” and “the most Christian empress, sent by God in difficult times to protect the persecuted.”[65]

Following her advice, Justinian attempted at the beginning of his reign to establish peaceful relations with the Monophysites, He permitted the bishops who had been exiled during the reign of Justin and at the beginning of his own reign to return home. He invited many Monophysites to the capital to a conciliatory religious conference, at which, according to an eyewitness, he appealed to them to discuss all doubtful questions with their antagonists “with all mildness and patience as behooves orthodox and saintly people.”[66] He gave quarters in one of the palaces in the capital to five hundred Monophysitic monks; they were likened to “a great and marvelous desert of solitaries.”[67] In 535 Severus, the head and “true legislator of Monophysitism,” arrived in Constantinople and remained there a year.[68] “The capital of the Empire, at the beginning of the year 535, was assuming somewhat the aspect which it had presented under the reign of Anastasius.”[69] The see of Constantinople was entrusted to the bishop of Trapezus (Trebizond), Anthimus, famous for his conciliatory policy towards the Monophysites. The Monophysites seemed triumphant.

However, things changed very soon. Pope Agapetus and a party of the Akoimetoi (extreme orthodox), upon arriving at Constantinople, raised such an uproar against the religious pliancy of Anthimus that Justinian was forced regretfully to change his policy.

Anthimus was deposed and his place was taken by the orthodox presbyter, Menas. One source relates the following conversation between the Emperor and the pope: “I shall either force you to agree with us, or else I shall send you into exile,” said Justinian, to which Agapetus answered, “I wished to come to the most Christian of all emperors, Justinian, and I have found now a Diocletian; however, I fear not your threats.”[70] It is very likely that the Emperor’s concessions to the pope were caused partly by the fact that the Ostrogothic war began at this time in Italy and Justinian needed the support of the West.

In spite of this concession, Justinian did not forsake further attempts of reconciliation with the Monophysites, This time he raised the famous question of the Three Chapters. The matter concerned three church writers of the fifth century: Theodore of Mopsuestia, Theodoret of Cyrus, and Ibas of Edessa. The Monophysites accused the Council of Chalcedon because in spite of the Nestorian ideas of these three writers, it had failed to condemn them. The pope and the Akoimetoi advanced very strong opposition. Justinian, greatly provoked, declared that in this case the Monophysites were right and the orthodox must agree with them. He issued in the early forties a decree which anathematized the works of the three writers and threatened to do the same to all people who might attempt to defend or approve them.[71]

Justinian wished to make this edict obligatory on all churches and demanded that it be signed by all the patriarchs and bishops. But this was not easy to accomplish.

The West was troubled by the fact that the willingness to sign this imperial edict might mean an encroachment upon the authority of the Council of Chalcedon. One learned deacon of Carthage wrote, “If the definitions of the Council of Chalcedon are being disputed, then is it not possible that also the Council of Nicaea might be subject to a similar menace?”[72] In addition to this the question was raised as to whether it was permissible to condemn dead men, since all three writers had died in the preceding century. Finally, some leaders of the West were of the opinion that by this edict the Emperor was violating the conscience of members of the church. This view was not held in the eastern church, where the intervention of the imperial power in deciding dogmatical disputes was approved by long practice. The eastern church also cited King Josiah in the Old Testament, who not only put down the living idolatrous priests, but also opened the sepulchers of those who died long before his reign and burned their bones upon the altar (II Kings 23:16). Thus the eastern church was willing to accept the decree and condemn the Three Chapters; the western church was not. In the end, Justinian’s decree never received general church recognition.

In order to attract the western church to his support Justinian had to secure first the approval of the Pope of Rome. Consequently the pope of that period, Vigilius, was summoned to Constantinople, where he remained for more than seven years. Upon his arrival he declared openly that he was against the edict and excommunicated the Patriarch of Constantinople, Menas. But gradually he yielded to the influence of Justinian and Theodora, and in the year 548 he issued the condemnation of the Three Chapters, or the so-called “Judicatum,” thus adding his voice to the votes of the four eastern patriarchs. This was the last triumph of Theodora, who was convinced of the inevitable final victory of Monophysitism. She died in the same year. Upon the invitation of Vigilius, the priests of western Europe had to put up incessant prayers for

“the most clement princes, Justinian and Theodora.”[73]

The western church, however, did not approve of the concession made by

Vigilius. The African bishops, having summoned a council, went even so far as to excommunicate him. Stirred by these events, the pope wavered in his decision and revoked the Judicatum. Justinian decided to resort to the aid of an ecumenical council, which was convoked in Constantinople in the year 553.

The problem of this Fifth Ecumenical Council was much simpler than the

problems of the earlier councils. It did not have to deal with any new heresy; it was faced only with the problem of regulating some questions connected with the decisions of the third and fourth councils, relative partly to Nestorianism, but concerning primarily the Monophysitic faith. The Emperor was very desirous that the pope, who was in Constantinople at the time, be present at the Council, but under various excuses Vigilius avoided attending it, and all the sessions of the Council took place without him.

The Council looked into the works of the three disputed writers and agreed with the opinion of the Emperor. The resolution of the Council condemned and anathematized

“the impious Theodoret who was bishop of Mopsuestia, together with his impious works, and all that Theodoret had written impiously, and the impious letter, attributed to Ibas, and those who have written or are writing to defend them (ad defensionem eorum).”[74] The decrees of this Council were declared obligatory, and Justinian instituted a policy of persecuting and exiling the bishops who did not agree with the condemnation of the Three Chapters. Pope Vigilius was exiled to one of the islands of the Sea of Marmora. In the end he consented to sign the condemnation and was then permitted to return to Rome, but he died on his way at Syracuse. The West did not accept the decisions of the Council of 553 until the end of the sixth century, and only when Gregory I the Great (590-604) proclaimed that “at the Synod, which was concerned with the Three Chapters, nothing was violated or in any way changed in the matter of religion,”[75] was the Council of 553 recognized throughout the West as an ecumenical council on a par with the first four councils.

The intense religious struggle which Justinian expected would reconcile the Monophysites with the orthodox, did not bring the results he hoped for. The Monophysites did not seem satisfied with the concessions made to them. In the last years of his life Justinian apparently favored the Monophysites. The bishops who disagreed with him were exiled. Monophysitism might have become the state religion, obligatory on all, and this would have led to new and very serious complications. But at this time the aged Emperor died, and with his death came a change in the religious policy of the government.

In summarizing the religious and ecclesiastical policy of Justinian the question might be asked whether or not he succeeded in establishing a united church in the Empire. The answer must, of course, be in the negative. Orthodoxy and Monophysitism did not become reconciled; Nestorianism, Manichaeism, Judaism, and, to some extent, paganism, continued to exist. There was no religious unity, and Justinian’s attempt to bring it about must be admitted a failure.

But in speaking of Justinian’s religious policy we must not disregard his missionary activities. As a Christian emperor he considered it his duty to spread Christianity beyond the boundaries of his empire. The conversion of the Heruli on the Danube, and of some Caucasian tribes, as well as of the native tribes of Northern Africa and the Middle Nile occurred in Justinian’s time.[76]

The internal policy of Justinian.

The Nika revolt. — At the time of Justinian’s accession to the throne the internal life of the Empire was in a state of disorder and disturbance. Poverty was widespread, especially in the provinces; taxes were not paid regularly. The factions of the circus, the large landowners, the relatives of Anastasius, robbed of their right to the throne, and finally, the dissenting religious groups increased the internal troubles and created an alarming situation.

When he mounted the throne, Justinian understood clearly that the internal life of the Empire was greatly in need of wide reforms, and he attacked this problem courageously. The main sources of information on this phase of Justinian’s activity are his Novels, the treatise of John the Lydian, On the Administration (Magistrates) of the Roman State, and The Secret History of his contemporary, Procopius. In recent times much valuable material has been found also in the papyri.

At the very beginning of his reign Justinian witnessed a frightful rebellion in the capital which nearly deprived him of the throne. The central quarter in Constantinople was the circus or the Hippodrome, the favorite gathering place of the inhabitants of the capital, so fond of chariot races. A new emperor, after his coronation, usually appeared at this Hippodrome in the imperial box, the Kathisma, to receive the first greetings of the mob. The charioteers wore robes of four colors: green, blue, white, and red. The chariot races had remained the favorite spectacle at the circus since the time when the early Christian church had prohibited gladiatorial combats. Well-organized factions were formed around the charioteers of each color. These groups had their own treasury for financing the charioteers, their horses and chariots, and always competed and struggled with the parties of other colors. They soon became known under the names of Green, Blue, White, and Red. The circus and the races, as well as the circus factions, came to the Byzantine Empire from the Roman Empire, and later literary tradition attributes their origin to the mythical times of Romulus and Remus. The original meaning of the names of the four parties is not very clear. The sources of the sixth century, Justinian’s period, claim that these names corresponded to the four elements: the earth (green), water (blue), air (white), and fire (red). The circus festivities were distinguished by extreme splendor and the number of spectators sometimes reached 50,000.

The circus factions, designated in the Byzantine period as demes, gradually changed into political parties expressing various political, social, or religious tendencies. The voice of the mob in the circus became a sort of public opinion and voice of the nation. “In the absence of the printing press,” said Th. I. Uspensky, “the Hippodrome became the only place for a free expression of public opinion, which at times imposed its will upon the government.”[77] The emperor himself was sometimes obliged to appear in the circus to offer the people explanation of his actions.

In the sixth century the most influential factions were the Blues (Venetoi), who stood for orthodoxy, hence also called Chalcedonians, adherents of the Council of Chalcedon; and the Greens (Prasinoi), who stood for Monophysitism. In the time of Anastasius a rebellion had arisen against the Greens, whom the Monophysite emperor favored. After terrible raids and destruction the orthodox party proclaimed a new emperor and rushed to the Hippodrome, where the frightened Anastasius appeared without his diadem and ordered the heralds to announce to the people that he was ready to renounce his title. The mob, mollified at seeing the emperor in such a pitiful state, calmed down and the revolt subsided. But the episode illustrates the influence exerted by the Hippodrome and the mob of the capital upon the government and even the emperor himself. With the accession of Justin and Justinian orthodoxy prevailed, and the Blues triumphed. Theodora, however, favored the Greens, so that even on the imperial throne itself there was division.

It is almost certain that the demes represented not only political and religious tendencies, but also different class interests. The Blues may be regarded as the party of the upper classes, the Greens of the lower. If this is true, the Byzantine factions acquire a new and very important significance as a social element.[78]

An interesting recurrence of pattern is to be found in the fact that early in the sixth century in Rome under Theodoric the Great two rival parties, the Greens and the Blues, continued to fight, the Blues representing the upper classes and the Greens the lower.[79]

An important new approach to this question has recently been emphasized and discussed. A Russian scholar, the late A. Dyakonov, pointed out “the error in method” of Rambaud, Manojlović, and others who fail to differentiate between the demes and the factions, which of course are not identical at all and must be dealt with separately. The object of Dyakonov’s study was not to solve the problem, but to raise it again, so that this new approach may be considered in future more highly specialized works.[80]

The causes of the formidable rebellion of 532 in the capital were numerous and diverse. The opposition directed against Justinian was threefold: dynastic, public, and religious. The surviving nephews of Anastasius felt that they had been circumvented by Justin’s, and later Justinian’s, accession to the throne, and, supported by the Monophysitical-minded party of the Greens, they aimed to depose Justinian. The public opposition arose from general bitterness against the higher officials, especially against the famous jurist, Tribonian, and the praetorian prefect, John of Cappadocia, who aroused great dissatisfaction among the people by their violation of laws and their shameful extortions and cruelty. Finally, the religious opposition was that of the Monophysites, who had suffered great restrictions during the early years of Justinian’s reign. All these causes together brought about a revolt of the people in the capital and it is interesting to note that the Blues and the Greens, abandoning for a time their religious discrepancies, made common cause against the hated government. The Emperor negotiated with the people through the herald in the Hippodrome, but no settlement was reached.[81] The revolt spread rapidly through the city, and the finest buildings and monuments of art were subjected to destruction and fire. Fire was also set to the basilica of St. Sophia, the site of which was later chosen for the famous cathedral of Sr. Sophia. The rallying cry of the rioters, Nika, meaning “victory” or

“vanquish,” has given this uprising the name of the Nika revolt. Justinian’s promise to dismiss Tribonian and John of Cappadocia from their posts and his personal appeal to the mob at the Hippodrome were of no effect. A nephew of Anastasius was proclaimed emperor. Sheltered in the palace, Justinian and his councilors were already contemplating flight when Theodora rose to the occasion. Her exact words appear in The Secret History of Procopius: “It is impossible for a man, when he has come into the world, not to die; but for one who has reigned, it is intolerable to be an exile … If you wish, O Emperor, to save yourself, there is no difficulty: we have ample funds; yonder is the sea, and there are the ships. Yet reflect whether, when you have once escaped to a place of security, you will not prefer death to safety. I agree with an old saying that the purple is a fair winding sheet.”[82] The Emperor rallied and entrusted to Belisarius the task of crushing the revolt, which had already lasted for six days. The general drove the rioters into the Hippodrome, enclosed them there, and killed from thirty to forty thousand. The revolt was quelled, the nephews of Anastasius were executed, and Justinian once more sat firmly on the throne.[83]

Taxation and financial problems. — One of the distinguishing features of Justinian’s internal policy was his obstinate, still not fully explained, struggle with the large landowners. This strife is discussed in the Novels and the papyri, as well as in The Secret History of Procopius, who, in spite of defending the views of the nobility and in spite of crowding into this libel a number of absurd accusations against Justinian, in his eyes an upstart on the imperial throne, still paints an extremely interesting picture of the social struggle in the sixth century. The government felt that its most dangerous rivals and enemies were the large landowners, who conducted the affairs of their large estates with complete disregard for the central power. One of Justinian’s Novels, blaming the desperate condition of state and private landownership in the provinces upon the unrestrained conduct of local magnates, directed to the Cappadocian proconsul the following significant lines: “News has come to us about such exceedingly great abuses in the provinces that their correction can hardly be accomplished by one person of high authority. And we are even ashamed to tell with how much impropriety the managers of landlords’ estates promenade about, surrounded by bodyguards, how they are followed by large mobs of people, and how shamelessly they rob everything…

State property has almost entirely gone over into private ownership, for it was robbed and plundered, including all the herds of horses, and not a single man spoke up against it, for all the mouths were stopped with gold,”[84] It appears that the Cappadocian magnates had full authority in their provinces and that they even maintained troops of their own, armed men and bodyguards, and seized private as well as state lands. It is interesting to note also that this Novel was issued four years after the Nika revolt.

Similar information about Egypt in the time of Justinian is found in the papyri. A member of a famous Egyptian landowning family, the Apions, possessed in the sixth century vast landed property in various parts of Egypt. Entire villages were part of his possessions. His household was almost regal. He had his secretaries and stewards, his hosts of workmen, his own assessors and tax collectors, his treasurer, his police, even his own postal service. Such magnates had their own prisons and maintained their own troops.[85] Large estates were concentrated also in the hands of the churches and monasteries.

Against these large landowners Justinian waged a merciless struggle. By

intervention in problems of heredity, forced and sometimes false donations to the Emperor, confiscation on the basis of false evidence, or the instigation of religious trials tending to deprive the church of its landed property, Justinian consciously and persistently aimed at the destruction of large landownership. Particularly numerous confiscations were made after the revolutionary attempt of the year 532. Justinian did not succeed, however, in completely crushing large landownership, and it remained one of the unfailing features of the life of the Empire in later periods.

Justinian saw and understood the defects of the administration expressed in the venality, theft, and extortions which caused so much poverty and ruin, and which inevitably aroused internal troubles. He realized that such a state of things within the Empire had evil effects upon social security, city finance, and agricultural conditions, and that financial disorder introduced general confusion into the life of the Empire. He was truly anxious to remedy the existing situation. He conceived it to be the emperor’s duty to introduce new and great reforms, which he viewed as an obligation of imperial service and an act of gratitude to God, who bestowed upon the emperor all his favors.

But as a convinced representative of absolute imperial power, Justinian considered a centralized administration with an improved and completely obedient staff of bureaucrats the only means of ameliorating conditions in the Empire.

His attention turned first of all to the financial situation in the Empire, which very justly inspired extremely serious fears. The military undertakings demanded enormous means, yet taxes were coming into the treasury with constantly increasing difficulties. This fact alarmed the Emperor, and in one of his Novels he wrote that in view of the large war expenses his subjects “must pay the government taxes willingly and in full.”[86] Thus, on the one hand, he was the champion of the inviolability of the rights of the treasury, while on the other hand he proclaimed himself me defender of the taxpayer against the extortions of officials.

Two great Novels of the year 535 are exceedingly important for the study of Justinian’s reforms. They contain the principal foundations of the administrative reforms and the definitions of the new duties of government officials. One Novel orders the rulers “to treat with fatherly consideration all the loyal citizens, to protect the subjects against oppression, to refuse all bribes, to be just in sentences and administrative decisions, to persecute crime, protect the innocent, and punish the guilty according to law, and, on the whole, treat the subjects as a father would treat his own children.”[87] But at the same time officials, “while keeping their hands clean [of bribes] everywhere,” must vigilantly look after the government income, “increasing the state treasury and exerting all possible effort for its benefit.”[88] Taking into consideration the conquest of Africa and the Vandals, as well as the newly contemplated campaigns, says the Novel, “it is imperative that the government taxes be paid in full and willingly at definite dates. Thus, if you will meet the rulers reasonably and help them collect for us the taxes with ease and dispatch, then we will laud the officials for their zeal and you for your wisdom; and beautiful and peaceful harmony will reign everywhere between the rulers and the ruled.”[89] The officials had to take a solemn oath to administer their duties honestly, but were at the same time made responsible for the complete payment of taxes in the provinces entrusted to them. The bishops were supposed to watch the behavior of the officials. Those who were found guilty of offense were subject to severe punishment, while those who carried out their duties honestly were promised promotion. Thus, the duty of government officials and government taxpayers is very simple in Justinian’s conception: the former must be honest men; the latter must pay their taxes willingly, fully, and regularly. In subsequent decrees the Emperor often cited these basic principles of his administrative reforms.

Not all the provinces of the Empire were governed alike. There were some, especially those along the borders, populated by restless natives, which demanded firmer administration than others. The reforms of Diocletian and Constantine increased excessively the provincial division and established a vast staff of bureaucracy, separating very distinctly civil and military authority. In Justinian’s time, in some instances, there was a break with this system and a return to the former pre-Diocletian system. Justinian introduced the practice of combining several small provinces, particularly in the East, into larger units; while in some provinces of Asia Minor, in view of frequent disagreements and conflicts between military and civil authorities, he ordered the combining of the two functions in the hands of one person, a governor, who was called praetor. The Emperor’s particular attention was directed to Egypt, mainly to Alexandria, which supplied Constantinople with corn. According to one Novel, the organization of the trade in Egypt and the delivery of corn to the capital was in great disorder.[90] With the aim of re-establishing this highly important branch of government life, Justinian entrusted a civil official, the Augustalis (vir spectabilis Augustalis), with military authority over the two Egyptian provinces[91] as well as over Alexandria, that densely populated and restless city. But these attempts to centralize territories and power in the provinces were not systematic during his reign.

While carrying out the idea of combining authority in some of the eastern provinces, Justinian retained the former separation of civil and military power in the West, especially in the recently conquered prefectures of North Africa and Italy.

The Emperor hoped that his numerous hasty decrees had corrected all internal shortcomings of the administration and “given the empire, through his brilliant undertakings, a new period of bloom.”[92] He was mistaken. All his decrees couid not change mankind. It is very evident from later novels that rebellions, extortion, and ruin continued. It became necessary to republish constantly imperial decrees to remind the population of their existence, and in some provinces it was occasionally necessary to proclaim martial law.

At times, when the need for money was very urgent, Justinian used the very measures which were prohibited in his decrees. He sold offices at high prices and, regardless of his promise to the contrary, introduced new taxes, though his Novels show clearly that he was fully aware of the incapacity of the population to meet them.

Under the pressure of financial difficulties he resorted to the corruption of money and issued debased coin; but the attitude of the populace became so threatening that he was forced almost immediately to revoke his measure.[93] All possible means were used to fill the government treasury, the fisc, “which took the place of a stomach feeding all parts of the body,” as Corippus, a poet of the sixth century, puts it.[94] The strict measures which accompanied the collection of taxes reached their extreme limits and had a disastrous effect upon the exhausted population. One contemporary says that “a foreign invasion seemed less formidable to the taxpayers than the arrival of the officials of the fisc.”[95] Villages became impoverished and deserted because their inhabitants fled from government oppression. The productivity of the land was reduced to nothing. Revolts sprang up in various localities.

Realizing that the Empire was ruined and that economy was the only means of salvation, Justinian resorted to economy in the most dangerous directions. He reduced the army in numbers, and frequently kept back its pay. But the army, consisting mainly of mercenaries, often revolted against this practice and took vengeance on the unprotected people. The reduction of the army had other serious consequences: it left the borders unprotected and the barbarians crossed the Byzantine boundaries freely to carry on their devastating raids. The fortresses constructed by Justinian were not maintained. Unable to oppose the barbarians by force, Justinian had to resort to bribes, which involved very large new expenditures. According to the French scholar, Diehl, this formed a vicious circle. Lack of money forced a decrease of the army; the absence of soldiers necessitated more money to buy off enemies.[96]

When to all this was added the frequent famines, epidemics, and earthquakes which ruined the population and increased the demands for government aid, the state of the Empire at the end of Justinian’s reign was truly lamentable. Among these calamities the devastating plague of 542 must be mentioned. It began near Pelusium, on the borders of Egypt. The suggested Ethiopian origin is vague; there was a sort of ancient and traditional suspicion that disease usually came out of Ethiopia. As Thucydides studied the plague at Athens at the beginning of the Peloponnesian war, so the historian Procopius, who witnessed its course at Constantinople, detailed the nature and effects of the bubonic disease. From Egypt the infection spread northward to Palestine and Syria; in the following year it reached Constantinople, then spread over Asia Minor and through Mesopotamia into Persia. Over the sea it invaded Italy and Sicily. In Constantinople the visitation lasted four months. The mortality was enormous; cities and villages were abandoned, agriculture stopped, and famine, panic, and the flight of large numbers of people away from the infected places threw the Empire into confusion. All court functions were discontinued. The Emperor himself was stricken by the plague, although the attack did not prove fatal.[97] This was only one contributing factor to the gloomy picture reflected in the first Novel of Justin II, where he speaks of “the government treasury overburdened with many debts and reduced to extreme poverty,” and “of an army so desperately in need of all necessaries that the empire was easily and frequently attacked and raided by the barbarians.”[98]

Justinian’s attempts in the field of administrative reform were a complete failure.

Financially the Empire stood on the verge of ruin. There was a close connection between the internal and external policies of the Emperor; his sweeping military undertakings in the West, which demanded colossal expenditure, ruined the East and left his successors a troublesome heritage. As evinced by the early Novels, Justinian sincerely intended to bring order into the Empire and to raise the moral standards of government institutions, but these noble intentions gave way to the militarism dictated by his conception of his duties as heir of the Roman Caesars.

Commerce during the reign of Justinian.

The period of Justinian left distinct traces in the history of Byzantine commerce.

In the Christian period, as in the days of the pagan Roman Empire, the main trade was carried on with the East. The rarest and most valuable articles of trade arrived from the distant lands of China and India. Western Europe of the earlier Middle Ages, in the period of the formation of new Germanic states, some of which were conquered by Justinian’s generals, lived under conditions extremely unfavorable for the development of its own economic life. The Eastern Roman Empire, with its advantageously situated capital became, by force of circumstances, the mediator between the West and the East, and kept this position until the period of the Crusades.

But the commercial relations of the Byzantine Empire with the peoples of the Far East were not direct; the mediating agent here was the Persian Empire of the Sassanids, which gained enormous profits on the commercial transactions of the Byzantine merchants. There were at this time two main trade routes: one by land, the other by sea. The overland caravan route led from the western borders of China through Sogdiana (now Bokhara or Bukhara) to the Persian border, where the wares were transferred by Chinese merchants to the Persians, who transported them to the customhouses on the Byzantine border. The sea route used was as follows: Chinese merchants transported their wares on vessels as far as the island of Taprobane (now Ceylon), south of the peninsula of Hindostan. There Chinese goods were reloaded, chiefly into Persian vessels, which carried their cargo by way of the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf to the mouths of the Tigris and Euphrates, whence they were forwarded along the Euphrates to the Byzantine customhouse situated on this river.

Byzantine commerce with the East, therefore, depended very closely upon the relations between the Empire and Persia, and since wars with Persia were a regular occurrence in Byzantine life, trade relations with the East suffered constant interruptions and great harm. The main article of trade was Chinese silk, the production of which was guarded in deep secrecy by China. In view of the difficulties involved in its production, its prices and the prices of silk stuffs greatly in demand on Byzantine markets rose at times to unbelievable figures. Besides Chinese silk, China and India exported to the West perfumes, spices, cotton, precious stones, and other articles demanded primarily in the Byzantine Empire. Unreconciled to the economic dependence of the Byzantine Empire upon Persia, Justinian set himself the goal of finding a trade route to China and India which would lie outside of the realm of Persian influence.

Cosmas Indicopleustes. — During this period a remarkable literary work made its appearance, the Christian Topography or Cosmography, written by Cosmas

Indicopleustes[99] in the middle of the sixth century. This work is extremely valuable for the information it contains about the geography of the basins of the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean as well as about the commercial relations with India and China.

Cosmas was born in Egypt, very likely in Alexandria. He engaged in commerce from his early youth, but, discontented with the trade conditions in his country, he undertook a number of distant Journeys during which he visited the shores of the Red Sea, the Sinaitic peninsula, Ethiopia (Abyssinia), and perhaps reached as far as Ceylon.

He was a Christian of the Nestorian faith, and in his later life became a monk. His Greek surname, Indicopleustes, is found even in very old versions of his work.

The fundamental aim of The Christian Topography is to prove to the Christians that, regardless of the system of Ptolemy, the earth does not have the shape of a globe, but rather that of an oblong rectangular box similar to the sanctuary in the tabernacle of Moses, while the entire universe is analogous in form to the general form of the tabernacle. But it is the great historical importance of this work, which lies in the information about geography and commerce, which is relevant here. The author conscientiously informed his reader about the sources used and evaluated each of them thoroughly. He discriminated between his own observations as an eyewitness and the information obtained from eyewitnesses, and facts learned by hearsay. From his own experience he described the palace of the Abyssinian king in the city of Axum (in the so-called Kingdom of Axum), and gave an accurate account of several interesting inscriptions in Nubia and on the shores of the Red Sea. He told also of Indian and African animals, and, roost important of all, gave very valuable information about the island Taprobane (Ceylon), explaining its commercial importance during the early Middle Ages. It appears from this account that in the sixth century Ceylon was the center of world commerce between China on one hand and eastern Africa, Persia, and through Persia the Byzantine Empire, on the other hand. In Cosmas’ words, “the island, being as it is in a central position, is much frequented by ships from all parts of India and from Persia and Ethiopia.”[100] The Persian Christians who remained permanently on this island were of the Nestorian faith and had their own church and clergy.

It is interesting to note that in spite of an almost complete absence of direct trade relations between the Byzantine Empire and India, Byzantine coins from the epoch of Constantine the Great appear in Indian markets, carried there apparently, not by Byzantine merchants, but by the mediating Persians and Abyssinians (Axumites).

Coins with the names of the Byzantine emperors of the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries

— Arcadius, Theodosius, Marcian, Leo I, Zeno, Anastasius I, Justin I — have been found in southern and northern India.[101] In the international economic life of the sixth century the Byzantine Empire played a role so important that, according to Cosmas,

“all the nations carry on their trade in Roman money (the Byzantine gold coin, nomisma or solidus), from one extremity of the earth to the other. This money is regarded with admiration by all men to whatever kingdom they belong, since there is no other country in which the like of it exists.”[102]

Cosmas told a very interesting story which shows the profound respect

commanded in India by the Byzantine gold coin (nomisma):

The King of Ceylon, having admitted a Byzantine merchant, Sopatrus, and some Persians to an audience and having received their salutations, requested them to be seated. He then asked them; “In what state are your countries, and how go things with them?” To this they replied: “They go well.” Afterward, as the conversation proceeded, the King inquired: “Which of your kings is the greater and the more powerful?” The elderly Persian, snatching the word, answered: “Our king is both the more powerful and the greater and richer, and indeed is King of Kings, and whatsoever he desires, that he is able to do.” Sopatrus, on the other hand, sat mute. So the King asked: “Have you, Roman, nothing to say?” “What have I to say,” he rejoined, “when he there has said such things? But if you wish to learn the truth you have the two kings here present.

Examine each and you will see which of them is the grander and the more powerful.”

The King, upon hearing this, was amazed at his words and asked: “How say you that I have both kings here?” “You have,” replied Sopatrus, “the money of both — the nomisma of one, and the drachma, that is, the miliarision of the other. Examine the image of each and you will see the truth…” After having examined them, the King said that the Romans were certainly a splendid, powerful, and sagacious people. So he ordered great honor to be paid to Sopatrus, causing him to be mounted on an elephant and conducted round the city with drums beating and high state. These circumstances were told us by Sopatrus himself and his companions, who had accompanied him to that island from Adule; and as they told the story, the Persian was deeply chagrined at what had occurred.[103]

In addition to the historical-geographical value, the work of Cosmas is also of great artistic value because of the numerous pictures (miniatures) which adorn his text. It is likely that some of these pictures were the work of the author himself. The original manuscript of the sixth century has not survived, but the later manuscripts of The Christian Topography contain copies of the original miniatures and thus serve as a valuable source for the history of early Byzantine, especially Alexandrine, art. “The miniatures in the work of Cosmas,” said N. P. Kondakov, “are more characteristic of Byzantine art of the period of Justinian, or rather of the brilliant part of his reign, than any other monument of that period, except some of the mosaics at Ravenna.”[104]

The work of Cosmas was later translated into Slavonic and became widely spread among the Slavs. There exist numerous Russian versions of The Christian Topography supplemented with the portrait of Cosmas Indicopleustes and numerous pictures and miniatures which are of much interest in the history of old Russian art.[105]

Protection of Byzantine commerce. — Justinian made it his aim to free Byzantine commerce of its dependence on Persia. This involved establishing direct

communication with India by way of the Red Sea. The northeastern corner of the Red Sea (in the Gulf of Akaba) was occupied by the Byzantine port, Ayla, whence Indian wares could be transported by a land route through Palestine and Syria to the Mediterranean Sea. Another port, Clysma (near present-day Suez), was situated on the northwestern shore of the Red Sea, and from it was directly connected with the Mediterranean Sea. On one of the islands at the entrance to the Gulf of Akaba, Iotabe (now Tiran), near the southern extremity of the Sinai peninsula, a customhouse for bygoing vessels was established during Justinian’s reign.[106] But the number of Byzantine ships in the Red Sea was not sufficient for carrying on a regulated commerce.

This fact forced Justinian to establish close relations with the Christian Abyssinians in the Kingdom of Axum, urging them to buy silk in India and then resell it to the Byzantine Empire. He apparently wanted them to play the part of trade mediators between the Byzantine Empire and India, as the Persians had done up to that time. But these attempts on the part of the Emperor were not successful, for the Abyssinian merchants could not compete with Persian influence in India and the monopoly of silk buying still remained in the hands of Persian merchants. In the end Justinian did not succeed in opening up new routes for direct trade with the East. In intervals of peace the Persians still remained the mediators in the most important trade, and continued to make large profits.

Chance came to the aid of Justinian and helped him solve the highly significant problem of the Empire’s silk trade. Some person or persons[107] successfully evaded the watchfulness of the Chinese inspectors and smuggled into the Byzantine Empire some silkworm eggs from Serinda, which formed the basis of a new industry for the Greeks. They made rapid progress. Large plantations of mulberry trees sprang up and many factories for weaving silk stuffs were quickly established. The most important of these silk factories were situated in Constantinople; others were founded in the Syrian cities of Beirut, Tyre, and Antioch, and later in Greece, mainly at Thebes. One existed in Alexandria in Egypt, for Egyptian clothes were sold in Constantinople.[108] The silk industry became a state monopoly and yielded the government a large income, which was not sufficient, however, to ameliorate the critical financial situation of the empire.

Byzantine silk stuffs were carried to all parts of western Europe and adorned the palaces of western kings and the residences of rich merchants. This caused some highly significant changes in the commerce of Justinian’s period, and his successor, Justin II, could show to a Turkish ambassador visiting his court the industry in full swing.[109]

Justinian undertook the colossal task of defending the Empire from the attacks of enemies by constructing a number of fortresses and well-protected border lines. In a few years he erected on all the borders of the Empire an almost uninterrupted line of fortifications (castella) in northern Africa, on the shores of the Danube and Euphrates, in the mountains of Armenia, and on the distant Crimean peninsula, thus restoring and enlarging the remarkable defensive system created by Rome during an earlier period.

By this constructive work Justinian, according to Procopius, “saved the empire.”[110]

“If we were to enumerate the fortresses,” Procopius wrote in On Buildings, “which were erected here by the Emperor Justinian, to people living in distant foreign lands, deprived of the opportunity to verify personally our words, I am convinced that the number of constructions would seem to them fabulous and completely

incredible,”[111] Even today the existing ruins of numerous fortresses along the borders of the former Byzantine Empire astonish the modern traveler. Nor did Justinian limit his construction to fortifications alone. As a Christian emperor he fostered the building of many temples, of which the incomparable St. Sophia of Constantinople stands out as an epoch-making mark in the history of Byzantine art. St.

Sophia is described later. In all likelihood he carried his construction even to the mountains of the far-off Crimea, and erected there a great church (basilica), in Dory, the chief center of the Gothic settlement. A fragment of an inscription with his name has been excavated there.[112]

Immediate successors of Justinian.

When the powerful figure of Justinian disappeared from the stage of history, his entire artificial system of government, which had temporarily kept the empire in proper balance, fell to ruin. “At his death,” said Bury, “the winds were loosed from prison; the disintegrating elements began to operate with full force; the artificial system collapsed; and the metamorphosis in the character of the empire, which had been surely progressing for a long time past, though one is apt to overlook it amid the striking events of Justinian’s busy reign, now began to work rapidly and perceptibly.”[113] The time between the years 565 and 610 belongs to one of the most cheerless periods in Byzantine history, when anarchy, poverty, and plagues raged throughout the Empire.

The confusion of this period caused John of Ephesus, the historian of the time of Justin II, to speak of the approaching end of the world.[114] “There is perhaps no period of history,” said Finlay, “in which society was so universally in a state of demoralization.”[115] The events of this period, however, show that this deplorable picture is somewhat exaggerated and therefore is to be rectified.

The successors of Justinian were: Justin II the Younger (565-78), Tiberius II (578-82), Maurice (582-602), and Phocas (602-10). The most outstanding of these four rulers was the energetic soldier and able leader, Maurice. Sophia, the strong-willed wife of Justin II who greatly resembled Theodora, exerted much influence on government affairs. The most significant events in the external affairs of the Empire during this period were the Persian War, the struggle with the Slavs and Avars in the Balkan peninsula, and the Lombard conquest of Italy. In the internal life of the Empire the firmly orthodox policy of the emperors and the formation of two exarchates were significant.

The Persian wars.

The fifty years’ truce with Persia established by Justinian in 562 was broken by Justin II, who refused to continue the payment of the set annual sum. A common hostility to Persia developed interesting relations between the Byzantine Empire and the Turks, who had appeared shortly before this period in Western Asia and along the shores of the Caspian Sea. They occupied the territory between China and Persia; the latter they viewed as their main enemy. Turkish ambassadors crossed the Caucasian Mountains, and after a long journey reached Constantinople, where they were accorded an amiable reception. Tentative plans began to develop for an offensive and defensive Turco-Byzantine alliance against Persia. The Turkish embassy made a very interesting proposal to the Byzantine government to mediate in the silk trade with China, avoiding Persian interference — the very thing Justinian had striven to attain, the only difference being that Justinian had hoped to arrange this by a southern sea route with the aid of the Abyssinians while the Turks were considering the northern land route.

Negotiations however did not culminate in the formation of a real alliance for combined action against Persia, because the Byzantine Empire at the end of the sixties was more concerned with western developments, particularly in Italy where the Lombards were attacking. Besides, Justin considered the Turkish military forces rather inadequate.

The result of the short-lived Roman-Turkish friendship was tension between Byzantium and Persia.[116] During the reigns of Justin, Tiberius, and Maurice an almost continuous war was conducted against the Persians. During the reign of Justin II this was very unsuccessful for Byzantium. The siege of Nisibis was abandoned, the Avars from beyond the Danube invaded the Byzantine provinces in the Balkans, and Daras, an important fortified border town, after a siege of six months passed into the hands of the Persians. This loss so deeply impressed the weak-minded Justin that he became insane, and it was the Empress Sophia who, by paying 45,000 pieces of gold, obtained the respite of a year’s truce (574).[117] A Syrian chronicle of the twelfth century, based of course on an earlier source, remarked: “On learning that Daras had been captured …

the emperor was in despair. He ordered shops to be closed and commerce to cease.”[118]

The Persian war under Tiberius and Maurice was more successful for the

Byzantine Empire because Maurice’s able leadership was aided by internal dispute in Persia for the throne.[119] Maurice’s peace treaty was of great importance; Persarmenia and eastern Mesopotamia, with the city of Daras, were ceded to Byzantium; the humiliating condition of annual tribute was canceled; and finally, the Empire, free of the Persian menace, was able to concentrate its attention on western affairs, especially on the unceasing attacks of the Avars and Slavs in the Balkan peninsula.[120] Another war with Persia began under the reign of Phocas, but the discussion of this war is deferred because, while it was of exceedingly great importance to the Byzantine Empire it was not concluded until the reign of Heraclius.

Slavs and Avars.

Very important events took place in the Balkan peninsula after the death of Justinian, although unfortunately present knowledge of them is limited by the fragmentary material that appears in the sources. During Justinian’s reign the Slavs frequently attacked the provinces of the Balkan peninsula, penetrating far into the south and threatening at times even the city of Thessalonica. These irruptions continued after Justinian’s death. There were then large numbers of Slavs remaining in the Byzantine provinces, and they gradually occupied the peninsula. They were aided in their aggression by the Avars, a people of Turkish origin living at that time in Pannonia. The Slavs and Avars menaced the capital and the shores of the Sea of Marmora and the Aegean, and penetrated into Greece as far as the Peloponnesus. The rumor of these invasions spread to Egypt, where John, bishop of Nikiu, wrote in the seventh century, during the reign of the Emperor Phocas: “It is recounted that the kings of this epoch had by means of the barbarians and the foreign nations and the Illyrians devastated Christian cities and carried off their inhabitants captive, and that no city escaped save Thessalonica only; for its walls were strong, and through the help of God the nations were unable to get possession of it.”[121] A German scholar of the early nineteenth century held the theory, discussed at length later, that at the end of the sixth century the Greeks were completely destroyed by the Slavs. Studies of the problem of Slavic settlement in the Balkan peninsula depend greatly upon the Acts of the martyr Demetrius, the protector of Thessalonica, one of the main Slavonic centers in the peninsula.[122]

At the end of the sixth and the beginning of the seventh century the persistent southward movement of the Slavs and Avars, which Byzantine troops were unable to stop, produced a profound ethnographic change in the peninsula, since it became occupied largely by Slavonic settlers. The writers of this period were, in general, poorly acquainted with the northern tribes and they confuse the Slavs and Avars because they attacked the Empire jointly.

After the death of Justinian, Italy was insufficiently protected against the attacks of enemies, which explains the ease and speed with which it was again conquered by a new German barbarian tribe, the Lombards, who appeared there only a few years after Justinian had destroyed the Ostrogothic kingdom. In the middle of the sixth century the Lombards, in alliance with the Avars, destroyed the kingdom of the barbarian tribe of the Gepids (Gepidae) on the Middle Danube. Later, perhaps in fear of their own allies, they advanced from Pannonia into Italy under the leadership of their king (konung), Alboin, moving with their wives and children. They included many different tribes, among whom the Saxons were particularly numerous. Popular tradition has accused Narses, a former general in Justinian’s army and the aged ruler of Italy, of having invited the Lombards into his country, but this accusation must be considered unfounded. After the accession of Justin II he retired because of old age and died shortly after in Rome, In the year 568 the Lombards entered northern Italy. A wild barbaric horde, Arian by faith, they laid waste all the localities through which they passed, They soon conquered northern Italy, which became known as Lombardy. The Byzantine ruler, lacking sufficient means for resisting them, remained within the walls of Ravenna, which the barbarians by-passed as they moved on to the south. Their large hordes dispersed over almost the entire peninsula, occupying the unprotected cities with great ease. They reached southern Italy and soon occupied Benevento (Beneventum). Though they did not capture Rome, they surrounded the Roman province on three sides: from the north. east, and south. They cut off all connections between Ravenna and Rome, so that Rome could hope for no help there and still less for help from the even more distant rulers of Constantinople, who were passing through one of the most difficult and troubled periods in the history of the East. The Lombards had soon founded in Italy a large Germanic kingdom. Tiberius, and even more earnestly Maurice, tried to establish an alliance with the Frankish king Childebert II (570-595) in the hope of inducing him to open hostilities against the Lombards in Italy, but the effort ended in failure. Several embassies were exchanged, and Childebert did several times send troops to Italy, but always with the aim of reconquering the ancient Frankish possessions for himself rather than with the intention of helping Maurice.

More than a century and a half was to elapse before the Frankish kings, summoned by the pope not the Emperor, were able to destroy the Lombard domination in Italy.[123]

Left to its own fate, Rome, which withstood more than one Lombard siege, found its protector in the person of the pope, who was forced not only to care for the spiritual life of his Roman flock but also to organize the defense of the city against the Lombards. It was at this time, at the end of the sixth century, that the Roman Church produced one of its most remarkable leaders, pope Gregory I, the Great. He had earlier been papal apocrisiarius or nuncio at Constantinople, where he resided some six years without succeeding in mastering even the rudiments of the Greek language.[124] But in spite of this linguistic deficiency he was very well acquainted with the life and policies of Constantinople.

The Lombard conquest of Italy demonstrated clearly the impotence of Justinian’s external policy in the West, where the Empire did not possess sufficient forces for maintaining the conquered Ostrogothic kingdom. It also laid the foundation for the gradual alienation of Italy from the Byzantine Empire and for the weakening of the imperial political authority in Italy.

Religious problems.

The successors of Justinian favored orthodoxy and the Monophysites were at times — as during the reign of Justin II — subjected to extremely severe persecution.

Relations between the Byzantine Empire and the Roman Church during the reign of Maurice and Phocas are interesting to consider. Gregory protested against the assumption by the Bishop of Constantinople of the title “ecumenical” and, in a letter to Maurice, Gregory accused the patriarch, John the Faster, of haughtiness: I am compelled to cry aloud and say O tempora! O mores! When all of Europe is given over to the power of barbarians, when cities are destroyed, camps overthrown, provinces depopulated, when the husbandman no longer tills the soil, when idol-worshippers are raging and contending for the slaughter of the faithful — and then priests, who ought to lie weeping on the ground and in ashes, seek for themselves names of vanity and glory in new and profane titles. Do I, in this matter, most pious Lord, defend my own cause? Do I resent my own special wrong? Nay, I defend the cause of Almighty God and the cause of the Universal Church. He is to be coerced, who does wrong to the Holy Universal Church, who swells in heart, who covets in a name of singularity, who also puts himself above the dignity of your Empire through a title peculiar to himself.[125]

The pope did not attain the desired concession, and for a time even ceased to send his representative to Constantinople. When in the year 602 a revolution broke out in the capital against Maurice, Pope Gregory addressed a letter to the new emperor, Phocas, in terms quite unbefitting this foolish tyrant on the Byzantine throne:

Glory be to God in the highest… Let the heaven rejoice, and let the earth be glad (Ps.

95:11). Let the whole people of the republic hitherto afflicted exceedingly, grow cheerful for your benignant deeds! … Let every single person’s liberty be now at length restored to him under the yoke of the pious empire. For there is this difference between the kings of other nations and the emperors: that the kings are lords of slaves, but the emperors of the Roman state are lords of freemen.[126]

Phocas was apparently pleased, for later he forbade the patriarch of Constantinople to bear the ecumenical title, declaring that “the apostolic throne of the blessed apostle Peter was the head of all churches.”[127]

Thus while Phocas suffered defeat in all his external and internal undertakings and inspired the deep wrath and irritation of his subjects, his relations with Rome, based on his concessions to the pope, were peaceful and friendly throughout his reign.

In memory of these friendly relations the exarch of Ravenna erected in the Roman Forum a column with laudatory inscriptions to Phocas. This monument is still in existence.

Formation of the exarchates and the revolution of 610.

In connection with the Lombard conquest an important change took place in the government of Italy, which, together with a similar contemporary innovation in the administration of North Africa, laid the foundation for the new provincial administration of the Empire: the so-called system of themes. The Byzantine authorities in Italy had not been able to offer the proper resistance to the Lombards, who conquered two-thirds of the peninsula with great ease. Therefore in the face of great danger, the Byzantine government determined to strengthen its power in Italy by placing the civil administrative functions in the hands of the military rulers. Byzantine administration in Italy was to be headed by a military governor-general, the exarch, who was to direct the activities of all civil officials from his residence at Ravenna, The formation of the Ravenna exarchate dates back to the end of the sixth century, to the period of Emperor Maurice. This combination of administrative and judicial functions with military authority did not involve the immediate abolition of civil officials. They continued to exist along with the military rulers, but acted under the guidance of the military exarch. Only later the civil officials seem to have been completely replaced by military authorities. The exarch, as a representative of imperial power, followed in his administration certain principles of Caesaropapism, so much favored by the emperors.

This policy was expressed in such acts, for example, as the interference as a final authority in the religious affairs of the exarchate. Unlimited in his power, the exarch was given imperial honors. His palace at Ravenna was considered sacred and called Sacrum palatium, a name usually applied only to an imperial residence. Whenever he arrived at Rome, he was accorded an imperial reception: the senate, the clergy, and the populace met him outside the city walls in triumphant procession. All military affairs, the entire administration, judicial and financial matters — all were at the full disposal of the exarch.[128]

Just as the Ravennese exarchate arose because of the attacks of the Lombards in Italy, so the formation of the African exarchate in the place of the former Vandal kingdom was called forth by a similar menace on the part of the native African Moors, or, as they are sometimes called in sources, the Maurusii (Berbers), who frequently engaged in serious uprisings against the Byzantine troops who occupied that country.

The beginning of the African, or Carthaginian, exarchate (often called so because the residence of the exarch was at Carthage) dates also from the end of the sixth century, the time of Emperor Maurice. The African exarchate was founded on the same principles as its predecessor at Ravenna, and was endowed with similar unlimited power.[129]

Naturally, it was only extreme necessity that could force the Emperor to create such an unlimited office as that of the exarch, who, granting the desire and the presence of certain conditions, could become a very dangerous rival of the Emperor himself. And in reality the African exarch was to raise the banner of sedition against Phocas, and the son of the exarch was to become emperor in the year 610. In Africa the exarchs were chosen very wisely by Maurice and demonstrated much skill and energy in governing the land, defending it successfully against the attacks of the natives. On the other hand, the exarchs of Ravenna were unable to overcome the Lombard menace.

According to the French scholar, Diehl,[130] the two exarchates must be viewed as the beginning of the theme (province or district) organization, that provincial reform in the Byzantine Empire which started in the seventh century and spread gradually through the entire territory of the Empire. Its distinguishing feature was the gradual dominance of the military authority over the civil. While the attacks of the Lombards and Moors produced significant changes in the West and the South at the end of the sixth century, the attacks of the Persians and Arabs caused later the introduction of similar measures in the East, and the onslaught of the Slavs and Bulgars resulted in the same reforms in the Balkan peninsula.

The unsuccessful external policy of Phocas in regard to the Avars and the Persians, as well as the bloody terror which was his only means of maintaining his position, finally resulted in the revolt of the African exarch, Heraclius. Egypt soon joined in this revolt, and the African fleet under the direction of the exarch’s son, also named Heraclius, sailed forth to the capital, which deserted Phocas and came over to the side of Heraclius. Phocas was captured and executed. Heraclius, the son, ascended the Byzantine throne and thus started a new dynasty.

The problem of the Slavs in Greece.

As a result of the investigation of sources on the Slavonic invasions into the Balkan peninsula in the second half of the sixth century, a theory of the complete Slavonization of Greece arose in the early part of the nineteenth century and aroused heated disputes among scholars.

In the twenties of the last century, when all of Europe was seized with deep sympathy for the Greeks who had raised the banner of revolt against the Turkish yoke, when these champions of freedom, through their heroic resistance, succeeded in maintaining their independence and created, with the help of European powers, an independent Greek kingdom, when enthusiastic European society viewed these heroes as sons of ancient Hellas and recognized in them the traits of Leonidas, Epaminondas, and Philopoemen — then it was that from a small German town came a voice which astonished Europe by declaring that not one drop of real Hellenic blood runs through the veins of the inhabitants of the new Greek kingdom; that all the magnanimous impulse of Europe to aid the cause of the children of sacred Hellas was founded on a misunderstanding; and that the ancient Greek element had long ago disappeared and been replaced by new, entirely alien ethnographical elements, chiefly of Slavonic and Albanian origin. The man who ventured to advance openly and boldly this new theory, which shocked to the utmost the beliefs of contemporary Europe, was Fallmerayer, at that time professor of general history in one of the German lyceums.

In the first volume of his History of the Peninsula of Morea in the Middle Ages, which appeared in 1830, Fallmerayer wrote:

The Hellenic race in Europe is completely exterminated. The physical beauty, the sublimity of spirit, the simplicity of customs, the artistic creativeness, the races, cities, and villages, the splendor of columns and temples, even the name of the people itself, have disappeared from the Greek continent. A double layer of ruins and the mire of two new and different races cover the graves of the ancient Greeks. The immortal works of the spirit of Hellas and some ancient ruins on native Greek soil are now the only evidence of the fact that long ago there was such a people as the Hellenes. And were it not for these ruins, grave-hills and mausoleums, were it not for the site and the wretched fate of its inhabitants, upon whom the Europeans of our day in an outburst of human emotions have poured all their tenderness, their admiration, their tears, and their eloquence, we would have to say that it was only an empty vision, a lifeless image, a being outside the nature of things that has aroused the innermost depths of their souls. For not a single drop of real pure Hellenic blood flows in the veins of the Christian population of modern Greece, A terrific hurricane has dispersed throughout the space between the Ister and most distant corner of the Peloponnesus a new tribe akin to the great Slavonic race. The Scythian Slavs, the Illyrian Arnauts, children of Northern lands, the blood relations of the Serbs and Bulgars, the Dalmatians and Moscovites — those are the people whom we call Greeks at present and whose genealogy, to their own surprise, we have traced back to Pericles and Philopoemen … A population with Slavonic facial features and with bow-shaped eyelashes and sharp features of Albanian mountain shepherds, of course, did not come from the blood of Narcissus, Alcibiades, and Antmous; and only a romantic eager imagination can still dream of a revival in our days of the ancient Hellenes with their Sophocleses and Platos.[131]

It was Fallmerayer’s opinion that the Slavonic invasions of the sixth century created a situation in which the Byzantine Empire, without actually having lost a single province, could consider as its subjects only the population of the seacoast provinces and fortified cities. The appearance of the Avars in Europe was an epoch-making event in the history of Greece because they brought with them the Slavs and spurred them on to conquer the sacred soil of Hellas and the Peloponnesus.

Fallmerayer based his theory primarily on the data found in the writings of the church historian of the late sixth century, Evagrius, who wrote: “The Avars twice made an inroad as far as the Long Wall and captured Singidunum [Belgrade], Anchialus, and all of Greece, with other towns and fortresses, laying everything waste with fire and sword, while the greater part of the forces were engaged in the East.”[132] It was this mention of all of Greece in Evagrius that gave Fallmerayer a basis for speaking of the extermination of the Greek nation in the Peloponnesus. The “Avars” of Evagrius did not confuse this German scholar, for at that period the Avars attacked the Byzantine Empire conjointly with the Slavs. This particular invasion which Fallmerayer referred to the year 589, did not exterminate the Greeks completely. The final blow to the Greek population came, as Fallmerayer believed, with the importation of the plague from Italy in the year 746. Reference to this is found in the famous quotation from the imperial writer of the tenth century, Constantine Porphyrogenitus, who remarked that after this terrible plague “the entire land was slavonized and became barbarian.”[133] The year when Emperor Constantine Copronymus died (775) Fallmerayer estimated, may be considered the final date when the desolate land became once more, and at this time completely, filled with Slavs, who gradually covered Greece with their new cities, towns, and villages.[134]

In a later work Fallmerayer applied his conclusions to Attica without any real basis. In the second volume of his History of the Peninsula of Morea he advanced a new Albanian theory, according to which the Greek-Slavs who inhabited Greece were displaced and crushed by Albanian settlers during the second quarter of the fourteenth century, so that the Greek revolution of the nineteenth century was in reality the work of Albanian hands.

The first serious opponent of Fallmerayer was the German historian, Carl Hopf, who had studied thoroughly the problem of the Slavs in Greece and published a History of Greece from the Beginning of the Middle Ages to Our Own Times, in 1867. But Hopf fell into the other extreme because of his desire to reduce the significance of the Slavonic element in Greece at all costs. In his judgment, Slavonic settlements in Greece proper existed only from the year 750 until 807; previous to 750 there were none. Hopf showed that Fallmerayer’s opinions on the Slavonization of Attica were based on a false document.[135]

The abundant literature on this subject, often contradictory and inconsistent in its nature, gives enough basis, however, for concluding that Slavonic settlements of very considerable size existed in Greece from the end of the sixth century, though they resulted neither in pan-Slavonization nor in the complete extermination of the Greeks.

Moreover, various sources mention the presence of Slavs in Greece, primarily in the Peloponnesus, during all of the Middle Ages up to the fifteenth century.[136] The most important source on the Slavonic penetration of the Balkan Peninsula is the Acta of St.

Demetrius, mentioned above. This was properly used neither by Fallmerayer nor by Hopf; in fact, it has not been adequately investigated up to the present day.[137]

Scholars have frequently disputed the originality of Fallmerayer’s theory. His opinion was nothing new. Slavonic influence in Greece had been spoken of before his time, though he was the first to express his judgments decisively and openly. In 1913 a Russian scholar stated on good grounds that the real originator of Fallmerayer’s theory was Kopitar, a scholar of Slavonic studies in Vienna in the nineteenth century, who developed in his writings the idea of the significant part played by the Slavic element in the formation of the new Greek nation. He did not, it is true, develop this theory in detail; but neither did he create a sensation by an unscholarly paradox.[138] “The extremes of Fallmerayer’s theory,” Petrovsky said, “cannot at present be defended after a thorough study of the problems pertaining to it; but the theory itself, harmoniously and vividly expounded by the author, has a right to claim the attention even of those historians who disagree with it either entirely or partially.”[139] Without question, this theory, in spite of some very obvious exaggerations, has played a very important part in the science of history by directing scholarly attention to a most interesting and at the same time most obscure question, the problem of the Slavs in Greece during the Middle Ages. The writings of Fallmerayer assume still wider general historical significance when viewed as the work of the first scholar who devoted his attention to the ethnographical transformations during the Middle Ages, not only in Greece, but in the Balkan Peninsula in general. At present in Soviet Russia the thesis of early penetration and settlement of the Slavs in the Balkan Peninsula is strongly supported.

In contemporary Russian magazines, such as the Historical Journal and the Messenger of Ancient History, several articles on this subject have appeared. Fallmerayer is very popular with Russian historians, who proclaim that his work has not been adequately appreciated. The modern Slavophile movement in Soviet Russia seems even stronger than the similar movement of some hundred years ago, mentioned in the first chapter of this book.

Literature, learning, and art.

Reflecting Justinian’s multifarious activities, which amazed even his contemporaries, the epoch between 518 and 610 resulted in an abundant heritage in various branches of learning and literature. The Emperor himself attempted literary creation in the fields of dogmatics and hymnology. Maurice also displayed a taste for letters; he not only patronized but also stimulated literature, and often spent a great part of the night discussing or meditating on questions of poetry or history.[140] This period produced several historians, whom Justinian’s enterprises provided with a wealth of material.

The special historian of Justinian’s period was Procopius of Caesarea, who has given a complete and well-rounded picture of the reign. Educated for the law, Procopius was appointed adviser and secretary to the famous general Belisarius, with whom he shared the campaigns against the Vandals, the Goths, and the Persians. He stands out both as historian and as writer. As a historian he was in a most advantageous position with regard to sources and firsthand information. His closeness to Belisarius gave him access to all official documents kept in the offices and archives, while his active participation in the campaigns and his excellent knowledge of the country gave him highly valuable living material based on personal observation and on information obtained from contemporaries.

In style and presentation Procopius frequently followed the classical historians, especially Herodotus and Thucydides. In spite of his dependence upon the Old Greek language of the ancient historians, and in spite of some artificiality of exposition, Procopius had a figurative, lucid, and vigorous style. He wrote three main works. The largest of these is The History in Eight Books, containing accounts of Justinian’s wars with the Persians, Vandals, and Goths as well as accounts of many other sides of government life. The author spoke of the Emperor in a slightly laudatory tone, but in numerous instances he expresses the bitter truth. This work may be called a general history of Justinian’s time. The second work of Procopius, On Buildings, is an unmitigated panegyric of the Emperor, probably written at his command, the main object of which is to give an account and description of the multitude of edifices erected by Justinian in all parts of his vast empire. In spite of rhetorical exaggerations and excessive praise, this work contains an abundance of geographical, topographical, and financial material, and serves therefore as a valuable source in the study of the social and economic history of the Empire. The third work of Procopius, Anecdota, or The Secret History (Historia Arcana), is distinctly different from the other two. It is a vicious libel upon the despotic rule of Justinian and his wife Theodora in which the author flings mud not only at the imperial couple but also at Belisarius and his wife, and in which Justinian is represented as the author of all the misfortunes which occurred in the Empire during this period. The contrast between this work and the other two is so striking that some scholars began to question the authenticity of The Secret History, for it seemed impossible that all three works had been composed by one and the same man. Only after a careful comparative study of The Secret History with all other sources pertaining to Justinian’s epoch was it definitely decided that the work was really an authentic work of Procopius. When properly used, this work serves as an extremely valuable source on the internal history of the Byzantine Empire in the sixth century. Thus, all the works of Procopius, in spite of their exaggerations of the virtue or vice of Justinian’s deeds, constitute a highly significant contemporary source for a closer acquaintance with the life of the period. But this is not all. Slavonic history and Slavonic antiquity find in Procopius invaluable information about the life and beliefs of the Slavs, while the Germanic peoples gather from him many facts about their early history.

A contemporary of Justinian and Procopius, the historian Peter the Patrician, a brilliant lawyer and diplomat, was repeatedly sent as ambassador to the Persian Empire and to the Ostrogothic court, where he was kept as prisoner for three years. His writings consisted of Histories, or A History of the Roman Empire, narrating, if one may judge by the extensive fragments in which alone it has survived, events from the second Triumvirate (from Augustus) to the time of Julian the Apostate, and a treatise On the State Constitution (Katastasis or Book of Ceremonies), part of which was included in the famous work of the time of Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the tenth century, The Book of Court Ceremonies.

From Procopius until the early part of the seventh century there was a

continuous line of historical writings, and each historian carried on the work of those who preceded him.

Procopius was followed directly by the well-educated lawyer, Agathias, of Asia Minor, who left, in addition to some short poems and epigrams, the somewhat artificially written work, On the Reign of Justinian, which embraces the period from 552

to 558. Following Agathias, Menander the Protector wrote in the time of Maurice, his History which was a continuation of Agathias’ work, and related events from the year 558 until 582, i.e., up to the year of the accession of Maurice. Only fragments of this work are in existence today, but they give a sufficient basis for judging the importance of this source, particularly from the geographic and ethnographic point of view; they offer sufficient indication that he was a better historian than Agathias. The work of Menander was continued by Theophylact Simocatta, an Egyptian, who lived during the period of Heraclius and occupied the position of imperial secretary. Besides a small work on natural science and a collection of letters, he also wrote a history of the period of Maurice (582-602). The style of Theophylact is overcharged with allegories and artificial expressions to a much greater extent than that of his immediate predecessors.

“In comparison with Procopius and Agathias,” says Krumbacher, “he is the peak of a rapidly rising curve. The historian of Belisarius, in spite of bombast, is still simple and natural; more abounding in poetical flowery expressions is the poet Agathias; but both these writers seem quite unaffected in comparison with Theophylact, who surprises the reader at every turn with new, unexpected flashes of far-fetched images, allegories, aphorisms, and mythological and other subtleties.”[141] But in spite of all this Theophylact is an excellent major source on the time of Maurice, and he also gives extremely valuable information about Persia and the Slavs in the Balkan peninsula at the end of the sixth century.

Justinian’s ambassador to the Saracens and Abyssinians, Nonnosus, wrote a description of his distant journey. Time has preserved only one fragment, which is found in the works of the Patriarch Photius; but even this fragment gives excellent data on the nature and ethnography of the countries he visited. Photius also preserved a fragment of the history of Theophanes of Byzantium, who wrote at the end of the sixth century and probably covered in his work the period from the time of Justinian to the first years of the reign of Maurice. This fragment is important because it contains evidence bearing on the introduction of sericulture in the Byzantine Empire and includes also one of the earliest references to the Turks. Another source particularly valuable for church history of the fifth and sixth centuries is the work of Evagrius of Syria, who died at the end of the sixth century. His Ecclesiastical History in six books is a continuation of histories written by Socrates, Sozomen, and Theodoret. It contains an account of events from the Council of Ephesus, in the year 431, to the year 593. In addition to information on ecclesiastical events, it contains also interesting data on the general history of the period.

John the Lydian was distinguished for his excellent education, and Justinian thought so highly of him that he commissioned him to write an imperial panegyric.

Besides other works, John left a treatise On the Administration (magistrates) of the Roman State, which has not yet been sufficiently studied and evaluated. It contains numerous interesting facts about the internal organization of the Empire and may serve as a valuable supplement to The Secret History of Procopius.[142]

The manifold significance of The Christian Topography of Cosmas Indicopleustes, the broad geographical scale of which so closely corresponded to Justinian’s sweeping projects, has been discussed. To the field of geography also belongs the statistical survey of the Eastern Roman Empire of Justinian’s period, which came from the pen of the grammarian Hierocles, and bears the title of A Fellow-Traveler of Hierocles (Συνεκδημος; Synecdemus; Vademecum). The author does not center his survey about the ecclesiastical, but. rather about the political, geography of the Empire, with its sixty-four provinces and 912 cities. It is impossible to determine whether this survey was a product of Hierocles’ own initiative or a result of a commission received from some high authority. In any event, in the dry survey of Hierocles exists an excellent source for determining the political position of the Empire at the beginning of Justinian’s reign.[143] Hierocles was the principal source for geographical matters for Constantine Porphyrogenitus.

In addition to these historians and geographers, the sixth century also had its chroniclers. Justinian’s epoch was still closely connected with classical literature, and the dry universal chronicles, which developed greatly in the later Byzantine period, appeared only as rare exceptions in this period.

A middle position between the historians and chroniclers was occupied by Hesychius of Miletus, who lived, in all likelihood, in the time of Justinian. His works survive only in fragments preserved in the writings of Photius and the lexicographer of the tenth century, Suidas. On the basis of these fragments it appears that Hesychius wrote a universal history in the form of a chronicle embracing the period from the time of ancient Assyria to the death of Anastasius (518). A large fragment of this work has survived, which is concerned with the early history of Byzantium even before the time of Constantine the Great. Hesychius was also the author of a history of the time of Justin I and the early reign of Justinian which differed greatly in style and conception from the first work, and contained a detailed narrative of events contemporary with the author. The third work of Hesychius was a dictionary of famous Greek writers in different branches of knowledge. Since he did not include the Christian writers, some scholars affirm that Hesychius was probably a pagan; this opinion, however, is not generally accepted.[144]

The true chronicler of the sixth century was the uneducated Syrian of Antioch, John Malalas, the author of a Greek chronicle of the history of the world, which, judging by the only surviving manuscript, relates events from the fabulous times of Egyptian history to the end of Justinian’s reign. But it probably contained also accounts of a later period.[145] The chronicle is Christian and apologetic in its aims, exposing very clearly the monarchistic tendencies of the author. Confused in content, mixing fables and facts, important events and minor incidents, it is clearly intended not for educated readers but for the masses, ecclesiastical and secular, for whom the author put down many varied and amusing facts. “This work represents a historical booklet for the people in the fullest: sense of the term.”[146] The style is particularly worthy of attention, for this work is the first considerable one written in the spoken Greek language, that vulgate Greek dialect, popular in the East, which mixed Greek elements with Latin and eastern expressions. Since it suited the taste and mentality of the masses, this chronicle exerted an enormous influence upon Byzantine, eastern, and Slavonic chronography. The large number of Slavonic selections and translations of the writings of Malalas are of great value in restoring the original Greek text of his chronicle.[147]

In addition to the large number of works written in Greek, to this epoch (518-610) belong also the Syrian writings of John of Ephesus, who died in the latter part of the sixth century (probably in the year 586).[148] Born in Upper Mesopotamia and a convinced Monophysite by faith, John spent many years of his life in Constantinople and in Asia Minor, where he occupied the see of Ephesus and made the personal acquaintance of Justinian and Theodora. He was the author of the Lives of the Eastern Saints or Histories Concerning the Ways of Life of the Blessed Easterns (Commentarii de Beatis Onentalibus), and the Ecclesiastical History (in Syriac), which embraced originally the period from Julius Caesar to the year 585. Of the latter only the most important and original part has survived, which deals with events from 521 to 585. It is an invaluable source for the period. Written from a Monophysitic point of view, this history of John of Ephesus reveals, not so much the dogmatic foundations of the Monophysitic disputes, as their national and cultural background. According to a scholar who has devoted himself to the special study of John’s work, the Ecclesiastical History “throws much light upon the last phases of the struggle between Christianity and paganism by revealing also the cultural foundations of this struggle.” It is also “of great value to the political and cultural history of the Byzantine Empire in the sixth century, especially with regard to determining the extent of eastern influences. In his narrative the author enters into all the details and minutiae of life, thus giving abundant material for a close acquaintance with the manners and customs and the archeology of the period.”[149]

The Monophysitic disputes, which continued throughout the sixth century, aroused much literary activity in the realm of dogmatics and polemics. Even Justinian did not abstain from participating in these literary disputes. The writings of the Monophysitic side in the Greek original have not been preserved. They can be judged either by citations found in the writers of the opposing camp or by the translations preserved in Syriac and Arabic literature. Among the writers of the orthodox side was a contemporary of Justin and Justinian, Leontius of Byzantium, who left several works against the Nestorians, Monophysites, and others. On the life of this dogmatist and polemic there is very scanty information.[150] He stands out as an example of an interesting phenomenon in the time of Justinian, namely, the fact that Plato’s influence upon the church fathers was already beginning to give way to that of Aristotle.[151]

The development of monastic and eremitical life in the East during the sixth century left its traces in the works of ascetic, mystical, and hagiographic literature.

John Climacus (ο της κλιμακος) lived in solitude on Mount Sinai for a long period of years and wrote what is known as the Climax — “Spiritual ladder” (Scala Parodisi),[152]

consisting of thirty chapters, or “rungs,” in which he described the degrees of spiritual ascension to moral perfection. This work became favorite reading among the Byzantine monks, serving as a guide to the attainment of ascetic and spiritual perfection. But the remarkable popularity of the Climax was by no means confined to the East; there are many translations into Syriac, Modern Greek, Latin, Italian, Spanish, French, and Slavonic. Some of the manuscripts of the Climax contain many interesting illustrations (miniatures) of religious and monastic life.[153]

At the head of the hagiographic writers of the sixth century one must place Cyril of Scythopolis, a Palestinian, who spent the last years of his life in the famous Palestinian Laura of St. Sabas. Cyril wanted to compile a large collection of monastic

“Lives,” but did not succeed in completing this project, probably because of his premature death. Several of his works have survived. Among these are the lives of Euthymius and St. Sabas, and also several minor lives of saints. Because of the accuracy of narrative and the author’s precise understanding of ascetic life, as well as the simplicity of his style, all the surviving works of Cyril serve as very valuable sources for the cultural history of the early Byzantine period.[154] John Moschus, also a Palestinian, who lived at the end of the sixth and early part of the seventh centuries, produced his famous work in Greek, Pratum Spirituale (Λειμων), “The spiritual meadow,” on the basis of the experience gained during numerous journeys to the monasteries of Palestine, Egypt, Mount Sinai, Syria, Asia Minor, and the islands of the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas. The work contains the author’s impressions of his journeys and much varied information about monasteries and monks. In some respects the contents of the Pratum Spirituale are of great interest for the history of civilization.

It later became a favorite book, not only in the Byzantine Empire, but also in other lands, especially in Old Russia.

The poetical literature of this time also had several representatives during this period. It is quite certain that Romanus the Melode (“hymn-writer”), famous for his church songs, was at the height of his creative career in the time of Justinian. In the same period Paul the Silentiary composed his two poetical descriptions (in Greek verse) of St. Sophia and its beautiful pulpit (ambo). These works are of great interest in the history of art,[155] and were praised by his contemporary, the historian Agathias,[156]

mentioned earlier. Finally, Corippus of North Africa, who later settled in Constantinople, a man of limited poetical ability, wrote two works in Latin verse. The first of these, Johannis, written in honor and praise of the Byzantine general, John (Johannes) Troglita, who quelled the revolt of the north African natives against the Empire, contains invaluable data about the geography and ethnography of North Africa as well as about the African War. The facts related by Corippus are at times more dependable than those given by Procopius. The second work of Corippus, the Panegyric or Eulogy of Justin (in laudem Justini), describing in bombastic style the accession of Justin II the Younger and the first events of his reign, is inferior to the first poem, yet it contains many interesting facts about the ceremonial of the Byzantine court in the sixth century.

Papyri have revealed a certain Dioscorus, who lived in the sixth century in a small village of upper Egypt, the Aphrodito. A Copt by birth, he seems to have received a good general education with a thorough training in law; he also entertained literary ambitions. Though his large collection of deeds and other papyri furnish much precious information concerning the social and administrative history of the period, his poems contribute nothing to the glory of Hellenistic poetry; they represent the work of an amateur which is “full of the most glaring blunders, alike in grammar and prosody.”

According to H. Bell, he read at least a fair amount of Greek literature but wrote execrable verses.[157] J. Maspero calls Dioscorus the last Greek poet of Egypt, as well as one of the last representatives of Hellenism in the valley of the Nile.[158]

The closing of the Athenian pagan academy during Justinian’s reign could result in no very serious harm to the literature and education of this period because the academy had already outlived its purpose. It was no longer of great import in a Christian empire. The treasures of classical literature penetrated gradually, often externally only, into the products of Christian literature. The university of Constantinople organized by Theodosius II continued to be active in Justinian’s epoch.

New works on jurisprudence show the importance of the study of law during this period. It was confined, however, to the formal mastery of literal translations of juridical texts and the writing of brief paraphrases and excerpts. We have no exact information as to how juridical instruction developed after the death of Justinian.

While Emperor Maurice showed much interest in learning, his successor, Phocas, apparently halted the activities of the university.[159]

In the realm of art the epoch of Justinian bears the name of the First Golden Age.

The architecture of his time created a monument unique in its kind — the Church of St.

Sophia.[160]

St. Sophia or the Great Church, as it was called throughout the East, was constructed by the orders of Justinian on the site of the small basilica of St. Sophia (“divine wisdom”) which was set on fire during the Nika revolt (532). In order to make this temple a building of unusual splendor, Justinian, according to late tradition, ordered the governors of the provinces to furnish the capital with the best pieces of ancient monuments. Enormous quantities of marble of various colors and shades were also transported to the capital from the richest mines. Silver, gold, ivory, and precious stones were brought in to add further magnificence to the new temple.

The Emperor chose for the execution of this grandiose project two gifted architects, Anthemius and Isidore. Both were natives of Asia Minor, Anthemius from the city of Tralles, and Isidore from Miletus. They attacked their great task with enthusiasm and skillfully guided the work of ten thousand laborers. The Emperor visited the construction personally, watching its progress with keen interest, offering advice, and arousing the zeal of the workers. In five years the construction was completed. On Christmas Day of the year 537 the triumphant dedication of St. Sophia took place in the presence of the Emperor. Later sources related that the Emperor, overwhelmed by his attainment, said upon entering the temple: “Glory be to God who deemed me worthy of this deed! I have conquered thee, Solomon!”[161] On this triumphant occasion the population was granted many favors and great celebrations were arranged in the capital.

Externally St. Sophia is very simple because its bare brick walls are void of any ornamentation. Even the famous dome seems somewhat heavy from the outside. At present St. Sophia is lost among the Turkish houses which surround it. In order to appreciate fully all the grandeur and splendor of the temple one must see it from the inside.

In former days the temple had a spacious court, the atrium, surrounded by porticoes in the center of which stood a beautiful marble fountain. The fourth side of the atrium adjoining the temple was a sort of outer porch or closed gallery (narthex) connected by five doors with the second inner porch. Nine bronze doors led from this porch into the temple; the central widest and highest royal door was intended for the emperor. The temple itself, approaching in its architecture the type of “domed basilicas,” forms a very large rectangle with a magnificent central nave over which rises an enormous dome 31 meters in circumference, constructed with unusual difficulty at the height of 50 meters above the earth’s surface. Forty large windows at the base of the dome let abundant light spread through the entire cathedral. Along both sides of the central nave were constructed two-storied arches richly decorated with columns. The floor and the columns are of many-colored marble, which was used also for parts of the walls. Marvelous mosaics, painted over in the Turkish period, formerly enchanted the eyes of the visitors. Particularly deep was the impression made upon pilgrims by the enormous cross at the top of the dome shining upon a mosaic-starred sky. And even today one can distinguish, under the Turkish painting in the lower part of the dome, the large figures of winged angels.

The most difficult task of the builders of St. Sophia, a feat yet unsurpassed even in modern architecture, was the erection of an enormous, and at the same time very light, dome. The task was accomplished, but the remarkable dome did not last very long; it caved in even during Justinian’s period and had to be rebuilt on less daring lines at the end of his reign. Justinian’s contemporaries spoke of St. Sophia with as much transport as did later generations, including the present. The Russian pilgrim of the fourteenth century, Stephen of Novgorod, wrote in his Travels to Tsargrad (Constantinople), “As for St. Sophia, Divine Wisdom, the human mind can neither tell it nor make description of it.”[162] In spite of frequent and violent earthquakes, St.

Sophia stands firm even today. It was transformed into a mosque in 1453. Strzygowski said: “In conception the church [St. Sophia] is purely Armenian.”[163]

As time went on the true story of the erection of St. Sophia was transformed in literature into a sort of legend with a large number of miraculous details. From the Byzantine Empire these legends found their way into south-Slavic and Russian as well as into Muhammedan, Arabic, and Turkish literature. The Slavonic and Muhammedan versions present very interesting material for the history of international literary influences.[164]

The second famous church of the capital erected by Justinian was the Church of the Holy Apostles. This church had been built by Constantine the Great or by Constantius, but toward the sixth century it was in a state of complete dilapidation.

Justinian pulled it down and rebuilt it on a larger and more magnificent scale. It was a cruciform church with four equal arms and a central dome between four other domes.

Again the architects of the Church were Anthemius of Tralles and Isidore The Younger.

When Constantinople was taken by the Turks in 1453 the church was destroyed to make room for the mosque of Muhammed II the Conqueror. A clearer conception of what the Church of the Holy Apostles was like can be obtained from St. Mark’s at Venice, which was built on its model. It was copied also in St. John at Ephesus, and on French soil in St. Front at Perigueux. The beautiful lost mosaics of the Church of the Apostles have been described by Nicholas Mesarites, a bishop of Ephesus, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, and were thoroughly discussed by A.

Heisenberg.[165] The Church of the Apostles is known to have been the burial place of the Byzantine emperors from Constantine the Great to the eleventh century.

The influence of Constantinopolitan construction was felt in the East, for instance, in Syria, and in the West in Parenzo, in Istria, and especially at Ravenna.

St. Sophia may impress and charm now by its dome, by the sculptural ornaments of its columns, by the many-colored marble facing of its walls and floor, and still more by the ingenuity of its architectural execution; but the marvelous mosaics of this remarkable temple have heretofore been inaccessible, because they were painted over during the Turkish period. A new era in the history of St. Sophia, however, started recently through the enlightened policy of the modern Turkish republic under the leadership of Mustapha Kemal Ataturk. The building was first of all thrown open to foreign archeologists and scholars. In 1931 an order of the Turkish government was issued enabling the Byzantine Institute of America to lay bare and conserve the mosaics of St. Sophia. Professor Thomas Whittemore, director of the Institute, secured permission to uncover and restore mosaics, and in 1933 work began in the narthex. In December 1934, Mustapha Kemal announced that the building had been closed as a mosque and would henceforth be preserved as a museum and monument of Byzantine art. Owing to Whittemore’s untiring and systematic work the marvelous mosaics of St.

Sophia are gradually reappearing in all their brilliance and beauty. Since Whittemore’s death in 1950, his work has been continued by Professor Paul A. Underwood.

An excellent conception of Byzantine mosaics exists in the West in the northern Italian city of Ravenna. Fifteen hundred years ago Ravenna was a prosperous city on the Adriatic coast. During the fifth century it served as a refuge of the last Western Roman emperors; in the sixth century it became the capital of the Ostrogothic kingdom, and finally, from the middle of the sixth century to the middle of the eighth century, it was the administrative center of Byzantine Italy reconquered from the Ostrogoths by Justinian. It was the home of the Byzantine viceroy or exarch. This last period was the brilliant period of Ravenna, when political, economic, intellectual, and artistic activity poured forth in an abundant stream.

The artistic monuments of Ravenna are bound up with the memory of three

persons: first, Galla Placidia, the daughter of Theodosius the Great and the mother of the western emperor, Valentinian III, second, Theodoric the Great, and third, Justinian.

Putting aside the earlier monuments of the time of Galla Placidia and Theodoric, we shall speak briefly only about the Ravenna monuments of Justinian’s time.

Throughout his long reign Justinian was greatly interested in promoting the construction of monuments of civil and religious architecture in various places of his enormous empire. Upon conquering Ravenna he finished the construction of those churches which had been begun under the Ostrogothic sway. Among these churches two are of particularly great importance from an artistic point of view. They are the Church of St. Vitale and the Church of St. Apollinare in Classe (the Ravennan port, Classis). The main artistic value of these churches lies in their mosaics.

About three miles from the city of Ravenna, in the deserted marshy locality occupied in the Middle Ages by the prosperous trading port of the city, rises the simple outline of the Church of St. Apollinare in Classe, representing in shape a genuine ancient Christian basilica. On one side of this church stands the round campanile constructed later. The interior has three naves. The ancient sarcophagi, decorated by sculptural images and situated along the church walls, contain the remains of the most famous archbishops of Ravenna. The mosaic of the sixth century can be seen in the lower part of the apse. It represents St. Apollinare, the protector of Ravenna, standing with raised arms, surrounded by lambs, in the midst of a peaceful landscape; above him, on the blue starred sky of the large medallion, beams a jeweled cross. The other mosaics of this church date from a later period.[166]

For the study of the artistic achievements of Justinian’s period the church of St.

Vitale in Ravenna contains the most valuable material. Here the mosaics of the sixth century have been preserved almost intact. The domed church of St. Vitale is covered on the inside from top to bottom with marvelous sculptural and mosaic decorations.

The apse of this church is particularly well known because the two most famous mosaics are found on its two side walls. One of them represents Justinian surrounded by the bishop, the priests, and his court; the other is a picture of his wife, Theodora, with her ladies. The garb of the figures in these pictures is very striking in its splendor and magnificence. Ravenna, sometimes referred to as an “Italian-Byzantine Pompeii,”

or “la Byzance occidentale,”[167] offers the most valuable material for the evaluation of early Byzantine art of the fifth and sixth centuries.

The building activities of Justinian were not limited to the erection of fortifications and churches. He constructed also many monasteries, palaces, bridges, cisterns, aqueducts, baths, and hospitals. In the distant provinces of the Empire the name of Justinian is connected with the construction of the monastery of St. Catherine on Mount Sinai. In the apse of its church is a famous mosaic of a transfiguration ascribed to the sixth century.[168]

Several very interesting miniatures and textiles of that epoch have

survived.[169] And although under the influence of the church, sculpture in general was in a state of decline, there were a large number of exceedingly graceful and beautiful ivory carvings, particularly among the diptych-leaves and the special group of consular diptychs, the series beginning in the fifth century and ending with the abolition of the consulate in 541.

Almost all the writers of this period and the builders of St. Sophia and of the Apostles were natives of Asia or northern Africa. The Hellenistic civilized East still continued to fertilize the intellectual and artistic life of the Byzantine Empire.

A survey of the long, various, and complicated reign of Justinian shows that in the majority of his projects he did not attain the desired results. It is quite evident that the brilliant military undertakings in the West, a direct outcome of his ideology of a Roman Caesar obliged to reconquer the lost territories of the Empire, were not successful in the end. They were decidedly out of harmony with the true interests of the Empire, centering primarily in the East; hence they contributed much to the decline and ruin of the country. The lack of means followed by a reduction of the army made it impossible for Justinian to establish himself firmly in the newly conquered provinces, and the results became evident during the reign of his successors. The religious policy of the Emperor was also a failure, for it did not bring about religious unity and resulted only in additional disturbances in the eastern Monophysitic provinces. Justinian met with most complete failure in his administrative reforms, which were begun with pure and sincere intentions and which led to the

impoverishment and depopulation of villages, particularly because of excessive taxation and extortions by local officials.

Two of Justinian’s achievements, however, left a deep mark. in the history of human civilization and completely justify the surname of “Great.” These two achievements are his code of civil law and the cathedral of St. Sophia.

4. The Heraclian epoch (610-717)

Heraclius and his immediate successors on the Byzantine throne form a dynasty which was probably of Armenian descent. At least this may be inferred from the Armenian historian of the seventh century, Sebeos, the invaluable source on the time of Heraclius, who writes that the family of Heraclius was related to the famous Armenian house of the Arsacids.[1] Somewhat contradictory to this assertion are references in several sources to the light golden hair of Heraclius.[2] He reigned from 610 to 641. By his first wife Eudocia, he had a son Constantine, who reigned after the death of his father for a few months only and also died in the year 641. He is known in history as Constantine III (one of the sons of Constantine the Great being considered as Constantine II). After the death of Constantine III the throne was occupied for several months by Heraclonas (Heracleon), a son of Heraclius by his second wife, Martina. He was deposed in the autumn of 641, and the son of Constantine III, Constans II, was proclaimed emperor and ruled from 641 to 668. The Greek form of his name, Constas (Latin, Constans), is probably a diminutive of Constantine, his official name; on Byzantine coins, in the western official documents of the period, and even in some Byzantine sources he is called Constantine. The people apparently called him Constans.

He was succeeded by his energetic son Constantine IV (668-85). Constantine IV is usually surnamed Pogonatus, meaning “the bearded,” but modern scholarship attributes this surname to the father rather than to the son.[3] With the death of Constantine IV in the year 685 ended the best period of the Heraclian dynasty, although his son, the last ruler of this dynasty, Justinian II, surnamed Rhinotmetus (“with a cut-off nose”), ruled twice, from 685 to 695 and from 705 to 711. The period of Justinian II, distinguished by many atrocities, has not yet been sufficiently studied. It seems reasonable to suppose that the Emperor’s cruel treatment of the representatives of the nobility was due not only to mere arbitrariness, but also to the concealed dissatisfaction of those members of the aristocracy who were not willing to become reconciled to his strong will and extreme autocratic policy and who strove to dethrone him. Some sources reveal clearly a traditional hostile tendency toward Justinian II. He was dethroned in 695. His nose and tongue were cut off[4] and he was exiled to the Crimean city of Cherson; he fled to the Khagan (Khan) of the Khazars, whose sister he later married. Still later, with the aid of the Bulgarians, he succeeded in regaining the Byzantine throne, and upon his return to the capital took cruel revenge on all those who had participated in his downfall. This tyranny called forth a revolution in the year 711, during which Justinian and his family were massacred. The year 711 marks the end of the Heraclian dynasty. During the period between the two reigns of Justinian II there were two accidental emperors; the military leader from Isauria, Leontius (695-98), and Apsimar, who assumed the name of Tiberius upon his accession to the throne (Tiberius III, 698-705). Some scholars are inclined to consider Apsimar-Tiberius of Gotho-Greek origin.[5] After the cruel deposition of Justinian II in the year 711, for a period of six years (711-17) the Byzantine throne was occupied by three accidental rulers: the Armenian Vardan or Philippicus (711-13); Artemius, renamed Anastasius during the coronation ceremony (Anastasius II, 713-15); and Theodosius III (715-17). The state of anarchy which prevailed in the Byzantine Empire from the year 695 ended in 717 with the accession of the famous ruler Leo III, who initiated a new epoch in the history of the Byzantine Empire.

External Problems

The Persian wars and the campaigns of Avars and Slavs.

Heraclius, a very gifted and active emperor, seemed practically a model ruler after the tyrannical Phocas. He proclaimed that “power must shine more in love than in terror,” reported the poet George of Pisidia, a contemporary, who described in good verse the emperor’s Persian campaigns and the invasion of the Avars.[6] “Heraclius was the creator of Mediaeval Byzantium,” Ostrogorsky said, “whose state conception is Roman, whose language and culture are Greek, whose faith is Christian.”[7] Heraclius’

achievements are the more noteworthy because at the time of his accession the position of the Empire was extremely dangerous. The Persians were menacing it from the east, the Avars and Slavs from the north, and internal affairs, after the unfortunate reign of Phocas, were in a state of complete anarchy. The new Emperor had neither money nor sufficient military force, and profound disturbances shook the Empire during the early part of his reign.

In the year 611 the Persians undertook to conquer Syria and they occupied Antioch, the main city of the eastern Byzantine provinces. Soon after they seized Damascus. Upon completing the conquest of Syria, they moved on to Palestine, and in the year 614 began the siege of Jerusalem, which lasted for twenty days. Then the Persian towers and battering-rams broke through the city wall, and, as one source put it, “the evil enemies entered the city with a rage which resembled that of infuriated beasts and irritated dragons.”[8] They pillaged the city and destroyed the Christian sanctuaries. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, erected by Constantine the Great and Helen, was robbed of its treasures and set on fire. The Christians were exposed to merciless violence and slaughter. The Jews of Jerusalem sided with the Persians and took active part in the massacres, during which, according to some sources, 60,000

Christians perished. Many treasures from the sacred city were transported to Persia, and one of the dearest relics of Christendom, the Holy Cross, was taken to Ctesiphon.

Numerous prisoners were sent to Persia, including the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Zacharias.[9]

This devastating Persian conquest of Palestine and the pillage of Jerusalem represent a turning point in the history of this province.

This was a disaster unheard of since the occupation of Jerusalem in the reign of Titus, but this time the calamity could not be remedied. Never again did this city have an era similar to the brilliant epoch under Constantine, and the magnificent buildings within its walls, such as the Mosque of Omar, never again created an epoch in history. From now on the city and its buildings constantly declined, step by step, and even the Crusades, so abounding in results and various spoils for Europe, caused only trouble, confusion, and degeneration in the life of Jerusalem. The Persian invasion immediately removed the effects of the imported artificial Graeco-Roman civilization in Palestine. It ruined agriculture, depopulated the cities, destroyed temporarily or permanently many monasteries and lauras, and stopped all trade development. This invasion freed the marauding Arabian tribes from the ties of association and the fear which had controlled them, and they began to form the unity which made possible their general attacks of a later period. From now on the cultural development of the country is ended. Palestine enters upon that troubled period which might very naturally be called the period of the Middle Ages, were it not for the fact that it has lasted to our own times.[10]

The ease with which the Persians conquered Syria and Palestine may be explained partly by the religious conditions in these provinces. The majority of the population, particularly in Syria, did not adhere to the official orthodox faith supported by the central government. The Nestorians, and later the Monophysites, of these provinces were greatly oppressed by the Byzantine government; hence they quite naturally preferred the domination of the Persian fire-worshipers, in whose land the Nestorians enjoyed comparative religious freedom.

The Persian invasion was not limited to Syria and Palestine. Part of the Persian army, after crossing all of Asia Minor and conquering Chalcedon on the Sea of Marmora near the Bosphorus, encamped near Chrysopolis (present-day Scutari), opposite Constantinople, while another Persian army set out to conquer Egypt. Alexandria fell, probably in the year 618 or 619. In Egypt, just as in Syria and Palestine, the Monophysitic population heartily preferred Persian to Byzantine domination. The loss of Egypt was a heavy blow to the Byzantine Empire, for Egypt was the granary of Constantinople. Stoppage of the supply of Egyptian grain had heavy repercussions on economic conditions in the capital.

With the heavy losses in the south and east caused by the Persian wars, there appeared another great menace to the Byzantine Empire from the north. The Avaro-Slavonic hordes of the Balkan peninsula, headed by the Khagan of the Avars, moved southward, pillaging and destroying the northern provinces and reaching as far as Constantinople, where they broke through the city walls. This expedition was not a campaign, but rather a series of raids, which furnished the Khagan with numerous captives and rich spoils which he carried off to the north.[11] These invaders are mentioned in the writings of Heraclius’ western contemporary, Isidore, bishop of Seville, who remarked in his chronicle that “Heraclius entered upon the sixteenth (fifth) year of his reign, at the beginning of which the Slavs took Greece from the Romans, and the Persians took Syria, Egypt, and many provinces.”[12] At about this time (624) Byzantium was losing its last possessions in Spain, where the Visigoths’

conquest was completed by King Suinthila (Swinthila). The Balearic Islands remained in the hands of Heraclius.[13]

After some hesitation the Emperor decided to begin war with Persia. In view of the exhaustion of the treasury, Heraclius had recourse to the valuables of the churches in the capital and the provinces, and ordered a large amount of gold and silver coins to be made from them. As he had anticipated, he was able to remove the menace of the Khagan of the Avars in the north by sending him distinguished hostages and a large sum of money. In the spring of 622 Heraclius crossed to Asia Minor, where he recruited a large number of soldiers and trained them for several months. The Persian campaign, which incidentally aimed at recovering the Holy Cross and the sacred city of Jerusalem, assumed the form of a crusade.

Modern historians think it probable that Heraclius conducted three Persian campaigns between the years 622 and 628. All three were brilliantly successful. A contemporary poet, George of Pisidia, composed an Epinikion (Song of Victory) for the occasion, entitled the Heraclias; and in another poem, the Hexaemeron (“The Six Days”), on the creation of the world, he alluded to the six-year war in which Heraclius vanquished the Persians. A twentieth-century historian, Th. I. Uspensky, compared Heraclius’ war with the glorious campaigns of Alexander the Great.[14] Heraclius secured the aid of the Caucasian tribes and formed an alliance with the Khazars. The northern Persian provinces bordering the Caucasus formed one of the main arenas of military action for this reign.

While the Emperor was absent leading the army in distant campaigns, the capital became exposed to very serious danger. The Khagan of the Avars broke the agreement with the Emperor and in the year 626 advanced toward Constantinople with huge hordes of Avars and Slavs. He also formed an agreement with the Persians, who immediately sent part of their army to Chalcedon. The Avaro-Slavonic hordes besieged Constantinople to the extreme apprehension of the population, but the garrison of Constantinople was successful in repelling the attack and putting the enemy to flight.

As soon as the Persians heard of this repulse, they withdrew their army from Chalcedon and directed it to Syria. The Byzantine victory over the Avars before Constantinople in 626 was one of the main causes of the weakening of the wild Avar kingdom.[15]

Meanwhile, at the end of 627 Heraclius completely routed the Persians in a battle which took place near the ruins of ancient Nineveh (in the neighborhood of modern Mosul on the Tigris), and advanced into the central Persian provinces, collecting rich spoils. He sent to Constantinople a long and triumphant manifesto, describing his successes against the Persians and announcing the end of the war and his brilliant victory.[16] “In 629 Heraclius’ glory was complete; the sun of his genius had dissipated the darkness which hung over the Empire, and now to the eyes of all a glorious era of peace and grandeur seemed opening. The eternal and dreaded Persian enemy was prostrated forever; on the Danube the might of the Avars was rapidly declining. Who could then resist the Byzantine armies? Who could menace the Empire?”[17] At this time the Persian king Chosroes was dethroned and killed, and his successor, Kawad Sheroe, opened peace negotiations with Heraclius. According to their agreement the Persians returned to the Byzantine Empire the conquered provinces of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, and the relic of the Holy Cross. Heraclius returned to the capital in great triumph, and in 630, with his wife Martina, he left for Jerusalem, where the Holy Cross was restored to its former place to the great joy of the entire Christian world. The contemporary Armenian historian Sebeos gave an account of this occasion: There was much joy at their entrance to Jerusalem: sounds of weeping and sighs, abundant tears, burning flames in hearts, extreme exaltation of the emperor, of the princes, of all [he soldiers and inhabitants of the city; and nobody could sing the hymns of our Lord on account of the great and poignant emotion of the emperor and of the whole multitude. The emperor restored [the Cross] to its place and returned all the church objects, each to its place; he distributed gifts to all the churches and to the inhabitants of the city and money for incense.[18]

It is interesting to note that Heraclius’ victory over the Persians is mentioned in the Koran. “The Greeks have been overcome by the Persians in the nearest part of the land; but after their defeat, they shall overcome the others in their turn, within a few years.”[19]

The significance of the Persian campaigns of Heraclius. — This Persian war marks a very significant epoch in the history of the Byzantine Empire. Of the two main world powers of the early Middle Ages, the Byzantine Empire, and Persia, the second definitely lost its former significance and became a weak state soon to cease its political existence because of the attacks of the Arabs. The victorious Byzantine Empire dealt the death blow to its constant enemy, reclaimed all the lost eastern provinces of the Empire, restored the Holy Cross to the Christian world, and at the same time freed its capital of the formidable menace of the Avaro-Slavonic hordes. The Byzantine Empire seemed to be at the height of its glory and power. The sovereign of India sent his congratulations to Heraclius on his victory over the Persians, together with a great quantity of precious stones.[20] The king of the Franks, Dagobert, sent special ambassadors to make a perpetual peace with the Empire.[21] Finally in 630 the queen of the Persians, Borane, apparently also sent a special envoy to Heraclius and made formal peace.[22]

Heraclius officially assumed the name basileus for the first time after the successful outcome of the Persian war, in the year 629. This name had been in use for centuries in the East, particularly in Egypt, and with the fourth century it became current in the Greek-speaking parts of the empire, but it had not previously been accepted as an official title. Up to the seventh century the Greek equivalent of the Latin

“emperor” (imperator) was the term “autocrator” (αυτοκρατωρ), that is, an autocrat, which does not correspond etymologically to imperator. The only foreign ruler to whom the Byzantine emperor consented to give the title of basileus (with the exception of the distant king of Abyssinia) was the king of Persia. Bury wrote: “So long as there was a great independent Basileus outside the Roman Empire, the emperors refrained from adopting a title which would be shared by another monarch. But as soon as that monarch was reduced to the condition of a dependent vassal and there was no longer a concurrence, the Emperor signified the events by assuming officially the title which had for several centuries been applied to him unofficially.”[23]

The Arabs.

The reclaimed provinces of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt with their predominating Monophysttic population again brought to the fore the painful and highly significant question of the government’s attitude toward the Monophysites. The lasting and persistent struggle of Heraclius with the Persians, in spite of the brilliant final outcome, was bound to weaken temporarily the military power of the Byzantine Empire because of the heavy losses in man power and the exceedingly heavy financial strain. But the Empire did not get the much-needed period of rest because, soon after the end of the Persian war, there appeared a formidable menace, entirely unexpected and at first not fully appreciated: the Arabs. They opened up a new era in the world’s history by their attacks upon the Byzantine Empire and Persia.

Gibbon spoke of their advance as follows; “While the Emperor triumphed at Constantinople or Jerusalem, an obscure town on the confines of Syria was pillaged by the Saracens, and they cut in pieces some troops who advanced to its relief; an ordinary and trifling occurrence, had it not been the prelude of a mighty revolution. These robbers were the apostles of Mahomet; their fanatic valor had emerged from the desert; and m the last eight years of his reign Heraclius lost to the Arabs the same provinces which he had rescued from the Persians.”[24]

Muhammed and Islam.

Long before the Christian era the Arabs, a people of Semitic origin, occupied the Arabian peninsula and the Syrian desert which lies to the north of it and stretches as far as the Euphrates River. The peninsula of Arabia, embracing an area equal to approximately one-fourth of Europe, is surrounded by the Persian Gulf on the east, the Indian Ocean on the south, and the Red Sea on the west; in the north it runs gradually into the Syrian desert. Historically, the best-known provinces of the peninsula were (1) Nedjd, on the central plateau; (2) Yemen, or Fortunate Arabia, in the southwest of the peninsula; and (3) Hidjaz, the narrow strip along the coast of the Red Sea, extending from the north of the peninsula to Yemen. The arid land was not everywhere habitable, and the Arabs, who were a nomadic people, occupied chiefly central and northern Arabia. The Bedouins, who were nomads, considered themselves the pure and genuine representatives of the Arabian race and the true bearers of personal dignity and valor.

They treated with arrogance and even with contempt the settled inhabitants of the few cities and hamlets.

The Roman Empire was inevitably bound to come into collision with the Arabian tribes on its eastern Syrian border, which it was forced to protect. For this purpose the Roman emperors erected a line of border fortifications, so-called Syrian limes which resembled, on a small scale, of course, the famous limes romanus on the Danubian border, erected for defense against Germanic attacks. Some ruins of the principal Roman fortifications along the Syrian border survive at present.[25]

As early as the second century B.C. independent states began to form among the Arabs of Syria. They were strongly influenced by the Aramean and Greek civilizations; hence they are sometimes referred to as the Arabo-Aramean Hellenistic kingdoms.

Among the cities, Petra became particularly wealthy and important because of its advantageous position at the crossing of great commercial routes. The magnificent ruins of this city attract the attention of historians and archeologists even today.

From a cultural and political point of view the most important of all Syrian-Arabic kingdoms in the epoch of the Roman Empire was Palmyra, whose valiant queen, the Hellenistically educated Zenobia, as the Roman and Greek writers call her, formed a large state in the second half of the third century A.D. by conquering Egypt and the major part of Asia Minor. According to B. A. Turaev,[26] this was the first manifestation of the reaction of the East and the first breaking up of the Empire into two parts, eastern and western. The Emperor Aurelian restored the unity of the Empire, and in the year 273 the conquered queen had to follow the triumphal chariot of the conqueror when he entered Rome. Rebellious Palmyra was destroyed. Its imposing ruins, however, like those of Petra, still attract scholars and tourists. The famous epigraphic monument of Palmyra, the tariff of Palmyra, engraved on a stone of enormous size and containing very valuable information about the trade and finance of the city, has been transferred to Russia and is now at the Hermitage in Leningrad.

Two Arabian dynasties stand out very distinctly during the Byzantine period.

One, the dynasty of the Ghassanids in Syria, Monophysitic in its religious tendencies and dependent upon the Byzantine emperors, became particularly powerful in the sixth century under Justinian, when it aided the Byzantine Empire in its military undertakings in the East. This dynasty probably ceased to exist in the early seventh century, when the Persians conquered Syria and Palestine. The second Arabian dynasty, the Lakhmids, centered in the city of Hira on the Euphrates. Because of its vassal relations with the Persian Sassanids it was hostile to the Ghassanids. It also ceased at the beginning of the seventh century. In the city of Hira Christianity, in its Nestorian form, had a body of adherents, and even some members of the Lakhmid dynasty accepted it. Both dynasties had to defend the borders of their kingdom, the Ghassanids on the Byzantine side and the Lakhmids on the Persian. Apparently both vassal states disappeared at the beginning of the seventh century, so that at the time of Muhammed’s advance there was not a single political organization within the confines of the Arabian peninsula and the Syrian desert which could be called a state. There had existed in Yemen since the end of the second century B.C. the kingdom of the Sabaeans-Himyarites (Homerites). But in about the year 570 Yemen was conquered by the Persians.[27]

Before the time of Muhammed the ancient Arabs lived in tribal organizations.

Blood relationship was the only basis for common interests, which were confined almost exclusively to loyalty, protection, aid, and revenge upon enemies for insults suffered by the tribe. The least occasion sufficed for starting lasting and bloody struggle between tribes. References to these ancient times and customs have been preserved in old Arabic poetry, as well as in prose tradition. Animosity and arrogance were the two predominant elements in the mutual relations of different tribes of ancient Arabia.

The religious conceptions of the ancient Arabs were primitive. The tribes had their own gods and sacred objects, such as stones, trees, and springs, through which they aspired to divine the future. In some parts of Arabia the worship of stars prevailed.

According to one expert in Arabic antiquity, the ancient Arabs in their religious experiences hardly rose above the feelings of a fetishist before the worshiped object.[28] They believed in the existence of friendly, and, more frequently, unfriendly, forces which they called djinn (demons). Among the Arabs the conception of the higher invisible power of Allah was vague. Prayer as a form of worship was apparently unknown to them, and when they turned to the deity, their invocation was usually an appeal for aid in revenging some injury or injustice suffered from an enemy. Goldziher asserted also that “the surviving pre-Islamic poems do not contain any allusions to a striving toward the divine even on the part of the more sublime souls, and give only slight indications about their attitude to the religious traditions of their people.”[29]

The nomadic life of the Bedouins was naturally unfavorable to the development of distinct permanent places for the performance of religious worship, even of a very primitive form. But there were, besides the Bedouins, the settled inhabitants of cities and hamlets which sprang up and developed along the trade routes, mainly on the caravan road leading from the south to the north, from Yemen to Palestine, Syria, and the Sinaitic peninsula. The richest among the cities along this route was Mecca (Macoraba, in ancient writings), famous long before Muhammed’s appearance. Second in importance was the city of Yathrib, the future Medina, situated farther north. These cities were convenient stopping points for the trade caravans traveling from the north and south. There were many Jews among the merchants of Mecca and Yathrib, as well as among the population of other portions of the peninsula, such as northern Hidjaz and Yemen. From the Romano-Byzantine provinces of Palestine and Syria in the north, and from Abyssinia through Yemen in the south, many Christians penetrated into the peninsula. Mecca became the central gathering point for the mixed population of the peninsula. From remote times there existed in Mecca the sanctuary Kaaba (the Cube) which was originally distinctly non-Arabic. It was a cube-shaped stone building, about thirty-five feet high, concealing the main object of worship, the black stone. Tradition claimed that this stone had been sent down from heaven, and associated the erection of the sanctuary with the name of Abraham. Because of its advantageous commercial position, Mecca was visited by merchants from all Arabian tribes. Some legends affirm that, in order to attract more visitors to the city, idols of various tribes were placed within the Kaaba, so that representatives of each tribe could worship their favorite deity during their stay in Mecca. The number of pilgrims increased constantly, being particularly great during the sacred period of the “Peace of God,” an observance which more or less guaranteed the territorial inviolability of the tribes who sent representatives to Mecca. The time of religious festivals coincided with the great fair at Mecca, where the Arabs and foreign merchants carried out trade transactions which gave Mecca enormous profits. The city was rapidly growing very wealthy. About the fifth century A.D. a distinguished tribe of Kuraish began to dominate in the city. The material interests of the money-loving Meccans were not neglected, and the sacred gatherings were often utilized by the citizens for the promotion of their own selfish interests. According to one scholar, “with the dominance of the nobility, charged with performing the traditional ceremonies, the city assumed a materialistic, arrogantly plutocratic character, and deep religious satisfaction could not be found there.”[30]

Under the influence of Judaism and Christianity, with which the Arabs had ample opportunity to become acquainted in Mecca, there appeared even before Muhammed isolated individuals truly inspired by religious ideals distinctly different from the dry ritual of the old religious customs. An aspiration toward monotheism and the acceptance of the ascetic form of living were the distinguishing ideals of these modest apostles. They found gratification in their personal experiences but did not influence or convert the people about them. The man who unified the Arabs and founded a world religion was Muhammed, who, from a modest preacher of penitence, became at first a prophet, and later the chief of a political community.

Muhammed was born about 570. He was a member of the Hashimite clan, one of the poorest clans of the Kuraish tribe. His parents died while he was still very young, and he had to earn his own living by acting as a driver of camels in the trade caravans of the rich widow Khadidja. His material condition improved greatly when he married her. He was of a sensitive, sickly disposition from early childhood, and under the influence of his contact with the Jews and Christians began to meditate more and more upon the religious organization of Mecca. The doubts which frequently arose in his mind caused him many moments of despair and endless suffering, and he became subject to nervous attacks. During his solitary wanderings on the outskirts of Mecca he was troubled by visions, and within him strengthened the conviction that God had sent him to save His people who had followed the wrong path.

Muhammed was forty years old when he determined to express his views openly, at first as a modest preacher of morality in his own family. Later he began to preach to a small group of people from the lower classes, and shortly after to some distinguished citizens. The chiefs of Kuraish, however, were openly against Muhammed and made it impossible for him to remain in Mecca. He secretly departed with his followers from his native city in the year 622, and went northward to the city of Yathrib, whose population, including the Jews, had frequently urged him to come to their city, promising him more favorable living conditions. They received him and his followers very warmly and later changed the name of their city to Medina, meaning “the city of the prophet.”

The year of the migration or, as it is more frequently but incorrectly called, the year of the flight (hidjra in Arabic, distorted by Europeans into hegira) of Muhammed from Mecca to Medina marks the Muhammedan era.[31] Beginning with the year 622, the Arabs and all other Muslim peoples count their chronology by using as a unit the lunar year, which is somewhat shorter than the solar year. The Muhammedans usually consider Friday, July 16, of the year 622 the beginning of the first year of the hegira.

This chronology, however, was introduced only during the sixteenth year counting from 622.

The original sources bearing on Muhammedanism are unsatisfactory; there is almost no authentic information about the early Meccan period of Muhammed’s life. At that time his teaching was of such a vague, almost chaotic, nature that it was not yet possible to call it a new religion.

In Medina Muhammed became the head of a large community and began to lay the foundations for a political state on a religious basis. Having developed the main principles of his religion, introduced certain religious ceremonies, and strengthened his political position, he set out to conquer Mecca in the year 630. Upon entering the city he immediately destroyed its idols and all survivals of polytheism. The cult of an only God — Allah — was the basis of the new religion. Muhammed granted a sort of amnesty to all his enemies, and allowed no murder or robbery. From that time Muhammed and his followers freely made their pilgrimages to Mecca and practiced their new rites. Muhammed died in the year 632.

He was not a logical thinker; hence his religious teaching can hardly be presented in a systematic way. This teaching was not an original creation; it had developed under the influence of other religions — Christianity, Judaism, and to some extent Parsism (Zoroastrianism), the religion of the Persian kingdom of the Sassanids of that time. Modern historians have reached the conclusion that “the original Muhammedan community, contrary to earlier opinion, was more closely related to Christianity than to Judaism.”[32] Muhammed had become acquainted with other religions in his youth during his travels with the caravans, and later in Mecca and Yathrib (Medina). The distinctive feature of his teaching is a realization of the complete dependence of man upon God and a blind resignation to His will. The faith is strictly monotheistic, and God is considered unlimited in his power over His creatures. The Muhammedan religion assumed the name of Islam, which means “resignation or submission to God,” and the followers of Islam are called Muslims, or Muhammedans.

At the basis of this religion lies the distinct idea of a single God, Allah. The statement

“There is only one God and Muhammed is his apostle” is one of the fundamental principles of Islam. Both Moses and Jesus Christ were recognized as prophets, Christ being the penultimate prophet; but the new teaching claimed that neither was as great as Muhammed. During his sojourn in Medina Muhammed declared that his religious teaching represented a pure restoration of the religion of Abraham, corrupted by the Christians and Jews. One of Muhammed’s first problems was to lead the Arabs out of their state of barbarism (Djahiliyya in Arabic), and inculcate in them higher moral principles. Instead of the widely spread cruel custom of revenge, he preached to his people peace, love, and self-control. He was responsible for putting an end to the custom which prevailed among certain Arabian tribes of burying alive newly born girls.

He also attempted to regulate marital relations and limit polygamy by reducing the legally permissible number of wives to four, allowing more freedom in this respect to himself alone. In place of the old tribal conceptions, he advanced the idea of personal rights, including the right of inheritance. Muhammed introduced some directions regarding prayer and fasting; it was necessary to face in the direction of the Kaaba during prayer, and the great fasting period was set in the ninth month, called Ramadan.

The weekly holiday was set on Friday. The new teaching prohibited the use of blood, wine, pork, and the flesh of animals which died a natural death or which had served as sacrifices for pagan idols. Gambling was also prohibited. Belief in angels and the devil was compulsory for all Muslims, and the conceptions of heaven and hell, of the Resurrection, and the Last Judgment were distinctly materialistic. The basic elements of these conceptions can be found in the Jewish-Christian apocryphal literature.

Muhammed included in his teaching the mercy of God, the repentance of sinners, and the advocacy of good deeds. Modern religious rules and regulations developed gradually, some after the death of Muhammed. Thus, for example, prayer at a set time had not yet been strictly established, even in the time of the Umayyads (Omayyads, Ommiads).[33] The prescribed requirements can be reduced to five: (1) the profession of faith in an only God, Allah, and his prophet, Muhammed; (2) the performance of a definite prayer at a set time with the strict observance of prescribed rituals; (3) the contribution of a certain sum of money toward meeting the military and charitable expenses of the Muhammedan community; (4) fasting during the month of Ramadan; and (5) the pilgrimage to the Kaaba in Mecca (in Arabic such a pilgrimage is called hadj). All the basic principles and regulations of the Muhammedan faith are laid down in a sacred book of revelations of Muhammed, the Koran, which is subdivided into 114

chapters (Sura in Arabic). The tales of Muhammed’s teachings and deeds, collected later in various books, bear the name of Sunna.

The history of early Islam in the time of Muhammed is obscure and debatable because of the present condition of sources bearing upon this period. And yet for the history of the Byzantine Empire during the seventh century this problem is of extreme significance, since its adequate solution may affect greatly the explanation of the unusual and rapid military success of the Arabs, who took from the Byzantine Empire its eastern and southern provinces: Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and North Africa.

The observations of three profound students illustrate the prevalence of contradictory opinions among scholars with regard to Islam. Goldziher wrote, “There is no doubt that Muhammed thought of spreading his religion beyond the borders of Arabia and of transforming his teaching, originally communicated only to his nearest relatives, into a force which would dominate the entire world.”[34] Grimme stated that on the basis of the Koran one is led to believe that the final aim of Islam was “the complete possession of Arabia.”[35] Caetani wrote that the prophet never dreamed of converting the entire land of Arabia and all the Arabs.[36]

In Muhammed’s litetime not all of Arabia came under his sway. It may be said generally that Arabia, during all of its existence, never recognized a sole ruler for the entire land. In reality Muhammed dominated a territory which occupied perhaps less than a third of the peninsula. This area became strongly influenced by the new ideas of Islam, but the remaining part of Arabia persisted under a political and religious organization differing very little from that which had existed before the appearance of Muhammed. Christianity prevailed in the southwest of the peninsula, in Yemen. The tribes of northeastern Arabia also adopted the Christian faith, which soon became the predominating religion in Mesopotamia and in the Arabian provinces along the Euphrates River, Meanwhile, the official Persian religion was constantly and rapidly declining. Thus, at the time of his death Muhammed was neither the political ruler of all Arabia nor its religious leader.

It is interesting to note that at first the Byzantine Empire viewed Islam as a kind of Arianism and placed it on a level with other Christian sects. Byzantine apologetic and polemic literature argues against Islam in the same manner as it did against the Monophysites, the Monotheletes, and the adherents of other heretical teachings. Thus John Damascene, a member of a Saracen family, who lived at the Muhammedan court in the eighth century, did not regard Islam as a new religion, but considered it only an instance of secession from the true Christian faith similar in nature to other earlier heresies. The Byzantine historians also showed very little interest in the rise of Muhammed and the political movement which he initiated.[37] The first chronicler who records some facts about the life of Muhammed, “the ruler of the Saracens and the pseudo-prophet,” was Theophanes, who wrote in the early part of the ninth century.[38] In the conception of medieval western Europe Islam was not a distinct religion, but a Christian sect, akin in its dogmas to Arianism; and even in the later part of the Middle Ages Dante, in his Divine Comedy, considered Muhammed a heretic and calls him a “sower of scandal and schism” (Seminator di scandalo e di scisma [Inferno, XXVIII, 31-36]).

Causes of the Arabian conquest in the seventh century. — It is customary to point out the religious enthusiasm of the Muslims, which frequently rose to a state of religious fanaticism and absolute intolerance, as one of the main causes for the striking military success of the Arabs in their combat with Persia and the Byzantine Empire in the seventh century. The Arabs are supposed to have rushed upon the Asiatic and African provinces with a determination to carry out the will of their prophet, who had prescribed the conversion of the entire world to the new faith. The victories of the Arabs are ordinarily explained by the religious enthusiasm which prepared the fanatical Muslims to regard death with disdain and made them invincible.

This view should be recognized as unfounded. At the time of Muhammed’s death there were few convinced Muslims, and even this small number remained in Medina until the end of the first great conquests. Very few of the followers of Muhammed fought in Syria and Persia. The great majority of the fighting Arabs consisted of Bedouins who knew of Islam only by hearsay. They were concerned with nothing but material, earthly benefits, and craved spoils and unrestrained license. Religious enthusiasm did not exist among them. Besides, early Islam was tolerant in nature. The Koran states directly that “God will not force anyone beyond his capacity” (II, 257). The indulgent attitude of early Islam toward Christianity and Judaism is well known. The Koran speaks of God’s tolerance of other faiths; “If thy Lord wished, he would make the people as one religious community” (XI, 120). The religious fanaticism and intolerance of the Muslims are later phenomena, alien to the Arabic nation and explainable by the influence of the Muslim proselytes. The victorious conquests of the Arabs in the seventh century cannot be credited to religious enthusiasm and fanaticism.

According to some recent investigations, such as Caetani’s, the real causes of the irrepressible onward rush of the Arabs were materialistic. Arabia, limited in natural resources, could no longer satisfy the physical needs of its population, and threatened by poverty and hunger, the Arabs were forced to make a desperate attempt to free themselves “from the hot prison of the desert.” Unbearable living conditions were responsible for the crushing force with which the Arabs rushed upon the Byzantine Empire and Persia. There was no religious element in this movement.[39]

Though this view is correct to a certain extent, one cannot find a full explanation of the military success of the Arabs in material needs alone. Included also among the causes were internal conditions in the eastern and southern Byzantine provinces so easily occupied by the Arabs, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. Their growing religious dissatisfaction has been repeatedly pointed out. Monophysitic and partly Nestorian in their adherence, they came into conflict continually with the inexorable central government, particularly after the death of Justinian the Great. It was the unyielding policy of the emperors that rendered the provinces of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt ready to secede from the Byzantine Empire and become subjects of the Arabs, who were known for religious tolerance and were interested only in obtaining regular taxes from the conquered provinces. The religious convictions of the conquered peoples concerned the Arabs little.

On the other hand, the orthodox portion of the eastern provinces was also dissatisfied with the policy of the central authorities because of some concessions to the Monophysites, especially in the seventh century. In connection with the Monothelete tendency of Heraclius, Eutychius, the Christian Arabian historian of the tenth century, said that the citizens of Emesa (Hims) called the Emperor a “Maronite (Monothelete) and an enemy of our faith,”[40] and Beladsori, another Arabian historian of the ninth century, said that they then turned to the Arabs, saying, “Your rule and your justice are more agreeable to us than that tyranny and those insults to which we have been subject.”[41] Of course, this is Muhammedan testimony; but it accurately reflects the frame of mind of the orthodox population. The major part of the population of the Byzantine provinces of Syria and Palestine was of Semitic origin and largely of Arabic descent, and that the Arabian conquerors met in the subjected provinces a people of their own race who spoke their own tongue. According to one scholar, “It was, therefore, not a question of conquering a foreign land, whose taxes would constitute the only direct gain, but also of reclaiming part of their own fatherland which was declining under the foreign yoke.”[42] In addition to the general religious dissatisfaction and the kinship to the Arabs, the Byzantine Empire and her army were weakened after the long-continued, though finally successful, campaigns against the Persians, and could not offer the proper resistance to the fresh Arabian forces.

In Egypt there were special causes for the weak resistance to the Arabs. The main reason must be sought in the general conditions prevailing in the Byzantine army.

Numerically the troops were perhaps sufficiently strong; but the general organization of the army was poor. It was subdivided into many parts commanded by five different rulers or dukes (duces), entrusted with equal power. There was no unity of action among these governors. Their indifference to the general problems of the province, their personal rivalries, the lack of solidarity and coordination toward a common end, and their military incapacity paralyzed resistance. The soldiers were no better than their leaders. Numerous as the Egyptian army was, its poor leadership and poor training made it very unreliable and created a strong tendency toward defection.

“There is no doubt that numerous causes explain the terrifying successes of the Arabs,”

Maspero said, “but the main cause of the Byzantine defeat in the valley of the Nile was the poor quality of the army which was intrusted, contrary to all expectations, with the task of defending Egypt.”[43] On the basis of the study of papyri, Gelzer thought that the class of privileged large landowners which arose in Egypt previous to the period of the Arabian conquests became practically independent of the central government and, though it did not create an actual local ruling body, was also one of the main causes for the fall of Byzantine domination.[44] Amélineau, also on the basis of a study of papyri, suggested as another important factor which facilitated the Arabian conquest the inadequate civil administration of Egypt.[45] The English papyrologist H. I. Bell called the conquest of Egypt by the Arabs “no miracle, no example of divine vengeance on erring Christendom; it was merely the inevitable collapse of a structure rotten at the core.”[46] Thus the list of primary causes for Arabian success includes religious conditions in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, the racial kinship of the population of the two first countries to the people of Arabia, the inadequacy of military forces, inefficient military organization and poor civil administration, and class relations in Egypt.

Byzantine as well as the Arabic historical tradition exaggerates very greatly the numerical strength of the troops on both sides. In reality, the armies of the two contending sides were not very large. Some scholars set the number of Arabian soldiers who took part in the Syrian and Palestinian campaigns at 27,000 and even then fear that this figure is an exaggeration of the actual number.[47] The Byzantine army was probably even less numerous. Also, the military operations were carried on, not only by the Arabs of the peninsula, but also by the Arabs of the Syrian desert adjoining the Persian and Byzantine borders.

Closer study of early Islam clearly moves the religious element into the background for the political events of the period. “Islam changed into a political force, because only as such could it triumph over its enemies. Had Islam remained forever a simple moral and religious teaching, its existence would have ceased quickly in skeptical, materialistic Arabia, particularly in the hostile atmosphere of Mecca.”[48]

“The champions of Islam had to deal not so much with the conversion of the infidels, as with their subjection.”[49]

Arabian conquests up to the early eighth century. Constantine IV and the siege of Constantinople by the Arabs. Justinian II and the Arabs. — After the death of Muhammed (632), his relative, Abu-Bakr (Abu-Bekr) was elected as the leader of the Muslims with the title of Caliph (Khalifa), meaning “vicar.” The three subsequent caliphs, Omar, Othman, and Ali, were also raised to their position by election, but did not form a dynasty. These four immediate successors of Muhammed are known as the

“orthodox caliphs.” The most significant conquests made by the Arabs on Byzantine territory fall in the time of Caliph Omar.

That Muhammed wrote to the rulers of other lands, including Heraclius,

proposing that they accept Islam, and that Heraclius responded favorably, is now recognized as a later invention without historical foundation.[50] There are, however, even today scholars who accept this correspondence as a historical fact.[51]

In Muhammed’s lifetime only separate detachments of Bedouins crossed the Byzantine border. But in the time of the second caliph, Omar, events developed rapidly.

The chronology of the military events of the thirties and forties of the seventh century is obscure and confused, but probably events developed in the following order: In the year 634 the Arabs took possession of the Byzantine fortress Bothra (Bosra), beyond the Jordan; in 635 the Syrian city of Damascus fell; in 636 the battle on the River Yarmuk led to the Arabian conquest of the entire province of Syria; and in 637 or 638 Jerusalem surrendered after a siege which had lasted for two years. The two leading roles in this siege were played by Caliph Omar on one side and the famous defender of orthodoxy, Patriarch Sophronius of Jerusalem on the other. The text of the agreement upon which Sophronius surrendered Jerusalem to Omar and which established certain religious and social guaranties for the Christian population of the city has survived, with, unfortunately, some later alterations. The Christians had succeeded in removing the Holy Cross from Jerusalem before the Arabs entered the city, and in sending it to Constantinople. The conquest of Mesopotamia and Persia, which happened

simultaneously with these Byzantine occupations, terminated the first period of the Arabian conquests in Asia. At the end of the thirties the Arabian chief Amr appeared at the eastern border of Egypt and began its conquest. After the death of Heraclius, in the year 641 or 642, the Arabs occupied Alexandria and the victorious Amr sent this message to Omar in Medina: “I have captured a city from the description of which I shall refrain. Suffice it to say that I have seized therein 4000 villas with 4000 baths, 40,000 poll-tax-paying Jews and four hundred places of entertainment for the royalty.”[52] Toward the end of the forties the Byzantine Empire was forced to abandon Egypt forever. The conquest of Egypt was followed by further advances of the Arabs toward the western shores of North Africa. By the year 650 Syria, a part of Asia Minor and Upper Mesopotamia, Palestine, Egypt, and part of the Byzantine provinces in North Africa, were already under Arabian sway.

The conquests, by bringing the Arabs to the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, put before them new problems of a maritime nature. They had no fleet and were powerless against the numerous Byzantine vessels to which the new Arabian provinces along the seashore were easily accessible. The Arabs recognized the seriousness of the situation very quickly. The Syrian governor and the future caliph, Muawiya (Moawiya), actively began the construction of numerous vessels whose crews had to be gathered at first among the native Greco-Syrian population accustomed to seafaring. Recent studies of papyri reveal the fact that at the end of the seventh century the construction of ships and their equipment with experienced mariners was one of the great problems of the Egyptian administration.[53]

As early as the fifties of the seventh century, in the time of Constans II, the Arabian vessels of Muawiya began their attacks upon Byzantine districts and occupied the important maritime center, the island of Cyprus. Near the coast of Asia Minor they defeated the Byzantine fleet commanded by the Emperor himself, seized the island of Rhodes, destroying there the famous Colossus of Rhodes, and reached as far as Crete and Sicily, menacing the Aegean Sea and apparently heading for the capital of the Empire. The captives taken during these expeditions, particularly those of Sicily, were transported to the Arabian city of Damascus.

The Arabian conquests of the seventh century deprived the Byzantine Empire of its eastern and southern provinces and caused it to lose its important place as the most powerful state in the world. Territorially reduced, the Byzantine Empire became a state with a predominating Greek population, though not so completely as is believed by some scholars. The districts where the Greeks were in the great majority were Asia Minor with the neighboring islands of the Aegean Sea, and Constantinople with its adjoining province. By this time the Balkan peninsula in general, including the Peloponnesus, had changed considerably in its ethnographic composition because of the appearance of large Slavonic settlements. In the West the Byzantine Empire still possessed the separated parts of Italy which were not included in the Lombard kingdom, namely, the southern portion of Italy with Sicily and several other neighboring islands of the Mediterranean Sea, Rome, and the exarchate of Ravenna.

The Greek population, which centered primarily in the southern portion of these Byzantine possessions in Italy, increased very greatly in the seventh century, when Italy became the refuge for many inhabitants of Egypt and North Africa who did not wish to become subjects of the Arabian conquerors. It may be said that the Roman Empire was at this period transformed into a Byzantine Empire whose problems became narrower and lost their former sweeping nature. Some historians, for instance, Gelzer, think that the heavy territorial losses were indirectly even beneficial for the Byzantine Empire because they removed the foreign national elements, while “the population of Asia Minor and those parts of the Balkan peninsula which still recognized the authority of the Emperor, formed, by language and faith, a perfectly homogeneous and solidly loyal mass.”[54] From the middle of the seventh century the attention of the Empire had to be directed chiefly to Constantinople, Asia Minor, and the Balkan peninsula. But even these diminished possessions were constantly threatened by the Lombards, Slavs, Bulgarians, and Arabs. L. Bréhier wrote that “this period initiated for Constantinople that historical role of perpetual defense which lasted until the fifteenth century with alternate periods of contraction and expansion.”[55]

In connection with the repercussions of the Arabian conquests, it is extremely important to take into serious consideration the data of the Byzantine hagiographic texts, a source which has hitherto been overlooked or neglected. Byzantine hagiography gives a vivid and striking picture of the mass Byzantine migration from the borderland to the center of the Empire under pressure of Arabian invasions by land and sea, Hagiography confirms, enlarges, and illustrates well those extremely brief indications which historians and chroniclers supply. The paramount significance of the Arabian danger in causing congestion and condensation of the population in the central regions of the Empire may be henceforth considered fully proved.[56]

Further Arabian conquests in North Africa were stopped for a time by the energetic resistance of the Berbers. Military activity on the part of the Arabs was also halted because of the internal struggle which broke out between the last “orthodox caliph” Ali and the Syrian governor Muawiya. This bloody strife ended in the year 661

by the massacre of Ali and the triumph of Muawiya, who ascended the throne, inaugurating thus the new dynasty of the Umayyads (Omayyads). The new caliph made Damascus the capital of his kingdom.

After his success in strengthening his power at home, Muawiya renewed the offensive war against the Byzantine Empire by sending his fleet against the Byzantine capital and by reviving the westward movement on North African territory.

The most trying period for the Byzantine Empire came during the reign of the energetic Constantine IV (668-85), when the Arabian fleet crossed the Aegean Sea and the Hellespont, entered the Propontis, and established itself in the city of Cyzicus.

Using this harbor as their base, the Arabs repeatedly though unsuccessfully besieged Constantinople. They made their sieges annually, usually during the summer months.

The Arabs did not take the capital, chiefly because the Emperor knew how to prepare the city for offering the necessary resistance. The successful defense carried on by the Byzantine army was due primarily to the use of “Greek fire,” otherwise called “liquid”

or “Marine” fire, invented by the architect Callinicus, a Syrian-Greek fugitive. The common name of this invention has led to some misapprehensions. “Greek fire” was a sort of explosive compound, thrust out by special tubes or siphons, which inflamed when it struck against the vessel of the enemy. The Byzantine fleet was equipped with special “siphonophore” vessels which caused terrific confusion among the Arabs. There were also other methods of hurling this “artificial fire” at the enemy. The peculiar quality of this fire was the fact that it burned even on water. For a very considerable period of time the secret of the composition of this fire was vigilantly guarded by the government, because this new weapon aided the success of the Byzantine fleet in numerous instances.[57]

All the attempts of the Arabian vessels to capture Constantinople failed. In the year 677 the hostile fleet departed, sailing toward the Syrian shores. On its way there, off the southern coast of Asia Minor, it was demolished by a severe storm. The military operations on land in Asia Minor were also unsuccessful for the Arabs. The aged Muawiya was forced to negotiate a peace agreement with the Byzantine Emperor on the condition of paying him a definite annual tribute.[58]

By the successful repulse of the Arabs from Constantinople and by the advantageous peace treaty, Constantine performed a great service, not only for his own Empire, but also for western Europe, which was thus shielded from the serious Muslim menace. It is interesting to note that the success of Constantine made a strong impression in the West. According to one chronicler, when the news of Constantine’s accomplishments reached the Khagan of the Avars and other western rulers, “they sent ambassadors with gifts to the Emperor and begged him to establish peaceful and loving relations with them … and there came a time of great peace in the East and in the West.”[59]

During the first reign of Justinian II (685-95), the successor of Constantine IV, an event which was of considerable significance in the further development of Arabo-Byzantine relations occurred on the eastern Arabian border. The mountains of the Syrian Lebanon were inhabited for a long time by the so-called Mardaites, which may be translated “rebels,” “apostates,” or “bandits.” They were organized as an army and served as the rampart of the Byzantine authorities in this district. After the Arabian conquest of Syria the Mardaites retreated northward to the Arabo-Byzantine border and caused the Arabs much trouble and anxiety by their constant raids upon the neighboring districts. According to a chronicle, the Mardaites formed “a brass wall”[60]

which protected Asia Minor from Arabian irruptions. By the peace treaty negotiated under Justinian II the Emperor agreed to force the Mardaites to settle in the inner provinces of the Empire, and for this favor the caliph promised to pay a certain tribute.

This step on the part of the Emperor “destroyed the brass wall.” In later times the Mardaites are found as seafarers in Pamphylia (Southern Asia Minor), in the Peloponnesus, on the island of Cephalonia (Kephallenia) and in several other districts.

Their removal from the Arabian border unquestionably strengthened the position of the Arabs in the newly conquered provinces and facilitated the subsequent Arabian offensive movement into the depth of Asia Minor. There is no sufficient ground for viewing this event, as does Professor Kulakovsky, as an act prompted by “the emperor’s consideration for the Christians who were ruled by men of an alien faith.”[61] The basis for this transmigration of the Mardaites was a purely political one.

In the sixties of the seventh century, simultaneously with the attempts to seize Constantinople in the East, the Arabian army began its westward movement in North Africa. At the close of the seventh century the Arabs took Carthage, the capital of the African exarchate, and at the beginning of the eighth century they occupied Septem (now the Spanish fortress, Ceuta) near the Pillars of Hercules. About the same time the Arabs, under the leadership of their general, Tarik, crossed from Africa to Spain and rapidly conquered from the Visigoths the larger part of the peninsula. From the name of Tarik came the modern Arabic name of Gibraltar, meaning “the mountain of Tarik.”

Thus in the early part of the eighth century the Muhammedan menace to western Europe appeared from a different direction, namely, from the Pyrenean peninsula.

It is interesting to note how fast and how deep the Arab language and culture spread over Spain. A large number of urban Christians adopted Arabic culture though they did not adopt Islam; there were enough of them to constitute a social class, called by the epithet of Arab origin Mozarabs, that is, “arabicized,” In the ninth century the bishop of Cordoba, Alvaro, complained in one of his sermons:

Many of my coreligionists read verses and fairy tales of the Arabs, study the works of Muhammedan philosophers and theologians not in order to refute them but to learn to express themselves properly in the Arab language more correctly and more elegantly.

Who among them studies the Gospels, and Prophets and Apostles? Alas! All talented Christian young men know only the language and literature of the Arabs, read and assiduously study the Arab books. … If somebody speaks of Christian books they contemptuously answer that they deserve no attention whatever (quasi vilissima contemnentes). Woe! The Christians have forgotten their own language, and there is hardly one among a thousand to be found who can write to a friend a decent greeting letter in Latin. But there is a numberless multitude who express themselves most elegantly in Arabic and make poetry in this language with more beauty and more art than the Arabs themselves.[62]

A similar process may be noted in Egypt. The year 699, when the Arab language was rendered obligatory in public use, marks the final end of Greek and Egyptian literatures on Egyptian soil. After that date we have the era of translation of Coptic works into Arabic.[63]

The relations established between the Arabs and the population of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt differed greatly from those created in North Africa, in the territories of modern Tripoli, Tunis, Algeria, and Morocco. In Syria, Palestine, and Egypt the Arabs did not meet any strong resistance on the part of the population, but rather commanded the support and sympathy of the conquered people. In response the Arabs treated their new subjects with great tolerance. With a few exceptions, they left the Christians their temples and the right to perform religious services, demanding in return only the regular payment of a definite tax and the assured political loyalty of the Christians to the Arabian rulers. Jerusalem, as one of the most revered places of Christendom, remained open to pilgrims who came to Palestine from distant points of western Europe to worship at the holy places. Jerusalem still kept its hostelries and hospitals for these pilgrims. It must also be remembered that in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt the Arabs came in contact with Byzantine civilization, and that influence soon became apparent among the conquerors. Briefly, in Syria and Palestine the conquerors and the conquered established peaceful relations which lasted for a considerable period of time. Somewhat less satisfactory was the state of affairs in Egypt; but even there the attitude to the Christians was quite tolerant, at least during the early years of the Arabian sway.

After the Arabian conquest the patriarchates of the occupied provinces fell into the hands of the Monophysites. In spite of this, the Muslim rulers granted certain privileges to the orthodox population of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, and after some lapse of time the orthodox patriarchates of Antioch and Alexandria were also restored.

These patriarchates still exist. The Arabian historian and geographer of the tenth century, Masudi, said that under the Arabian domination all four sacred mountains —

Mount Sinai, Horeb, the Mount of Olives near Jerusalem, and “the Mount of Jordan”

(Mount Thabor) — remained in the hands of the orthodox. Only gradually did the Monophysites and other “heretics,” including the Muslims, borrow from the orthodox the cult of Jerusalem and the holy places. Along with Mecca and Medina, Jerusalem was later recognized as a sacred Muslim city. For the Muhammedans the sacred significance of the city was established by the fact that Muawiya assumed the rank of caliph in Jerusalem.[64]

Quite different was the state of affairs in North Africa. There the great majority of the Berber tribes, in spite of the official adoption of Christianity, still remained in their former state of barbarism and offered a very strong resistance to the Arabian armies, which repaid this opposition by terrible raids and devastation in the Berber districts. Thousands of captives were taken east and sold there into slavery. “In the dead cities of Tunis,” said Diehl, “which are today in most cases in the same condition in which they were left by the Arabian invasion, one still finds at every turn some traces of these formidable raids.”[65] When the Arabians finally succeeded in conquering the north African provinces, many of the natives migrated to Italy and Gaul. The African church, once so famous in the annals of Christian history, suffered a very heavy blow. Here is what Diehl says with regard to the events of this period: “For two centuries the Byzantine Empire had conserved in these districts the difficult heritage of Rome; for two centuries the empire made the great and steady progress of these provinces possible by the strong defense of their fortresses; for two centuries it upheld in this part of North Africa the traditions of classical civilization and converted the Berbers to a higher culture by means of religious propaganda. In fifty years the Arabian invasion undid all these achievements.”[66] In spite of the rapid spread of Islam among the Berbers, however, Christianity still continued to exist among them, and even in the fourteenth century we hear of “some small Christian islands” in North Africa.[67]

The Slavonic advance and the origin of the Bulgarian kingdom.

From the second half of the sixth century the Slavs not only continually attacked and pillaged the Balkan possessions of the Byzantine Empire, but they reached as far as the Hellespont, Thessalonica, southern Greece, and the shores of the Adriatic Sea, and settled there in large numbers. The Avaro-Slavonic attack on the capital occurred in the year 626, during the reign of Heraclius; in the period of the Heraclian dynasty the Slavs persistently advanced into the peninsula and began to populate it very densely.

Thessalonica became surrounded by Slavonic tribes and found it difficult to seek protection against their attacks even within its strong city walls.

In their vessels the Slavs descended to the Aegean Sea, attacking the Byzantine fleet and frequently cutting off the supply of provisions to the capital. The emperor Constans II was forced to undertake a campaign “against Sclavinia.”[68] From this time dates the migration of large masses of Slavs to Asia Minor and Syria. Under Justinian II a horde of Slavs numbering no less than 80,000, according to V. I. Lamansky,[69] were transported to Opsikion, one of the themes of Asia Minor. One part of them (about 30,000) was mobilized by the Emperor and later took part in the struggle with the Arabs, during which they deserted the Emperor and sided with the Muhammedans. For this terrible offense the remaining Slavs of Opsikion were subjected to formidable massacres. A seal of the Slavonic military colony of Bithynia, a province in the theme of Opsikion, has survived from this period. It is a monument of great value, “a new fragment of Slavonic tribal history,” which affords “a ray of light in the twilight of the great migrations,” as B. A. Panchenko, who published and interpreted this seal, declared.[70] Beginning with the seventh century, the problem of Slavonic settlements in Asia Minor assumes a very profound significance.

The second half of the seventh century was marked also by the formation of the new Bulgarian kingdom on the northern border of the Byzantine Empire along the shore of the lower Danube, a state whose subsequent history was of extreme importance to the fate of the Empire. During this period the reference is to the old Bulgarians, a people of Hunnic (Turkish) origin, closely related to the tribe of Onogurs.

Under Constans II a Bulgarian horde headed by Asparuch (Isperich), forced by the Khazars to move westward from the steppes bordering the Sea of Azov, settled at the mouth of the Danube, and later moved farther south, entering the part of Byzantine territory which is now known as Dobrudja. These Bulgarians, as V. N. Zlatarsky asserted, had previously formed an agreement with the Byzantine Empire by which, as allies of the Empire, they were supposed to protect the Danubian border against the attacks of other barbarians.[71] It is difficult to say whether this assertion is correct or not because very little is known about the early history of the Bulgarians. Even if such an agreement really existed, it did not last very long. The Bulgar horde greatly preoccupied the mind of the Emperor, and in the year 679 Constantine IV undertook a campaign against them. The expedition ended in the complete defeat of the Byzantine army, and the Emperor was forced to negotiate a treaty according to which he bound himself to pay the Bulgarians annual tribute and cede to them the land between the Danube and the Balkans, namely, the former provinces of Moesia and Smaller Scythia (now Dobrudja). The mouth of the Danube and part of the Black Sea coast remained in the hands of the Bulgarians. The newly formed kingdom, recognized perforce by the Byzantine Emperor, became a dangerous neighbor.

After becoming politically established, the Bulgarians gradually widened their territorial possessions and collided with the compact Slavonic population of the neighboring provinces. The Bulgarian newcomers introduced military organization and discipline among the Slavs. Acting as a unifying element among the Slavonic tribes of the peninsula who had lived up to this time in separated groups, the Bulgarians gradually developed a powerful state which was, quite naturally, a great menace to the Byzantine Empire. In subsequent periods numerous military campaigns had to be organized by the Byzantine rulers against the Bulgarians and Slavs. Numerically weaker than the Slavs, the Bulgarian horde of Asparuch soon found itself under the great influence of the Slavonic atmosphere. Great racial changes took place among these Bulgarians; they gradually lost their original Hunnic (Turkish) nationality and became almost completely Slavonized by the middle of the ninth century, although even today they still bear their old name of Bulgarians.[72]

In 1899 and 1900 the Russian Archeological Institute at Constantinople

undertook to excavate the supposed site of the older Bulgarian seat (aul) and discovered extremely valuable survivals. On the site of the old capital of the Bulgarian kingdom (Pliska, or Pliskova) near the modern village of Aboba in northeastern Bulgaria, somewhat northeast of the city of Shumla (Shumen), the excavators discovered the foundations of the palace of the early Khans of Bulgaria and part of its walls with towers and gates, the foundations of a large church, inscriptions, many artistic and ornamental objects, gold and bronze coins, and lead seals.[73]

Unfortunately, these materials cannot be adequately evaluated and explained because the sources referring to this period are very scanty. One must confine himself at present to hypotheses and conjectures. Th. I. Uspensky, who directed the excavations, stated that the “discoveries made by the Institute on the site of the camp near Shumla have brought to light very important data which afford sufficient basis for the formation of a clear idea about the Bulgarian horde which settled in the Balkans, and about the gradual transformations caused by the influence of relations with the Byzantine Empire.”[74] “As evidenced by the earliest monuments of Bulgarian customs and manners, found during the excavation of their old capital,” the same scholar said,

“the Bulgarians soon became subject to the cultural influence of Constantinople, and their Khans gradually assumed in their court the customs and ceremonies of the Byzantine court.”[75] The major part of the monuments unearthed during the excavations belong to an epoch later than the time of Asparuch, chiefly to the eighth and ninth centuries. The excavations are far from being completed.

The proposal to move the capital of the Empire. — In the middle of the seventh century the position of Constantinople changed radically. The Arabian conquest of the eastern and southeastern Byzantine provinces, frequent Arabian attacks on the provinces of Asia Minor, the successful expeditions of the Arabian fleet in the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas, and, on the other hand, the rise of the Bulgarian kingdom on the northern border and the gradual advance of the Balkan Slavs toward the capital, the Aegean coast, and into Greece created new and singular conditions in Constantinople, which now no longer felt secure. The capital had always drawn its power from the eastern provinces, and now a part of these had been taken away from the Empire, while the remaining part became exposed to danger and threats on many sides. Only with reference to these new conditions can we properly analyze the desire on the part of Constans II to leave Constantinople and move the capital back to old Rome, or some other point in Italy. The chroniclers explain the Emperor’s departure from the capital by the fact that he was forced to flee by the hatred of the people, aroused by the Emperor’s murder of his brother,[76] but this explanation can hardly be accepted from a historical point of view.

The true reason was that the Emperor no longer considered it safe to remain in Constantinople. Besides, it is very likely that he realized the inevitable approach of the Arabian menace from North Africa to Italy and Sicily, and decided to strengthen the power of the Empire in the western part of the Mediterranean Sea by his presence, which would enable him to take all measures for preventing the Arabs from spreading their conquest beyond the boundaries of Egypt. It is probable that the Emperor did not intend to leave Constantinople forever, but desired only to establish for the Empire a second central point in the West, as had been the case in the fourth century, hoping that it might aid in halting the further advance of the Arabs. In any event, in modern historical literature the westward yearning of Constans II, somewhat puzzling at first glance, is explained by no personal sensitivity of the Emperor, but by political conditions.

Meanwhile, the state of affairs in Italy did not promise peace. The exarchs of Ravenna, having ceased to feel the strong will of the Emperor because of the great distance which separated them from Constantinople and also because of the extreme complexity of conditions in the East, openly tended toward defection. The Lombards were in possession of a large part of Italy. The Emperor’s authority, however, was still recognized in Rome, Naples, Sicily, and the southernmost part of Italy, where the population was predominantly Greek.

Upon leaving Constantinople, Constans II started out for Italy by way of Athens, and, after a sojourn in Rome, Naples, and the southern part of Italy, established himself in the Sicilian city of Syracuse. He spent the last five years of his reign in Italy without succeeding in accomplishing his original projects.

His struggle with the Lombards was not successful. Sicily was still constantly menaced by the Arabs. A plot was formed against the Emperor and he was killed in a pitiful manner in one of the Syracusan bathhouses. After his death the idea of transferring the capital to the West was abandoned, and his son, Constantine IV, remained in Constantinople.

Religious Policy of the dynasty

Monotheletism and the “Exposition of Faith.”

The Persian campaigns of Heraclius, by reclaiming for the Empire its

Monophysitic provinces — Syria, Palestine, and Egypt — once more brought to the fore the problem of the government’s attitude toward the Monophysites. Even during his campaigns Heraclius began negotiations with the Monophysitic bishops of the eastern provinces in order to bring about some sort of church unity by making certain concessions in the realm of dogma. It seemed that unity was possible if the Orthodox Church consented to recognize that Jesus Christ had two substances and one operation (energy, ενεργια), or one will (θελημα). From the last Greek word the teaching derived the name of Monotheletism, by which it is known in history.[77] Antioch and Alexandria, represented by their Monophysitic patriarchs appointed by Heraclius, were willing to work towards an agreement, as was Patriarch Sergius of Constantinople. But against the Monothelete doctrine rose the Palestinian monk, Sophronius, who lived in Alexandria, and his impressive arguments against the new teaching threatened to undermine the conciliatory policy of Heraclius. The Roman pope, Honorius, recognizing the danger of all disputes of dogmatical problems which had not been settled by the ecumenical councils, proclaimed that the teaching of one will was correct. Sophronius, raised to the rank of patriarch of Jerusalem, a position which afforded him ample opportunity for exerting still greater and wider influence, sent a synodical letter to the bishop of Constantinople in which he argued with great theological skill the unorthodoxy of the Monotheletic teaching. Anticipating the approach of great church disturbances, Heraclius issued the Ecthesis (εκθεσις) or Exposition of Faith, which recognized two natures and one will in Jesus Christ. The Christological part of this document was composed by Patriarch Sergius. The Emperor hoped that the Ecthesis would do much to reconcile the Monophysites with the orthodox, but his hopes were not realized. The new pope did not approve of the Ecthesis, and, attempting to defend the doctrine of the existence of two wills and two operations, proclaimed the Monotheletic teaching a heresy. This action introduced an unexpected animosity between the pope and the Emperor. Moreover, the Ecthesis was published when it could not have the great effect upon which Heraclius was counting.

The Emperor’s chief aim was to reconcile the eastern Monophysitic provinces with orthodoxy. But in the year 638, when the Ecthesis was published, Syria, Palestine, and the Byzantine portion of Mesopotamia no longer formed part of the Byzantine Empire, for they had been occupied by the Arabs. There was still the province of Egypt, but even its days were numbered. The Monophysitic question had lost its political importance, and the decree of Heraclius was of no consequence. For that matter, similar earlier attempts at religious compromise had never led to satisfactory results and never succeeded in solving the main problems, chiefly because of the constant obstinacy of the majority on each side.

“Type of Faith” of Constans II.

After the death of Heraclius, in the reign of Constans II, religious policy developed as follows. The Emperor still remained an adherent of Monotheletism in spite of the fact that the movement had lost its political importance and stood in the way of friendly relations with the papal throne. After the loss of Egypt, conquered by the Arabs in the forties, the Emperor made a series of attempts at reconciliation with the pope, offering to make several changes in the doctrines of the Monothelete teaching. With this aim in view, Constans II issued in the year 648 the Typus (τυπος), or

“Type of Faith,” which forbade “all Orthodox subjects being in immaculate Christian faith and belonging to the Catholic and Apostolic Church, to contend and to quarrel with one another over one will or one operation [energy], or two operations [energies]

and two wills.”[78] Besides prohibiting disputes, the Type ordered the removal of the written discussions on this question, which meant the Ecthesis of Heraclius, posted in the narthex of St. Sophia. But this measure of Constans II did not effect the desired religious peace. In the presence of representatives of the Greek clergy, at the Lateran Synod, Pope Martin condemned “the most impious Ecthesis [impiissima Ecthesis],” and the “vicious Typus [scelerosus Typus],” and declared all those whose names were connected with the composition of the two decrees guilty of heresy.[79] The outstanding theologian of the seventh century, Maximus Confessor, resolutely opposed the Type as well as the Monothelete teaching in general. Great dissatisfaction with the Emperor’s religious policy was also growing stronger in the eastern church.

Angered by the pope’s action at the Lateran Synod, Constans II ordered the exarch of Ravenna to arrest Martin and send him to Constantinople. The exarch carried out these orders, and Martin was convicted at Constantinople of an attempt to initiate an uprising against the Emperor in the western provinces. He was subjected to terrible humiliations and confined to prison. Somewhat later he was sent to the distant city of Cherson, on the southern coast of the Crimea, the usual place of exile for the disgraced in the Byzantine period. He died shortly after his arrival to the city. In his letters from Cherson the pope complained of bad living conditions and asked his friends to send him food, particularly bread, which “is talked of, but has never been seen.”[80]

Unfortunately Martin’s letters give little interesting data concerning the cultural and economic conditions of Cherson in the seventh century.

The Emperor and the patriarch of Constantinople continued negotiations with the successors of Martin on the papal throne, and finally made peace with the second successor, Vitalian. The schism in the churches ceased. This religious reconciliation with Rome was politically important for the Byzantine Empire because it strengthened the position of the Emperor in Italy.

The famous opponent of Monotheletism, Maximus Confessor, was arrested by the Italian exarch and transferred to Constantinople, where he was convicted by a jury and cruelly mutilated. Maximus died as a martyr in distant exile.

The Sixth Ecumenical Council and religious peace.

Although Monotheletism had lost its political significance, it still continued to sow discord among the people even after the prohibition of the Type. Then the successor of Constans II, Constantine IV, desirous of establishing complete religious peace in the Empire, convoked in the year 680 in Constantinople the Sixth Ecumenical Council, which condemned Monotheletism and recognized two natures in Jesus Christ displayed in his one hypostasis, and “two natural wills and operations [energies] going together harmoniously for the salvation of the human race.”[81]

Peace with Rome was definitely re-established. The communication sent by the sixth council to the pope addressed him as “the head of the first see of the Universal Church, standing on the firm rock of faith,” and declared that the pope’s message to the Emperor expounded the true principles of religion.[82]

Thus, in the time of Constantine IV, the Byzantine government definitely expressed itself against Monophysitism and Monotheletism. The patriarchates of Alexandria, Jerusalem, and Antioch, torn from the Empire by the Arabian conquest, nevertheless took part in the Sixth Ecumenical Council by sending their

representatives. The patriarch of Antioch, Macarius, who apparently lived in Constantinople and exercised jurisdiction only in Cilicia and Isauria,[83] argued the case of Monotheletism at the council, and for this stand was deposed and excommunicated. The decisions of the sixth council proved to Syria, Palestine, and Egypt that Constantinople had abandoned the desire to find a path for religious reconciliation with the provinces which no longer formed part of the Byzantine Empire. Religious peace with Rome was reached by way of resolute alienation from the Monophysitic and Monotheletic population of the eastern provinces, a fact which aided greatly the further strengthening of the Arabian power in these provinces. Syria, Palestine, and Egypt became definitely separated from the Byzantine Empire.

It cannot be said that the agreement reached with Rome on the Sixth Ecumenical Council lasted very long. Even in the reign of Justinian II, the successor of Constantine IV, relations between the Byzantine Empire and Rome became strained again. Desirous of completing the task of the Fifth and Sixth Ecumenical Councils, Justinian II summoned in 691 a synod in Constantinople, which was held in the Domed Hall. This council was called Trullan,[84] from the place of its meetings, or Quinisext (Quinisextum), because it completed the task of the two preceding ecumenical councils.

This synod called itself ecumenical. Pope Sergius refused to sign the acts of the council by reason of certain clauses, such as the prohibition of fasting on Saturdays, and the permission to priests to marry. Following the example of Constans II, who had exiled Martin to the Crimea, Justinian ordered Sergius to be arrested and brought to Constantinople. But the army of Italy protected him against the imperial commissioner, who would have lost his life had it not been for the intercession of the pope.[85]

During the second reign of Justinian II (705-11), Pope Constantine came at the invitation of the Emperor to Constantinople, the last pope to be summoned to the capital of the Byzantine Empire. He was treated with highest honors by Justinian, who, the papal biographer claims, prostrated himself before the pope with the imperial crown upon his head, and kissed his feet.[86] Justinian and the pope reached a satisfactory compromise, but there is no exact information on it. Pope Constantine, as the German church historian, Hefele, pointed out, had by this time undoubtedly attained the fair middle path which Pope John VIII (872-882) subsequently followed by declaring that “he accepted all those canons which did not contradict the true faith, good morals, and the decrees of Rome.”[87] Pope Constantine returned safely to Rome and was welcomed by the people with great joy. Religious peace seemed finally established within the greatly reduced boundaries of the Empire.

Origin and development of Theme Organization

In Byzantine history the organization of the themes is usually connected with the epoch of the Heraclian dynasty. The organization of the themes means that peculiar provincial organization, prompted by the conditions of the times, whose distinguishing feature was the growth of the military power of the provincial governors, and finally their complete superiority over the civil authorities. This process was not sudden but gradual. For a long time the Greek word theme (το θεμα) meant a military corps stationed in a province, and only later, probably in the eighth century, was it applied not only to the military detachment, but also to the province where it was stationed.

Thus it began to be applied to the administrative divisions of the Empire.

The main Byzantine source on the problem of the themes is the work On Themes, written by Constantine Porphyrogenitus, the emperor of the tenth century, and hence dating from a period much later than the epoch of the Heraclian dynasty. This work has also the disadvantage of being based in some places on geographical works of the fifth and sixth centuries, used very superficially or copied verbatim. But although this work does not give much information on theme organization in the seventh century, it does connect the beginning of the system with the name of Heraclius. The Emperor said:

“Since the reign of Heraclius the Libyan (i.e. African), the Roman Empire has become reduced in size and mutilated both from the east and from the west.”[88] Very interesting, though not yet fully explained, material on this problem is found in the works of the Arabian geographers Ibn-Khurdadhbah (Khordadhbeh), of the first half of the ninth century, and Kudama, of the early tenth century, though these men, of course, were not contemporaries of the Heraclian epoch. For the study of the earlier period of the theme system, historians have made use of occasional remarks of chroniclers and especially of the Latin message of Justinian II to the pope, dating from the year 687, regarding the confirmation of the Sixth Ecumenical Council. This epistle contains a list of the military districts of that period, not yet referred to as themes, but denoted by the Latin word exercitus (army).[89] In historical sources of that time the Latin word exercitus and the Greek word στρατος or sometimes στρατευμα were often used in the sense of a territory or province with military administration.

The true precursors of the theme organization were the exarchates of Ravenna and Carthage (Africa), established at the end of the sixth century. The attacks of the Lombards caused the drastic change in the administration of Italy, as those of the Berbers (Moors) caused in North Africa. The central government, with a view toward creating a more efficient defense against its enemies, attempted to form large territorial units with strong military authorities in its border provinces. The Persian, and later the Arabian, conquests of the seventh century, which deprived the Byzantine Empire of its eastern provinces, completely changed conditions in Asia Minor. From a land which practically never needed any serious defense it became transformed into a territory constantly and strongly menaced by its Muslim neighbors. The Byzantine government was forced to undertake decisive measures on its eastern border: military forces were regrouped and new administrative divisions were established, giving predominance to the military authorities, whose services at this time were of extreme importance. Equally great was the menace from the newly constructed Arabian fleet, which was almost master of the Mediterranean Sea as early as the seventh century, and threatened the shores of Asia Minor, the islands of the Archipelago, and even the shores of Italy and Sicily. In the northwest of the Empire the Slavs occupied a considerable part of the Balkan peninsula and penetrated far into Greece, including the Peloponnesus. On the northern border rose the Bulgarian kingdom (in the second half of the seventh century). These altered conditions forced the Empire to resort in the most insecure provinces to the establishment of extensive districts ruled by strong military power, similar to the exarchates. The Empire was militarized.[90]

The fact that the themes were not the result of one legislative act meant that each theme had its own history, sometimes a rather long one. The problem of the origin of themes can be solved only by special research on each individual theme.

Kulakovsky’s writings are of interest in this connection. The military measures taken by Heraclius after his victory over Persia were, he believed, the point of departure of the new administrative regime. Bréhier supported Kulakovsky in this view. Armenia may be an example of the militarization of the empire under pressure of the Persian danger, for when Heraclius reorganized Armenia, he appointed no civil administrator.

The authority was purely military. The theme system, then, was merely the application to other provinces of the regime instituted in Armenia.[91] Th. Uspensky called attention to the Slavs. When they inundated the Balkan peninsula about the time of the theme formation, he said, they “contributed to the formation of the theme organization in Asia Minor by supplying a considerable number of volunteers for the colonization of Bithynia.”[92] This statement is to be taken with caution, however, for there is no evidence of a mass Slav immigration into Asia Minor before the transporting of 80,000 Slavs to Opsikion under Justinian II at the end of the seventh century.

It is definitely known that for defense against the oncoming danger there were established in the East in the seventh century the following four large military districts, later called themes: 1) Armeniaci (Armeniakoi) in northeast Asia Minor bordering on Armenia; 2) Anatolici (Anatolikoi, from the Greek word Anatoli, ανατολη, “the east”); 3)

“the imperial God-guarded Opsikton” (Greek οψικιον, Latin, obsequium), in Asia Minor near the Sea of Marmora; and 4) the maritime thema Caravisionorum, called later, perhaps in the eighth century, Cibyrrhaeot (Cibyraiot), on the southern shore of Asia Minor and in the neighboring islands. The first two, occupying the entire middle portion of Asia Minor from the borders of Cilicia in the east to the shores of the Aegean Sea in the west were intended to serve as a protection against the Arabs. The third was to shield the capital from external enemies. The fourth, the maritime theme, was intended as a defense against the Arabian fleet.

A striking analogy exists between this theme organization and the militarization of the Persian Empire of the Sassanids, under the kings Kawadh and Chosroes Nushirvan, in the sixth century. In Persia also the whole territory of the empire was divided among four military commands. The analogy is so complete and so close that Stein explained it as a deliberate intention on the part of the Emperor to adopt the Persian reform. The sources, he said, give reason to believe that Heraclius studied the reforms of both Persian monarchs and perhaps even had access to some material from the Persian archives. “To learn from one’s enemy has always been the desire of all true statesmen.”[93]

In the Balkan peninsula the district of Thrace was created against the Slavs and Bulgarians, and later, perhaps at the end of the seventh century, the Greek military district of Hellas or Helladici (Helladikoi) was formed against Slavonic irruptions into Greece. About the same time, probably, the district of Sicily was organized against the maritime attacks of the Arabs, who were beginning to threaten the western part of the Mediterranean Sea. With very few exceptions these districts or themes were governed by strategi (strategoi). The ruler of the Cibyraiot (Cibyrrhaeot) theme was called the drungarius (vice-admiral), and the governor of Opsikion bore the title of comes.

The organization of the themes, then, may be traced back to Heraclius’ attempt to militarize the Empire under pressure of the Persian danger. He succeeded in accomplishing, however, as far as is known, the reorganization only of Armenia. The brilliant victory over Persia which led to the recovery of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, created an urgent need for reorganization in those provinces. Heraclius, however, had no time to accomplish this task because he speedily lost them again to the Arabs. The Persian danger had been eliminated, but a new, more menacing, Arab danger arose in its stead. Heraclius’ successors, following his lead, created military districts (later called themes) against the Arabs. Simultaneously the emperors were led by the growing Slavonic and Bulgarian menace in the north of the Empire to extend these methods of defense and protection in the Balkan peninsula and in Greece.

In these military districts and in the exarchates the civil authorities did not immediately give way to military rulers. The civil administration, the civil provinces (eparchies), continued to exist under the new order in the majority of districts. The military authorities, however, invested with full powers in view of external dangers, steadily made themselves felt more and more strongly in civil administration.

“Heraclius’ seed,” Stein remarked, “has marvelously grown.”[94]

Heraclius has left some trace in Byzantine legislation. In the published collection of Novels his period is represented by four which deal with various questions referring to the clergy and are dated from 612 to 629. There are some indications of other laws of Heraclius which have not been preserved in their entirety but of which there are traces; and it is possible to prove that some of these laws were accepted and introduced into legislation in the West by the Germans and in the East by the Arabs. This can be proved at least for some laws dealing with forgery of coins, official seals, and public documents.[95]

Period of Anarchy (711-17).

The three accidental rulers, Vardan or Philippicus, Anastasius II, and Theodosius III, who occupied the throne after Justinian II, were deposed in rapid succession. Anarchy and mutiny prevailed throughout the Empire. By favoring Monotheletism, Vardan broke off peaceful relations with Rome. Anastastus, however, succeeded in restoring the former agreement with the pope. In external affairs the Empire was particularly unsuccessful. The Bulgarians, determined to take revenge for the murder of Justinian, who had been friendly towards them, moved southward as far as Constantinople. The Arabs, advancing persistently by land through Asia Minor and by water in the Aegean Sea and the Propontis, also menaced the capital. The Empire was going through a very critical period, similar to the one which had preceded the revolution of the year 610, and once more it was in need of an able, energetic man who could save it from inevitable ruin. Such a man appeared in the person of the strategus of the theme of Anatolici, Leo, a man with a very wide following. The weak Theodosius III, realizing his complete impotence against the approaching menace, renounced his imperial rank, and in the year 717 Leo entered Constantinople in triumphant procession and was crowned emperor by the patriarch in the temple of St. Sophia. He spared the life of Theodosius III. Leo thus rose from a military ruler entrusted with wide power in the theme organization to emperor.

Literature, learning, and art.

With regard to letters and art, the period from 610 to 717 is the darkest epoch in the entire existence of the Empire. After the abundant activity of the preceding century, intellectual creativeness seemed to have died out completely. The main cause of the sterility of this period must be sought in the political conditions of the Empire, which was forced to direct all its energies toward defense against its external enemies. The Persian, and later the Arabian, conquest of the culturally advanced and intellectually productive eastern provinces of Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and North Africa, the Arabian menace to Asia Minor, the islands of the Mediterranean, and even the capital itself, the Avaro-Slavonic menace in the Balkan peninsula — all this created conditions practically prohibitive of any intellectual and artistic activity. Unfavorable conditions prevailed, not only in the provinces torn away from the Empire, but also in those which still formed part of it.

During this entire period the Byzantine Empire had not a single historian. Only the deacon of St. Sophia, George of Pisidia (a province in Asia Minor), who lived in the days of Heraclius, described in harmonious and correct verses the military campaigns of Heraclius against the Persians and the Avars. He left three historical works: (1) On the Expedition of Emperor Heraclius against the Persians, (2) On the Attack of the Avars on Constantinople in the Year 626, and Their Defeat through the Intercession of the Holy Virgin, and (3) Heraclias, a panegyric in honor of the Emperor on the occasion of his final victory over the Persians. Among other works of a polemic, elegiac, and theological nature we might point out the Hexaemeron (Six Days), a kind of philosophical-theological didactic poem on the creation of the universe with allusions to contemporary events. This work, dealing with the favorite subject of Christian writers, spread beyond the borders of the Byzantine Empire; for instance, a Slavo-Russian translation was made in the fourteenth century. The poetical genius of George of Pisidia was appreciated in later centuries, and in the eleventh century the famous Byzantine scholar and philosopher, Michael Psellus, was even asked to solve the problem: “Who was a better writer of verse, Euripides or George of Pisidia?” The modern scholarly world regards George as the best secular poet of the Byzantine period.[96]

Among the chroniclers were John of Antioch and the anonymous author of the Chronicon Paschale (Easter Chronicle). John of Antioch, who lived probably in the time of Heraclius, wrote a universal chronicle including the period from Adam to the death of the Emperor Phocas (610). In view of the fact that this work has survived only in fragments, there have been long disputes among scholars with regard to the identity of the author. Sometimes he has been even identified with John Malalas, also a native of Syrian Antioch. Insofar as the surviving fragments show, the work of John of Antioch should be recognized as much superior to the work of Malalas, for it does not consider world history from the narrow confines of a native of Antioch, and has, therefore, a much broader historical aim. It also exhibits a more skillful use of early sources. It was also in the time of Heraclius that some unknown clergyman composed the so-called Chronicon Paschale (Easter Chronicle) which, although it is nothing but a list of events from Adam until A.D. 629, contains several rather interesting historical remarks. The main value of this unoriginal work lies in the determination of the sources used and in that part which deals with events contemporary with the author.

In the field of theology the Monotheletic disputes of the seventh century, just as the Monophysitic disputes of earlier ages, gave rise to a fairly extensive literature which has not, however, been preserved, having been condemned by the councils of the seventh century and destined to perish early, in a manner similar to that of the Monophysitic writings. This literature must be judged, therefore, almost exclusively on the basis of the acts of the Sixth Ecumenical Council and the works of Maximus Confessor, which quote fragments of these extinguished works in the course of confuting them.

Maximus Confessor was one of the most remarkable Byzantine theologians. As a contemporary of Heraclius and Constans II, he was a convinced defender of orthodoxy during the period of the Monothelete disputes of the seventh century. For his convictions he was sent to prison and, after numerous tortures, exiled to the distant Caucasian province of Lazica, where he remained until the end of his days. In his works dealing with polemics, the exegesis of the Scriptures, asceticism, mysticism, and liturgies he reflected chiefly the influence of the three famous church fathers —

Athanasius the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa — as well as the mystical views of the so-called “Dionysius the Areopagite” (Pseudo-Areopagite), widely spread in the Middle Ages. The writings of Maximus were of particular importance in the development of Byzantine mystics. “By combining the dry speculative mysticism of Dionysius the Areopagite,” wrote one of the modern students of Maximus, “with the living ethical problems of contemplative asceticism, the blessed Maximus created a living type of Byzantine mysticism which reappeared in the works of numerous later ascetics. He may thus be considered the creator of Byzantine mysticism in the full sense of the term.”[97] Unfortunately Maximus did not leave a systematic account of his views, and they must be winnowed from his numerous writings. Besides his theological and mystical writings, Maximus left also a large number of interesting letters.

The influence and importance of the writings of Maximus were not confined to the East alone. They found their way into the West and were later reflected in the writings of the famous western thinker of the ninth century, John the Scot Eriugena (Johannes Scotus Eriugena), who was also greatly interested in the works of Dionysius the Areopagite, and later averred that he attained an understanding of the “obscurest”

ideas of Dionysius only through the “marvelous manner” in which they were explained by Maximus, whom Eriugena calls “the divine philosopher,” “the all-wise,” “the most distinguished of teachers,” etc. Maximus’ work on Gregory the Theologian was translated by Eriugena into Latin.[98] A younger contemporary of Maximus, Anastasius Sinaita (of Mount Sinai), developed his own polemic and exegetic literary works in a manner similar to that of Maximus, exhibiting, however, much less genius.

In the field of hagiography one might point out the patriarch of Jerusalem, Sophronius, who lived through the Arabian siege of the sacred city and wrote an extensive narrative of the martyrdom and miracles of the Egyptian national saints, Cyrus and Johannes. This work contains much information on geography and on the history of manners and customs. Still greater in interest are the writings of Leontius, bishop of Neapolis in Cyprus, who also lived in the seventh century. He was the author of several “lives,” among which the Life of John the Merciful, archbishop of Alexandria in the seventh century, is particularly valuable for the history of the social and economic life of the period. Leontius of Neapolis differs from the great majority of hagiographs in that he wrote his Lives of Saints for the mass of the population; hence his language reflects a strong influence of the popular spoken language.[99]

In the field of church hymn-writing the seventh century is represented by Andrew (Andreas) of Crete, a native of Damascus, who spent the major part of his life in Syria and Palestine after they had come under Arab sway. He was later appointed archbishop of Crete. As a writer of hymns he is famous chiefly because of his Great Canon, which is read even today in the orthodox church twice during Lent. Some parts of the Canon show the influence of Romanus the Hymnwriter (Melode). The Canon reviews the principal events of the Old Testament, beginning with the fall of Adam, and the words and deeds of the Saviour.

This brief survey of literary events during the dark and trying years of the Heraclian dynasty shows that most of the limited number of Byzantine writers of the period came from the eastern provinces, some already under the new rule of the Muslim conquerors.

In view of the external events of the Heraclian dynasty, it is not surprising that no monuments of art of that period exist today. However, the very small number of surviving monuments of the seventh century speak clearly of the solidity of the foundations laid for the artistic life of Byzantium in the Golden Age of Justinian the Great. And though, beginning with the second half of the sixth century, Byzantine art makes itself felt only very slightly within the Empire, its influence in the seventh century is very clearly marked beyond the borders of the Empire. A number of dated churches of Armenia represent splendid examples of Byzantine influence. Among these are the Cathedral of Edgmiatsin (Etschmiadzin), restored between 611 and 628, and the church of the citadel of Ani (622). The mosque of Omar at Jerusalem, built in 687-90, is a purely Byzantine work. Some frescoes of Santa Maria Antica at Rome belong to the seventh or the beginning of the eighth century.[100]

5. The Iconoclastic epoch (717-867)

The Isaurian or Syrian Dynasty.

Until recently the Emperor Leo III (717-741), the originator of the new dynasty, was called an Isaurian in historical writings, and his descendants were usually referred to as the Isaurian dynasty. However, at the close of the nineteenth century the opinion was advanced that Leo III was not an Isaurian by birth, but a Syrian.[1] This view is at present accepted by some scholars,[2] but is rejected by others.[3] The confusion on this point can be traced back to the early ninth century chronicler Theophanes, author of the main source on Leo’s origin. He wrote; “Leo the Isaurian was a native of Germanicea, and was in reality from Isauria.”[4] The papal librarian Anastasius, who translated Theophanes into Latin in the second half of the ninth century, made no mention of Isauria but stated that Leo came from the people of Germanicea and was a Syrian by birth (genere Syrus).[5] The Life of Stephen the Younger also calls Leo “a Syrian by birth” (ο συρογενης).[6] Germanicea was situated within the northern boundaries of Syria, east of Cilicia. An Arabian source referred to Leo as “a Christian citizen of Marash,” i.e. Germanicea, who could speak fluently and correctly both the Arabic and Roman languages.[7] There is no reason to suppose that Theophanes confused the Syrian Germanicea with Germanicopolis, a city of the Isaurian province.[8] The Syrian origin of Leo is quite probable.

The son of Leo III, Constantine V Copronymus (741-75), married Irene, daughter of the Khagan of the Khazars (Chazars). He had by her a son, Leo IV, often called the Khazar (Chazar), who reigned from 775 to 780. Leo IV married a Greek girl from Athens, another Irene, who at his death became ruler of the Empire because her son, Constantine VI, proclaimed Emperor from 780 to 797, was a minor. Irene, a woman of great force and ambition, entered into a struggle for power with her son when he attained his majority, and was victorious; she dethroned and blinded her son, and became sole ruler of the Empire (797-802). She illustrates the problem of whether or not in the Byzantine Empire women could exercise sovereign power on the throne, i.e.

be rulers of the Empire in the full meaning of the term. Since the time of the founding of the Empire wives of emperors had borne the title “Augusta,” and in case of the minority of their sons, had fulfilled the functions of imperial power, but always in the name of their sons. In the fifth century, Pulcheria, sister of Theodosius, had been at the head of the regency during the minority of her brother. Theodora, wife of Justinian the Great, had occupied an exceptional position of influence upon political affairs. But Theodora’s political influence depended entirely upon the will of her husband, and the other women had all ruled in the name of a son or a brother. Irene is the first instance in Byzantine history of a woman ruling with full authority of supreme power. She was a true autocrat, ruling in her own right, and she represented an innovation which contradicted the secular traditions of the Empire. It is interesting to note that in official documents and decrees she was not called “empress” but “Irene, the faithful emperor (basileus).”[9] Since it was the conception of the period that only an emperor, a man, could be the official lawgiver, it became necessary to adopt the fiction that Irene was an emperor. She was dethroned by the revolution of the year 802, initiated and led by one of the highest civil officials, Nicephorus, and she later died in exile. Nicephorus ascended the throne, and thus, with Irene’s deposition, ended the Isaurian or Syrian dynasty. In the period from 717 to 802 the Byzantine Empire was ruled by a dynasty of eastern origin from Asia Minor or northern Syria, intermixed with Khazarian blood through the marriage of Constantine V.

The attitude toward Arabs, Bulgarians, and Slavs.

At the time of Leo’s accession to the throne the Byzantine Empire was

experiencing one of the most critical periods in its history. In addition to the frightful internal anarchy caused by the Emperor’s struggle with the representatives of the Byzantine aristocracy, which had become particularly aggressive since the time of the first deposition of Justinian II, there was the Arabian menace in the East, which was coming closer to the capital. The period resembled the seventies of the seventh century under Constantine IV, and seemed even more critical in many respects.

The Arabian forces on land passed through all of Asia Minor to the west, even during the reign of the two predecessors of Leo, and occupied Sardis and Pergamus, near the shores of the Aegean Sea. At the head of the Arabian troops stood a distinguished general, Maslamah. Only a few months after Leo’s entry into Constantinople in 717, the Arabs moved on northward from Pergamus, reaching Abydos on the Hellespont, and upon crossing to the European shore, soon found themselves at the walls of the capital. At the same time a strong Arabian fleet consisting of 1,800 vessels of different types, according to the chronicle of Theophanes, sailed through the Hellespont and the Propontis and surrounded the capital by sea. A real siege of Constantinople ensued. Leo demonstrated his brilliant military ability, however, by preparing the capital for the siege in an excellent manner. Once more the skillful use of “Greek fire” caused severe damage in the Arabian fleet, while hunger and the extremely severe winter of 717-18 completed the final defeat of the Muslim army.

By force of an agreement with Leo III, as well as in self-defense, the Bulgarians also were fighting against the Arabs on Thracian territory and caused heavy losses in their army. Slightly more than a year after the beginning of the siege, the Arabs departed from the capital, which was thus saved by the genius and energy of Leo III. The first mention of the chain which barred the way into the Golden Horn to the enemy ships was made in connection with this siege.

Historians attach very great significance to this failure of the Muslims to occupy Constantinople. It is justly claimed that by his successful resistance Leo saved, not only the Byzantine Empire and the eastern Christian world, but also all of western European civilization. The English scholar Bury calls the year 718 “an ecumenical date.” The Greek historian Lampros compares these events to the Persian wars of ancient Greece and calls Leo the Miltiades of medieval Hellenism. If Constantine IV halted the Arabs under Constantinople, Leo III definitely forced them back. This was the last attack of the Arabs upon the “God-guarded” city. Viewed from this standpoint, Leo’s victory assumes universal historical significance. The expedition of the Arabs against Constantinople, as well as the name of Maslamah, have left a considerable trace in the later Muhammedan legendary tradition; the name of the latter is also connected with a mosque, which, tradition says, he constructed at Constantinople.[10]

And yet this was one of the most brilliant epochs in the history of the early caliphate. Powerful Calif Walid I (705-15), a contemporary of the period of anarchy in the Byzantine Empire, could vie with the emperors in his construction achievements. A mosque was erected in Damascus which, like St. Sophia for the Christians, remained for a long time the most magnificent structure of the Muslim world. Muhammed’s grave at Medina was as splendid as the Holy Sepulcher at Jerusalem. It is interesting to note that among the Muslims these buildings were associated with legends relating not only to Muhammed but also to Christ. The first call of Jesus when he returns to earth, declares Muslim tradition, will come from one of the minarets of the mosque of Damascus, and the free space next to Muhammed’s grave at Medina will serve for the grave of Jesus when he dies after his second advent.[11]

Gradually the struggle between the Empire and the caliphate assumed the

character of a sacred war. The results were satisfactory to neither Greeks nor Arabs, for the Greeks did not gain Jerusalem and the Arabs did not gain Constantinople. “Under the influence of this outcome,” said V. Barthold, “among the Christians as well as among the Muslims, the idea of the triumphant state changed to the idea of repentance, and both were expecting the end of the world. It seemed to both that only just before the end of the world could the final aims of their states be attained. In the Latin, as well as in the Greek, world a legend became current to the effect that before the end of the universe the Christian ruler (the Frankish king or the Byzantine emperor) would enter Jerusalem and hand over his earthly crown to the Saviour, while the Muslims expected the end of the world to be preceded by the fall of

Constantinople.[12] It was not accidental that the reign of the ‘sole pious’ Umayyad calif, Omar II (717-20), came about the year 100 of the hegira (about the year 720), when the end of the Muslim state, and at the same time the end of the world, were expected after the unsuccessful siege of Constantinople in the time of the preceding calif, Suleiman.”[13]

Fourteen years after the siege, in the year 732, the Arabian advance from Spain into western Europe was successfully arrested at Poitiers by Charles Martel, the all-powerful major-domo of the weak Frankish king.[14]

After their defeat in the year 718 the Arabs did not undertake any more serious military actions against the Empire in the time of Leo III, especially since they were apparently menaced in the north by the Khazars. Leo III had arranged the marriage of his son and successor, Constantine, with the daughter of the Khagan of the Khazars, and he began to support his new kinsman. Thus, in his struggle with the Arabs Leo found two allies: first the Bulgarians, and later the Khazars. The Arabs did not remain quiet, however, but continued their attacks upon Asia Minor and penetrated frequently far into the west, reaching even Nicaea, i.e., almost touching the shores of the Propontis. At the end of his reign Leo succeeded in defeating the Arabs at Acroïnon in Phrygia (present-day Afiun-Qara-Hisar on the railroad to Konia). This defeat forced the Arabs to clear the western part of Asia Minor and retreat to the east. With the battle at Acroïnon the Muslims connected the legend of the Turkish national hero, Saiyid Battal Ghazi, the champion of Islam, whose grave is shown even today in one of the villages south of Eskishehr (medieval Dorylaeum). The historical figure personifying this hero was the champion of Muhammedanism, Abdallah al-Battal, who fell in the battle of Acroïnon.[15] The problem of the Arabian struggle, then, was brilliantly solved by Leo III.

In the middle of the eighth century serious internal troubles arose in the Arab caliphate in connection with the change of dynasties, when the Umayyads (Omayyads) were deposed by the Abbasids. The latter transferred the capital and the center of their government from Damascus to Bagdad on the Tigris, far removed from the Byzantine border. This made it possible for the successor of Leo III, Constantine V, to move the imperial border farther east along the entire boundary of Asia Minor by means of a number of successful expeditions.

But in the time of Irene, under the Caliph al-Mahdi, the Arabs again initiated a successful offensive movement into Asia Minor, and in the year 782-83 the Empress was forced to beg for peace. The resulting agreement, concluded for three years, was very humiliating for the Empire. The Empress assumed the obligation of paying the Arabs a yearly tribute of ninety or seventy thousand dinars (denarii) in semiannual instalments. It is very likely that the troops sent by Irene to Macedonia, Greece, and the Peloponnesus in the same year (783) to quell the Slavonic revolt were taken from the eastern front, thus weakening the Byzantine position in Asia Minor. In the year 798, after the successful operations of the Arab army under the Caliph Harun-ar-Rashid, a new peace agreement was concluded with the Byzantine Empire, which was to pay a tribute, as in the time of al-Mahdi.

Very active relations existed between the emperors of the Isaurian dynasty and the Bulgarians. The latter, having recently gained a stronghold on the Lower Danube, were forced above all to defend their political existence against the Byzantine attempts to destroy the achievements of Asparuch. Internal conditions in the Bulgarian kingdom of the eighth century were very intricate. The Bulgarian chiefs competed with each other for the supreme rank of khan and initiated many dynastic disturbances, and, as new conquerors, the Bulgarians were forced to struggle with the conquered Slavs of the peninsula. The Bulgarian khans of the late seventh and early eighth centuries showed great ingenuity in handling relations with their most dangerous enemy, the Byzantine Empire. The Bulgarians had aided Justinian II in reclaiming the throne and rendered active assistance to Leo III in his drive to force the Arabs away from Constantinople.

After this, for a period of over thirty years, the Byzantine writers say nothing about the Bulgarians. During the reign of Leo III the Bulgarian kingdom succeeded in maintaining peace with the Empire.

In the reign of Constantine V relations with the Byzantine Empire became strained. With the aid of the Syrians and Armenians, who had been transported from the eastern border and made to settle in Thrace, the Emperor constructed a number of fortifications along the Bulgarian border. Constantine treated with contempt the Bulgarian ambassador to Constantinople. Following this the Bulgarians began military operations. Constantine conducted eight or nine campaigns against the Bulgarians both on land and on sea, with the aim of annihilating the Bulgarian kingdom. These expeditions continued with varying results. In the end Constantine failed to attain his goal, but some historians call him “the first Bulgar-slayer” (Bulgaroctonus),”[16]

because of his energetic struggle against the Bulgarians and because of the numerous fortresses he constructed against them.

Within Bulgaria dynastic troubles ceased at the end of the eighth century, and the sharp antagonism between the Bulgarians and the Slavs became less pronounced.

In short, there came about the gradual formation of the Bulgaria of the ninth century, Slavonized and transformed into a powerful state with definite offensive projects as regards the Byzantine Empire. This offensive policy became evident in the late eighth century, in the time of Constantine VI and his mother Irene, when the Byzantine Empire after its military failures was forced to agree to pay tribute to the Bulgarians.

In the military collisions between the Empire and the Bulgarians of the eighth century, the Bulgarian forces included also the Slavs, who formed part of their kingdom. The occupation of the Balkan peninsula by the Slavs also continued in the eighth century. One western pilgrim to the Holy Places, a contemporary of Leo III, visited the Peloponnesian city of Monembasia and wrote that it was situated in Slavonic (Slavinian) land (in Slawinia terrae).[17] There are references to the presence of Slavs in Dyrrachium and in Athens in the eighth century.[18] The following well-known lines (quoted also in an earlier part of this work) in the work of Constantine Porphyrogenitus, On the Themes, refer also to the days of Constantine V: “The whole of the Peloponnesus became slavonized and barbarian when the plague spread through the entire universe.”[19] The reference here is to the formidable epidemic of 746-47, imported from Italy, which especially devastated the south of Greece and Constantinople. In an attempt to rehabilitate the capital after the epidemic, Constantine transported to Constantinople people from various provinces. Even in the opinion of the population, the Peloponnesus was Slavonized as early as the middle of the eighth century; to the same period must be referred the influx of new settlements in Greece established in place of those communities whose population was either extinguished by the epidemic or taken to the capital when the effort was being made to rehabilitate it. At the end of the eighth century the Empress Irene sent a special expedition “against the Slavonic tribes,” to Greece, Thessalonica, and the Peloponnesus.[20] Later these Greek Slavs took an active part in the plot against Irene.

This indicates clearly that in the eighth century the Slavs in the Balkan peninsula, including all of Greece, were not only definitely and strongly established, but even participated in the political life of the Empire. By the ninth century the Bulgarians and the Slavs became two very serious enemies of the Byzantine Empire.

The internal activities of the emperors of the Isaurian dynasty.

Legislation. — Leo III was not only a gifted leader and energetic defender of his Empire against external enemies, but also a wise and capable legislator. Even in the time of Justinian the Great, in the sixth century, the Latin text of his Code, Digest, and Institutes was little, or not at all, understood in the majority of provinces. In many districts, in the east particularly, old local customs were used in preference to official statutes, as was clearly evidenced by the popularity of the Syrian Lawbook of the fifth century. The Novels (Novellae) issued in Greek dealt only with current legislation.

Meanwhile, in the seventh century, as the Empire was gradually losing Syria, Palestine, and Egypt in the east, North Africa in the south, and the northern parts of the Balkan peninsula in the north, it was becoming more and more “Greek” by language. For wide and general use it became necessary to create a lawbook in Greek which would reflect all the changes in living conditions since the time of Justinian the Great.

Fully realizing the need for such a code, Leo III entrusted the task of compiling it to a commission whose members he chose personally. The efforts of this body resulted in the publication of a code entitled the Ecloga, issued in the name of the “wise and pious emperors, Leo and Constantine.” There is some uncertainty as to the exact date of its publication. Some western scholars refer it to the end of Leo’s reign (739-40),[21]

although the Russian Byzantinist, V. G. Vasilievsky is inclined to ascribe it to a date nearer the beginning of Leo’s reign (about the year 726).[22] Recently there has even been some doubt as to whether the Ecloga may be referred to the time of Leo III and Constantine V at all.[23] At present most modern students of the question set the date of publication as March, 726.[24]

The title of the Ecloga (meaning “selection” or “extract”) is indicative of its sources. The title runs as follows: “An abridged selection of laws, arranged by Leo and Constantine, the wise and pious kings, from the Institutes, Digest, Code, Novels of the Great Justinian, and corrected with a view to greater humanity” (εις το

φιλανθρωποτερον), or, as others translate this, “with a view to improvement.”[25] The introduction states definitely that the decrees issued by the preceding emperors have been written in various books and that their meaning, difficult for some, is entirely incomprehensible for others, especially for those who do not live in the “God-guarded”

imperial city.[26] The “various books” refer to Greek translations and commentaries of Justinian’s lawbooks which were used in actual practice, frequently replacing the Latin originals. Very few people could understand these Greek translations and commentaries. The profusion of books and the variations and contradictions found in them produced considerable confusion in the civil law of the Byzantine Empire. Leo III saw clearly the existing state of affairs and made it his aim to relieve these conditions.

The principles of the Ecloga, laid down in its introduction, are imbued with ideas of justice and righteousness. They maintain that judges must “refrain from all human passions and make decisions of true Justice, developed by clear reasoning; they must not scorn the. needy, or leave unpunished the strong man guilty of offense … They must justly refrain from accepting gifts.” All the officials in judicial service must receive definite salaries from the imperial “pious treasury,” so that “they take nothing from any person who might come under their jurisdiction, in order that the prediction of the Prophet, ‘They sold the righteous for silver’ (Amos 2:6), should not come true and that we should not be visited by the wrath of God for becoming transgressors of his commandments.”[27]

The contents of the Ecloga, subdivided into eighteen titles, deal mainly with civil law, and only to a slight extent with criminal law. They treat of marriage, betrothal, dowry, testaments, and intestacies, of wardship, enfranchisement of slaves, witnesses, various liabilities connected with sale, purchase, rent, etc. Only one title contains a chapter of criminal law on punishments.

The Ecloga differed in many respects from the Justinian Code, and even

contradicted it at times by accepting the decisions of customary law and judicial practices which existed parallel with the official legislative works of Justinian. When compared with the latter, the Ecloga represents a considerable step forward in many respects. For instance, its marriage laws included the introduction of higher Christian conceptions. True, the chapter on penalties abounds in punishments which prescribe the maiming of the body, such as cutting off a hand, tongue, or nose, or blinding the convict. But this fact does not permit one to consider the Ecloga a barbarian law, because in most cases these punishments were intended to take the place of the penalty of death. In this sense the Isaurian emperors were right in claiming that their legal accomplishments were “greater in their humanity” than the work of the preceding emperors. Also the Ecloga prescribed equal punishment to the distinguished and the common, to the rich and the poor, while the Justinian law frequently prescribed different penalties without any real basis for the discrimination. The Ecloga is distinguished by an abundance of references to the Scriptures for confirmation of different juridical principles. “The spirit of Roman Law became transformed in the religious atmosphere of Christianity.”[28] Throughout the eighth and ninth centuries, until the time of the accession of the Macedonian dynasty (867), the Ecloga served as a manual for the teaching of law, taking the place of Justinian’s Institutes, and it was more than once subjected to revision; for instance, there was the Private Ecloga (Ecloga privata) and the Private Enlarged Ecloga (Ecloga privata aucta).[29] When, after the accession of Basil the Macedonian, a change took place in favor of Justinian law, the legislative deeds of the Isaurian emperors were officially declared to be nonsense (literally “silly talk”), which contradicted divine dogma and destroyed salutary laws.[30] Still, even the emperors of the Macedonian dynasty borrowed many chapters from the condemned lawbook for their own legislative works, and even in their times the Ecloga was again revised.

It is interesting to note that the Ecloga of Leo and Constanttne later formed part of the juridical collections of the orthodox church, especially in Russia. It is found in the printed Russian Kormchaia Kniga, i.e., The Book of Rules or Administrative Code, under the title, “The chapters of the wisest Tsar Leo and Constantine, the two faithful emperors.”[31] There are other traces of the influence of the Ecloga upon documents of ancient Slavonic legislation.

The Ecloga can hardly be considered “an extremely daring innovation,” as was claimed by the Greek Byzantinist, Paparrigopoulo, an ardent admirer of the Isaurian emperors. “At present, when the principles advanced by the compilers of the Ecloga are accepted by the civil legislation of the most progressive nations,” he declared, “the hour has finally come to accord esteem to the genius of the men who, a thousand years ago, fought for the inauguration of doctrines which have triumphed only in our own days.”[32] These are the comments of an enthusiastic Hellenic patriot, but nevertheless the modern world should recognize the high significance of the Ecloga in initiating a new period in the history of the Graeco-Roman or Byzantine law, a period which lasted until the accession of the Macedonian dynasty, when the Justinian law was restored to its former place but with many essential modifications. The Ecloga of Leo III was intended above all to meet the demands of the living realities of the period.

In connection with the Isaurian dynasty, and especially with the name of Leo III, scholars discuss three other legislative documents: the Rural Code or Farmer’s Law (νομος γεωργικος), the Military Code (νομος στρατιωτικος), and the Rhodian Sea Law (νομος ροδιων ναυτικος). Varying versions of these three documents usually appear in numerous surviving manuscripts after the Ecloga or after other juridical works, without indication of the names of the authors or of the time of first publication. Hence to attribute them to one time or another depends upon internal evidence, an evaluation of their contents and language, and comparison with other similar documents.

The Rural Code (νομος γεωργικος) has attracted the greatest attention among the three works. The greatest authority on Byzantine law, the German scholar Zachariä von Lingenthal, changed his mind about this. He began by thinking it the work of a private hand and he assigned it to the eighth or ninth century. It was compiled, he thought, partly from the legislation of Justinian and partly from local custom.[33] Later he was inclined to believe that the Rural Code was a product of the legislative activity of the Emperors Leo and Constantine, and that it was published either simultaneously with the Ecloga or soon after its appearance.[34] He agreed with the Russian scholars V.

G. Vasilievsky and Th. I. Uspensky who characterized this document as a collection of rural police regulations dealing with common offenses among people engaged in agriculture. It is concerned primarily with various kinds of thefts of lumber, field and orchard fruit, trespasses and oversights of herdsmen, harm done to animals, and harm done by cattle. The Russian scholar B. A. Pančenko, who made a special study of this document, called the Rural Code “a supplementary record to the customary law practiced among the peasants; it is dedicated to that law, so necessary for the peasants, which did not find its expression in legislation.”[35]

The work is not dated. Some scholars refer it to the epoch of Leo III. But it must be admitted that the problem is far from being definitely solved. According to Pančenko, “the need for such a law might have been felt even in the seventh century; the nature of the lawbook, barbarian and naively empirical, is closer in spirit to the time of the greatest decline of civilization than to the period of the compilation of the Ecloga.”[36] It has not yet been proved that the Rural Code was issued in the eighth century, and it is possible that its publication will be found to have taken place at an earlier period. Vernadsky and Ostrogorsky stated that the Rural Code was “elaborated”

under Justinian II, at the end of the seventh century.[37] The last word on the subject was said by the Russian historian E. Lipshitz in 1945. After reconsidering all previous opinions, she was inclined to accept the second half of the eighth century as the most probable date of the Rural Code; in other words she confirmed the old opinion of Zachariä von Lingenthal and Vasilievsky.[38]

The Rural Code has also attracted the attention of scholars because it contains no reference to the colonate or serfdom which predominated in the later Roman Empire, It does contain, however, indications of various new phenomena: personal peasant property, communal landownership, the abolition of compulsory service, and the introduction of freedom of movement. These are usually connected by scholars with the extensive Slavonic settlements in the Empire, which presumably imported conditions peculiar to their own life, chiefly the commune. The proposition argued in Pančenko’s book that the Rural Code does not refer to the commune is rightly denied in modern literature. Th. I. Uspensky, however, overestimated the importance of this law when he assigned to it the significance of a general measure for the whole Empire and claimed even that it “must serve as a point of departure in the history of the economic development of the East” with regard to the free peasant class and the class of small landowners.[39] This opinion might create the impression that serfdom was generally abolished in the seventh or eighth centuries, which was not really the case.[40] Diehl, who in his History of the Byzantine Empire considered the Rural Code the achievement of Leo III and his son, also went rather too far in stating that it “aimed to restrain the disquieting development of the great domains, to arrest the disappearance of the small free estates, and to insure to the peasants better living conditions.”[41]

The English scholar W. Ashburner edited, translated, and thoroughly

investigated the Rural Code, although he knew no Russian and was therefore unacquainted with the results of the Russian investigations. Ashburner was inclined to agree with Zachariä von Lingenthal that the Farmer’s Law, as it stands, forms part of the legislation of the iconoclasts and that it is to a great extent a compilation of existing customs. But at the same time Ashburner differed from Zachariä von Lingenthal in three important particulars: (1) the origin of the law; (2) the legal position of the agricultural class under the law; and (3) the economic character of the two forms of tenancy to which it refers. The relationship of the Rural Code to the Ecloga, he maintained, is not as close as Zachariä von Lingenthal would make it, and he believed that in the state of society described by the Rural Code the farmer could migrate freely from place to place. He agreed with the German scholar, however, that the “style of command” of this law suggests that it was not a product of private hands but a work of legislative authority.[42]

The theory of the exceptional influence of the Slavs upon the internal customs of the Byzantine Empire, given weight by the authority of Zachariä von Lingenthal and supported by outstanding Russian scholars in the field of Byzantine history, has come to occupy a firm place in historical literature. In addition to the general accounts of Slavonic settlements in the Empire, these scholars used as the main basis for their theory the fact that the conception of small free peasantry and the commune were foreign to Roman law; hence they must have been introduced into Byzantine life by some new element, in this case the Slavonic. V. N. Zlatarsky recently supported the theory of Slavonic influence on the Rural Code, which he referred to Leo III, and explained it by Leo’s Bulgarian policy. Leo saw that the Slavs under his power were very much tempted to pass over to the Bulgarians and conclude with them a Bulgaro-Slavonic alliance. Therefore he introduced into his law Slavonic manners and customs, hoping thereby to render conditions more attractive to the Slavs.[43] But a closer study of the codes of Theodosius and Justinian, of the Novels of the latter, and, in recent times, of the data of papyrology and the lives of saints, distinctly proves that there existed in the Roman Empire villages populated by free landholders, and that communal landownership was in existence in very early times. No general conclusion, therefore, can be made on the basis of the Rural Code; it may serve only as another evidence of the fact that in the Byzantine Empire the small free peasantry and the free rural commune existed parallel with serfdom. The theory of Slavonic influence must be discarded and attention should be turned to the study of the problem of small free peasantry and the village commune in the period of the early and later Roman Empire on the basis of both new and old materials which have not been sufficiently utilized.[44]

In recent times there have been several interesting attempts to compare the Rural Code with the texts of the Byzantine papyri,[45] but on the basis of the mere resemblance in phraseology, very striking at times, no definite conclusions should be made with regard to any borrowing. Such a resemblance, declared Mr. Ashburner, only proves what needs no proof; that lawyers of the same epoch use the same phrases.[46]

The Rural Code is of great interest from the point of view of Slavonic studies. An Old Russian translation of this code forms part of a compilation of the greatest value in contents and historical significance, bearing the title of The Lawbook by Means of Which All Orthodox Princes Have to Regulate All Affairs. The famous Russian canonist, A. S. Pavlov, produced a critical edition of this Russian version of the Rural Code. The latter is found also in the old Serbian juridical books.

In manuscripts of legal works the Sea Law and the Military Law are frequently appended to the Ecloga or other legal documents. Both laws are undated; but on the basis of certain deductions, which do not, however, finally solve the problem, they are referred by some scholars to the period of the Isaurian dynasty.

The Maritime Law (νομος ναυτικος, leges navales), or, as it is sometimes called in manuscripts, the Rhodian Sea Law, is a statute regulating commercial navigation. Some scholars suppose that this law was extracted from the second chapter of the fourteenth book of the Digest, which contains an almost exact borrowing from Greek law of the so-called “Rhodian Law of Jettison,” lex Rhodia de jactu, dealing with the division of losses between the owner of the ship and the owners of the cargo in cases where part of the cargo had to be thrown overboard in order to save the vessel. At present the dependence of the Rhodian Law on the Digest, as well as its connection with the Ecloga, which has been emphasized by Zachariä von Lingenthal, is not accepted by scholars.[47]

The form in which this law has come down to us was compiled from materials of very different epochs and natures; most of it must have been derived from local customs. Ashburner said that Part III of the Sea Law was evidently intended to be a part of Book LIII of the Basilics,[48] and inferred that a second edition of the Sea Law was made either by or under the direction of the men who compiled the Basilics. The texts which exist today represent in substance the second edition.[49]

In style the Maritime Law is of a rather official character, while in contents it differs greatly from the Digest of Justinian because it apparently reflects some influence of later times. Thus, for example, this law fixes the liability on the part of the shipowner, the lessee merchant, and the passengers for the safety of the ship and the cargo. In case of storm or piracy they were all expected to make good the losses. This provision was intended to serve as a sort of insurance, and, together with other peculiar rulings, resulted from the fact that from the time of Heraclius in the seventh century maritime commerce and navigation in general were greatly endangered by the sea raids of Arabian and Slavic pirates. Piracy became such a habitual phenomenon that the shipowners and merchants could continue their commercial enterprises only by assuming a common risk.

The time of the compilation of the Sea Law can be determined only

approximately. It was probably put together unofficially between 600 and 800 A.D. In any case, there is no reason for attributing a common origin to the three books, the Sea Law, the Rural Code, and the Soldier’s Law.[50]

In spite of the return of the Macedonian dynasty to the standards of the Justinian law, the Sea Law persisted in actual practice and influenced some of the Byzantine jurists of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries. This survival indicates that Byzantine trade navigation did not recover after the seventh and eighth centuries. The Italians, who later monopolized the trade of the Mediterranean Sea, had their own sea statutes. With the decline of Byzantine sea commerce the Maritime Law became obsolete, so that there are no references to it in the juridical documents of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.[51]

The Military Law or Soldier’s Law (νομος στρατιωτικος, leges militares) is an extract from the Greek paraphrases of Justinian’s Digest and Code, the Ecloga, and several other sources which were added to the law in later times. It consists mainly of an enumeration of penalties inflicted upon men in military service for such offenses as mutiny, disobedience, flight, adultery. The punishments provided are extremely harsh.

If the opinion of scholars that it belongs to the time of the Isaurian dynasty[52] were correct, it would give an excellent indication of the strictness of the military discipline introduced by Leo III. But unfortunately the scanty information does not support a positive statement that the law belongs to this period. In fact, all that has been said on the Rural Code, the Sea Law, and the Military Law must be summed up by stating that not one of these three small codes can be regarded with certainty as the work of the Isaurian emperors.[53]

The themes. — The majority of scholars, beginning with Finlay, refer the reorganization and completion of the provincial theme system which originated in the seventh century, to the eighth century, sometimes to the time of Leo III in particular. Finlay wrote: “A new geographical arrangement into themes … was reorganized by Leo and endured as long as the Byzantine government.”[54] Gelzer was particularly categorical in this regard. “Leo definitely removed the civil officials and transferred the civil power in the provinces into the hands of military representatives.”[55] Th. I. Uspensky wrote:

“Only in the time of Leo the Isaurian does an abrupt turn take place in the direction of strengthening the power of the theme strategus at the expense of the civil administration of the province.”[56] But the fact still remains that no information exists on Leo’s achievements in the field of provincial organization. There exists a list of themes with some references to their organization, which belongs to the Arabian geographer of the first half of the ninth century, Ibn-Khurdadhbah (Ibn-Khordadhbeh).[57] Upon comparing his data with the data on the themes of the seventh century, scholars have reached some conclusions with regard to certain changes in the eighth century in the time of the Isaurian dynasty. It appears that in Asia Minor, in addition to the three themes of the seventh century, two new themes were created in the eighth century, probably in the time of Leo III: (1) the Thracesian theme in the western part of Asia Minor, formed from the western districts of the vast theme of the Anatolics and named after the European garrisons from Thrace stationed there, and (2) the theme of the Bucellarians in the eastern part of the vast Opsician theme (Opsikion), which derived its name from the Bucellarians, i.e., some Roman and foreign troops employed by the Empire or by private individuals. Constantine Porphyrogenitus said that the Bucellarians followed the army, supplying it with provisions.[58] Thus toward the beginning of the ninth century Asia Minor had five themes, to which the sources pertaining to this period refer as the “five eastern themes” (for instance, under the year 803).[59] On European territory there were apparently only four provinces by the end of the eighth century: Thrace, Macedonia, Hellas, and Sicily. But if the question of the number of themes in Asia Minor in the early part of the ninth century may be considered settled, the problems of the complete removal of civil authorities and the transfer of their functions to the military governors still remain uncertain. The decisive role of Leo III in the theme organization cannot be proved; it is merely a hypothesis.[60]

The completion and extension of the system of themes under the Isaurian

dynasty was indissolubly connected with the external and internal dangers which threatened the Empire. The formation of the new themes by dividing the immense territories of the earlier themes was dictated by political considerations. By his own experience Leo knew very well how dangerous it was to leave too large a territory in the hands of an all-powerful military governor, who could revolt and lay claim to the imperial title. Thus the external danger required the strengthening of the centralized military power, especially in the provinces menaced by the enemies of the Empire —

the Arabs, Slavs, and Bulgarians; and on the other hand, the internal danger from the too-powerful military governors (strategi), whose loose dependence on the central power often resembles vassal relations, made it imperative to reduce the extensive stretches of territory under their rule.

Desiring to increase and regulate the financial income of the Empire,

indispensable for his varied undertakings, Leo III raised the poll tax in Sicily and Calabria by one-third of its original amount; in order to carry out this measure effectively he ordered that a record be kept of the birth of all male children. The chronicler, who is hostile to the iconoclasts, compared this order with the treatment accorded by the Egyptian Pharaoh to the Jews.[61] Near the end of his reign Leo III levied upon all the subjects of the Empire a tax for the repair of the walls of Constantinople which had been destroyed by frequent and violent earthquakes. That this task was completed in his time is evidenced by the fact that many inscriptions on the towers of the inner walls of Constantinople bear the names of Leo and his son and coemperor, Constantine.[62]

Religious controversies and the first period of Iconoclasm.

The history of the Iconoclastic[63] movement falls into two periods. The first lasted from 726 to 780 and ended officially with the Seventh Ecumenical Council; the second lasted from 813 to 843 and ended in the so-called “restoration of orthodoxy.”

The study of the iconoclastic epoch affords great difficulties because of the present condition of sources. All the works of the iconoclasts, the imperial decrees, the acts of the iconoclastic councils of the year 753-54 and 815, the theological treatises of the iconbreakers, etc., were destroyed by the triumphant image-worshipers. Some survivals of iconoclastic literature are known to us only by fragments introduced into the works of the image-worshipers for the purpose of refuting them. Thus, the decree of the iconoclastic council of 753-54 has been preserved in the acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council, though perhaps not in its complete original form. The decree of the council of 815 has been discovered in one of the treatises of Patriarch Nicephorus, while numerous fragments of iconoclastic literature are found in the polemic and theological treatises of the antagonists of the movement. Particularly interesting in this respect are the three famous Treatises Against Those Who Depreciate the Holy Images of the renowned theologian and hymn-writer, John Damascene (of Damascus), a contemporary of the first two iconoclastic emperors. In order to disseminate their ideas, the iconoclasts sometimes resorted to the writing of spurious works. The surviving sources on iconoclasm, then, are biased by hostility to the movement; hence in later times scholars have differed greatly in their estimate of the iconoclastic period.

Scholars have turned their attention first of all to the question of the causes for the movement against images, which lasted with some intervals for over one hundred years with very serious consequences to the Empire. Some students of this period have seen in the policy of the iconoclastic emperors religious causes, while others have believed that the causes were chiefly political. It was thought that Leo III determined to destroy images because he hoped that this measure would remove one of the chief obstacles to a closer relationship of the Christians with the Jews and Muhammedans, who disapproved of icons. He is credited with believing that a closer religious kinship with these two denominations would facilitate their subjugation to the Empire. A very thorough study of the iconoclastic period has been made by the well-known Greek historian, Paparrigopoulo, whose biased views with regard to the Ecloga have been pointed out. According to him it is incorrect to apply the term “iconoclastic” to this epoch because it does not fully define the period. His belief is that parallel with the religious reform which condemned images, prohibited relics, reduced the number of monasteries, and yet left the basic dogmas of the Christian faith intact, there was also a social and political reform. It was the intention of the iconoclastic emperors to take public education out of the hands of the clergy. These rulers acted, not from personal or dynastic whims, but on the basis of mature and extended deliberations, with a clear understanding of the needs of society and the demands of public opinion. They were supported by the most enlightened element of society, by the majority of the high clergy, and by the army. The final failure of the iconoclastic reforms should be attributed to the fact that there were still many people devotedly attached to the old faith, and hence extremely antagonistic to the new reforms. This group included chiefly the common people, women, and the enormous number of monks. Leo III was apparently unable to educate the people in the new spirit.[64] Such, in brief, are the views of Paparrigopoulo with regard to this epoch; but there is no doubt that he exaggerated when he regarded the reform activities of the emperors of the eighth century as a remarkable attempt at a social, political, and religious revolution. Still, he was the first scholar to point out the complexity and importance of the iconoclastic period, thus inducing others to pay closer attention to it. There were some who believed that the iconoclastic policy of the emperors was prompted by both religious and political considerations, with a decided predominance of the latter; they maintained that Leo III, desirous of being the sole autocratic ruler in all aspects of life, hoped, by prohibiting the worship of images, to liberate the people from the strong influence of the church, which used image-worship as one of its strongest tools in securing the allegiance of the laity, Leo’s final ideal was to attain unlimited power over a religiously united people. The religious life of the Empire was to be regulated by the iconoclastic policy of the emperors, which was intended to aid these rulers in the realization of their political ideals “surrounded by the halo of reformatory zeal.”[65] In more recent times some scholars (the Frenchman Lombard, for instance) began to view iconoclasm as a purely religious reform which aimed to arrest “the progress of the revival of paganism” in the form of excessive image-worship, and “restore Christianity to its original purity.” Lombard believed that this religious reform developed parallel with the political changes, but had a history of its own.[66] The French Byzantine scholar, Bréhier, called particular attention to the fact that iconoclasm involves two distinctly different questions; (1) the habitually discussed question of image-worship itself, and (2) the problem of the legality of religious art, i.e., the question as to whether or not it was permissible to resort to art as a means of depicting the supernatural world, and of representing the Saints, the Holy Virgin, and Jesus Christ. In other words, Bréhier brought to the fore the question of the influence of iconoclasm upon Byzantine art.[67] Finally, C. N. Uspensky shifted the emphasis from iconoclasm to the policy of the government against the rise and growth of monasterial landownerslnp. He wrote: Leo’s administrative measures were basically and essentially directed from the very beginning against the monasteries, which toward the eighth century came to occupy a very unnatural position in the empire. In its fundamental aims the policy of Leo III was not based upon any religious considerations, but the persecuted monastic groups, the defenders of monastic feudalism, found it to their advantage to transfer the dispute to theological grounds in order to be able to claim that the activity of the emperors was atheistic and heretical, thus discrediting the movement: and undermining the confidence of the masses in their emperor. The true nature of the movement was thus skillfully disguised and can be rediscovered only with very great effort.[68]

In view of these varied opinions, it is evident that the iconoclastic movement was an extremely complex phenomenon; and unfortunately the condition of the sources still prevents its clarification.[69]

In the first place, all the iconoclastic emperors were of eastern origin: Leo III and his dynasty were Isaurians, or perhaps Syrians; the restorers of iconoclasm in the ninth century were Leo V, an Armenian, and Michael II and his son Theophilus, born in the Phrygian province of central Asia Minor. The restorers of image-worship were both women, Irene and Theodora, Irene of Greek descent and Theodora from Paphlagonia in Asia Minor, a province on the coast of the Black Sea bordering Bithynia and at no great distance from, the capital. Neither of them, that is, came from the central parts of the peninsula. The place of origin of the iconoclastic rulers cannot be viewed as accidental.

The fact of their eastern birth may aid in reaching a clearer understanding of both their part in the movement and the meaning of the movement itself.

The opposition to image-worship in the eighth and ninth centuries was not an entirely new and unexpected movement. It had already gone through a long period of evolution. Christian art in representing the human figure in mosaics, fresco, sculpture, or carving had for a long time unsettled the minds of many deeply religious people by its resemblance to the practices of forsaken paganism. At the very beginning of the fourth century the Council of Elvira (in Spain) had ruled “that there must be no pictures (picturas) in the church, that the walls should have no images of that which is revered and worshipped” (ne quod colitur et adoratur in parietibus depingatur).[70]

In the fourth century, when Christianity received legal sanction and later became the state religion, the churches were beginning to be embellished with images.

In the fourth and fifth centuries image-worship rose and developed in the Christian church. Confusion with regard to this practice persisted. The church historian of the fourth century, Eusebius of Caesarea, referred to the worship of images of Jesus Christ and the apostles Peter and Paul as “a habit of the Gentiles.”[71] Also in the fourth century Epiphanius of Cyprus related in a letter that he had torn in pieces a church curtain (velum) with the image of Jesus Christ or one of the saints, because it “defiled the church.”[72] In the fifth century a Syrian bishop, before he was ordained to his high post, denounced icons. In the sixth century a serious upheaval in Antioch was directed against the worship of pictures, and in Edessa the rioting soldiers flung stones at the miraculous image of Christ. There were instances of attacks upon images and of the destruction of some icons in the seventh century. In western Europe the bishop of Massilia (Marseilles) at the end of the sixth century ordered that all icons be removed from the churches and destroyed. Pope Gregory I the Great wrote to him praising him for his zeal in advocating that nothing created by human hands should serve as an object of adoration (nequid manufactum adorari posset), but at the same time reprimanding him for the destruction of the images since thereby he had taken away all chance for historical education from people who are ignorant of letters but “could at least read by looking at the walls what they cannot read in books.”[73] In another letter to the same bishop the pope wrote: “In that thou forbadest them to be adored, we altogether praise thee; but we blame thee for having broken them … To adore a picture is one thing (picturam adorare), but to learn through the story of the picture what is to be adored, is another.”[74] In the opinion of Gregory the Great and many others, then, images served as a means of popular education.

The iconoclastic tendencies of the eastern provinces were somewhat influenced by the Jews, whose faith forbade image-worship, and who at times attacked any form of such worship with great violence. A similar influence began to be exerted from the second half of the seventh century by the Muslims, who, guided by the words of the Koran, “Images are an abomination of the work of Satan” (V. 92), viewed icon-worship as a form of idolatry. It is frequently stated by historians that the Arabian caliph Yazid II issued a decree in his state three years before Leo’s edict by which he prescribed the destruction of images in the churches of his Christian subjects; the authenticity of this story, without much basis for the doubt, is sometimes questioned.[75] In any event, Muhammedan influence upon the eastern provinces should be taken into consideration in any study of the anti-image movement. One chronicler refers to Emperor Leo as “the Saracen-minded” (σαρακηνοφρων),[76] although in reality there is very little basis for claiming that he was directly influenced by Islam. Finally, one of the widely known Eastern medieval sects, the Paulicians, who lived in the east-central part of Asia Minor, was also strongly opposed to image-worship. Briefly, in the eastern Byzantine provinces of Asia Minor there had grown up by the time of Leo III a strong iconoclastic movement. One of the Russian church historians, A. P. Lebedev, wrote: “It may be positively asserted that the number of iconoclasts before the iconoclastic period [in the eighth century] was large, and that they were a force of which the church itself had ample reason to be afraid.”[77] One of the main centers of the iconoclastic movement was Phrygia, one of the central provinces in Asia Minor.

Meanwhile image-worship had spread very widely and grown very strong.

Images of Jesus Christ, the Holy Virgin, and various saints, as well as pictures of scenes from the Old and New Testaments, were used in profusion for decorating Christian temples. The images placed in various churches of this period were either mosaics, frescoes, or carvings in ivory, wood, or bronze — in other words, they were both painted images and statue images, while many small pictures were reproduced in illuminated manuscripts (miniatures). Particularly great was the reverence for the so-called “icons not made by human hands,” which, in the belief of the faithful, were supposed to possess miraculous powers. Images found their way into family life, for icons were sometimes chosen as godfathers for children, and embroidered images of saints decorated the parade dress of the Byzantine aristocracy. The toga of one of the senators bore embroidered pictures representing the history of the entire life of Jesus Christ.

The image-worshipers sometimes took the adoration of pictures too literally, adoring not the person or the idea represented by the image, but the image itself or the material of which it was made. This fact was a great temptation for many of the faithful, to whom this adoration of inanimate objects appealed because of its kinship with pagan practices. “In the capital,” according to N. P. Kondakov, “there was at the same time a characteristic increase in the number of monasteries, monastic communes, and convents of all kinds which multiplied very rapidly and reached incredible proportions by the end of the eighth century (perhaps, more correctly, toward the eighth century).”[78] In the opinion of I. D. Andreev, the number of Byzantine monks in the iconoclastic period may be estimated without any exaggeration at 100,000.

“Remembering,” said this scholar, “that in Russia of today [this is written in 1907], with its 120,000,000 population spread over a vast territory, there are only about 40,000

monks and nuns, it is easy to imagine how dense must have been the net of monasteries covering the comparatively small territory of the Byzantine Empire.”[79]

And while, on the one hand, the worship of ordinary and miraculous icons and relics confused many people who had grown up under the prevailing influences of the period, the excessive development of monachism and the rapid growth of monasteries, on the other hand, clashed with the secular interests of the Byzantine state. In view of the fact that large numbers of healthy young men embraced the spiritual life, the Empire was losing necessary forces from its army, agriculture, and industry.

Monachism and the monasteries frequently served as a refuge for those who wished to escape governmental duties; hence many of the monks were not men who had been prompted to retire from worldly affairs by a sincere desire to follow higher ideals. Two aspects in the ecclesiastical life of the eighth century should be distinguished — the religious and the secular.

The iconoclastic emperors, born in the East, were well acquainted with the religious views prevalent in the eastern provinces; they grew up with these views and were closely identified with them. Upon ascending the Byzantine throne they brought their views to the capital and made them the basis of their church policy. These emperors were neither infidels nor rationalists, as used to be maintained. On the contrary, they were men of a sincere and convinced faith, and desired to purge religion of those errors which permeated it and diverted it from its true original course.[80]

From their point of view, image-worship and the adoration of relics were both survivals of paganism which had to be abolished at all costs in order to restore the Christian faith to its original pure form. “I am emperor and priest,” wrote Leo III to Pope Gregory II.[81] With this claim as a point of departure, Leo III considered it his legal right to make his own religious views compulsory for all his subjects. This attitude cannot be viewed as an innovation. It was the accepted caesaropapistic view of the Byzantine emperors particularly prevalent in the time of Justinian the Great, who had also considered himself the sole authority in spiritual as well as in temporal matters. Leo III, too, was a convinced representative of the idea of Caesaropapism.

The first nine years of Leo’s reign, devoted to repelling external enemies and to establishing the security of the throne, were not marked by any measures with regard to images. The ecclesiastical activity of the Emperor during this period was expressed only in his demand that the Jews and the eastern sect of Montanists be baptized.

Only in the tenth year of his rule, i.e., in the year 726, did the Emperor, according to the chronicler Theophanes, “begin to speak of the destruction of the holy and all-honoured icons.”[82] The majority of contemporary scholars believe that the first edict against images was promulgated in 726 or perhaps 725. Unfortunately the text of this decree is unknown.[83] Soon after the proclamation of the edict Leo ordered the destruction of the venerated statue of Christ situated above one of the doors of the Chalke, as the magnificent entrance to the imperial palace was called. The destruction of this icon caused a riot, in which the main participants were women. The imperial officer delegated to destroy the image was killed, but his murder was avenged by the Emperor’s severe punishment of the defenders of the statue. These victims were the first martyrs of icon worship.

Leo’s hostility toward image worship aroused very strong opposition. The patriarch of Constantinople, Germanus, and Gregory II, the pope of Rome, were strongly opposed to the policy of the Emperor. In Greece and on the islands of the Aegean Sea a revolt broke out in defense of images. Although this was quickly suppressed by Leo’s army, this strong reaction on the part of the population made it impossible for him to undertake further decisive measures.

Finally, in the year 730, the Emperor convoked a sort of council where another edict against sacred images was promulgated. It is highly probable that this council did not produce a new edict, but merely restored the decree of the year 725 or 726.[84]

Germanus, who refused to sign this decree, was deposed and forced to retire to his estate, where he spent the last years of his life peacefully. The patriarchal chair was filled by Anastasius, who willingly signed the edict. Thus, the decree against images was now issued not only on behalf of the Emperor, but also in the name of the church, since it was sanctioned by the signature of the patriarch. This authority was of great value to Leo.

Concerning the period which followed the proclamation of this edict, namely, the last eleven years of Leo’s reign, sources are silent with regard to the persecution of images. Apparently there were no instances of ill treatment. In any event, systematic persecution of images in the reign of Leo III is out of the question. At most, there were only a few isolated instances of open image destruction. According to one scholar, “In the time of Leo III there was rather a preparation to persecute images and their worshipers than actual persecution.”[85]

The assertion that the image-breaking movement of the eighth century began, not by the destruction of images, but by hanging them higher up, so as to remove them from the adoration of the faithful, must be disregarded, for the majority of images in Byzantine churches were painted frescoes or mosaics which could not be removed or transferred from the church walls.

Leo’s hostile policy against images has found some reflection in the three famous treatises “Against Those Who Depreciate the Icons,” by John Damascene, who lived in the time of the first iconoclastic emperor within the boundaries of the Arabian caliphate. Two of these treatises were written, in all likelihood, in the time of Leo. The date of the third one cannot be determined with any degree of accuracy.

Pope Gregory II, who opposed Leo’s policy of image-breaking, was succeeded by Pope Gregory III, who convoked a council in Rome and excluded the iconoclasts from the church. Following this step, middle Italy detached itself from the Byzantine Empire and became completely controlled by papal and western European interests. Southern Italy still remained under Byzantine sway.

Quite different was the picture in the reign of Constantine V Copronymus (741-75), the successor of Leo III. Educated by his father, Constantine followed a very determined iconoclastic policy and in the last years of his reign, initiated the persecution of monasteries and monks. No other iconoclastic ruler has been subjected to so much slander in the writings of the iconodules as this “many-headed dragon,”

“cruel persecutor of the monastic order,” this “Ahab and Herod.” It is very difficult, therefore, to form an unprejudiced opinion of Constantine. It is with some exaggeration that E. Stein called him the boldest and freest thinker of all eastern Roman history.[86]

The Council of 754 and its aftermath.

At the time of Constantine’s accession the European provinces were still devoted to icon worship, while those of Asia Minor had among their population a large number of iconoclasts. Constantine spent the first two years of his reign in constant struggle with his brother-in-law Artavasdus, who was leading a rebellion in defense of images.

Artavasdus succeeded in forcing Constantine to leave the capital, and was proclaimed emperor. During his year of rule over the Empire he restored image worship.

Constantine succeeded, however, in deposing Artavasdus and he reclaimed the throne and severely punished the instigators of the revolt. Yet the attempt of Artavasdus demonstrated to Constantine that icon worship might be restored without great difficulties, and it forced him to take more decisive steps to strengthen the validity of iconoclastic views in the conscience of the masses.

With this aim in view Constantine decided to convoke a council which would work out the foundations of an iconoclastic policy, sanction its validity, and thus create among the people the conviction that the Emperor’s measures were just. This council, attended by more than three hundred bishops, convened in the palace of Hieria on the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus facing Constantinople. It gathered in the year 754.[87]

The members of the council did not include any patriarchs, for the see of Constantinople was vacant at that time, while Antioch, Jerusalem, and Alexandria refused to participate, and the papal legates also failed to appear at the sessions. In later times these facts were used as a sufficient basis by opponents of this council for claiming that its decisions were invalid. Several months after the opening of the sessions the council was transferred to Constantinople, where the election of a new patriarch had meanwhile taken place.

The decree of the council of 754, which has been preserved in the acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council (perhaps in parts and in a somewhat modified form), definitely condemned image worship by proclaiming the following:

Supported by the Holy Scriptures and the Fathers, we declare unanimously in the name of the Holy Trinity, that there shall be rejected and removed and cursed out of the Christian Church every likeness which is made out of any material whatever by the evil art of painters. Whoever in the future dares to make such a thing or to venerate it, or set it up in a church or in a private house, or possesses it in secret, shall, if bishop, priest or deacon, be deposed, if monk or layman, anathematised and become liable to be tried by the secular laws as an adversary of God and an enemy of the doctrines handed down by the Fathers.

Besides the general significance of this proclamation for image-worship, this decree is notable also for prescribing that persons guilty of icon worship should be tried by imperial laws, thus placing the iconodules under the jurisdiction of temporal power.

This fact was later used by the members of the Seventh Ecumenical Council as an explanation of the extraordinary harshness manifested by some emperors with regard to the church and to the monks. Anathema was proclaimed for any person who

“ventures to represent the divine image of the Logos after the incarnation with material colours … and the forms of the saints in lifeless pictures with material colours which are of no value, for this notion is erroneous and introduced by the devil.” The decree ends with the following: “To New Constantine and the most pious, many years! .

. . To the most pious and orthodox [empress] many years! You have established the dogmas of the Holy Six Ecumenical Councils. You have destroyed all idolatry…”

Anathema was proclaimed against the Patriarch Germanus, the “worshiper of wood,”

and Mansur, i.e., John Damascene, “inclined to Muhammedanism, the enemy of the Empire, the teacher of impiety, the perverter of the Scriptures.”[88]

The unanimous decree of the council made a very strong impression upon the people. “Many who had been troubled by a vague impression of the error of the iconoclasts,” said Professor Andreev, “could now grow calm; many who had formerly wavered between the two movements could now, on the basis of the convincing argument of the council decisions, form decisive iconoclastic views,”[89] The mass of the people were required to give oath that they would forsake the worship of images.

The destruction of images, after the council, became ruthlessly severe. Images were broken, burned, painted over, and exposed to many insults. Particularly violent was the persecution of the cultus of the Blessed Virgin.[90] Many image-worshipers were executed, tortured, or imprisoned, and lost their property. Many were banished from the country and exiled to distant provinces. Pictures of trees, birds, animals, or scenes of hunting and racing replaced the sacred images in the churches. According to the Life of Stephen the Younger, the church of the Holy Virgin at Blachernae in Constantinople, deprived of its former magnificence and covered with new paintings, was transformed into a “fruit store and aviary.”[91] In this destruction of painted icons (mosaics and frescoes) and statues many valuable monuments of art have perished. The number of illuminated manuscripts destroyed was also very large.

The destruction of images was accompanied also by the destruction of relics.

Time has preserved a satire of the iconoclastic period on the excessive adoration of relics in which the author speaks of ten hands of the martyr Procopius, of fifteen jaws of Theodore, of four heads of George, etc.[92]

Constantine V displayed extreme intolerance toward the monasteries and

initiated a crusade against the monks, those “idolaters and lovers of darkness.”[93] His struggle with monachism was so intense that some scholars find the question of a more accurate definition of the reforms of this period somewhat debatable, claiming that it is difficult to determine whether it was a struggle against images or a fight directed against the monks; C. N. Uspensky stated definitely that “historians and theologians have purposely distorted the reality of facts by advancing the ‘iconomachia,’ rather than the ‘monacho-machia,’ of the period.”[94] The persecutions of monks expressed itself in many severe measures. They were forced to put on secular dress, and some were compelled to marry by force or threats. In one instance they were forced to march in file through the hippodrome, each holding a woman by the hand, amid the sneers and insults of the crowd of spectators. The chronicler Theophanes relates that a governor in Asia Minor assembled the monks and nuns of his province at Ephesus and said to them, “Let each who wishes to obey the Emperor and us put on the white dress and take a wife immediately; those who do not do so shall be blinded and exiled to Cyprus,” and he was congratulated by Constantine V, who wrote: “I have found in you a man after my own heart who carries out all my wishes.”[95] Cyprus apparently was one of the emperor’s places of exile for recalcitrant monks. It is recorded that five monks managed to escape from there, reached the territory of the caliphate, and were brought to Bagdad.[96] Monasteries were taken away from the monks and transformed into barracks and arsenals. Monasterial estates were confiscated. Laymen were forbidden to take refuge in the cowl. All these regulations led to a wide migration of monks to districts unaffected by the Emperor’s iconoclastic persecutions. According to some scholars, in the time of Leo and Constantine Italy alone received about 50,000 of these refugees.[97] This event was of enormous significance for the fate of medieval southern Italy, for it upheld there the predominance of the Greek nationality and the Orthodox church. But even southern Italy was apparently not altogether free from iconoclastic troubles. At least there is a very interesting indication that in the ninth century A.D. St.

Gregory the Decapolite fell into the hands of an iconoclastic bishop of the south-Italian city of Hydrus (now Otranto).[98] Many monks migrated also to the northern shores of the Euxine (the Black Sea), and to the coast of Syria and Palestine. Among the martyrs who suffered under Constantine V, Stephen the Younger is particularly famous.

During the reign of Leo IV the Khazar (775-80) the internal life of the Empire was calmer than under his father Constantine V. Although Leo, too, was an adherent of iconoclasm, he felt no acute enmity towards the monks, who once more regained a certain amount of influence. In his brief reign he did not manifest himself as a fanatical iconoclast. It is very likely that he was influenced to some extent by his young wife, Irene, an Athenian who was famous for her devotion to image-worship and to whom all image-worshipers of the empire turned hopeful faces. “His moderate attitude in the icon controversy,” Ostrogorsky explained, “was an appropriate transition from the tactics of Constantine V to the restoration of the holy images under the Empress Irene.”[99] With Leo’s death in 780 ended the first period of iconoclasm. Because his son, Constantine VI, was a minor, the rule of the Empire was entrusted to Irene, who was determined to restore image worship.

In spite of her definite leanings toward image-worship, Irene did not undertake any decisive measures in the direction of its official restoration during the first three years of her reign. This postponement was due to the fact that all the forces of the Empire had to be directed to the internal struggle with the pretender to the throne and to the external fight with the Slavs who lived in Greece. Furthermore, the restoration of icon-worship had to be approached with great caution, because the major part of the army was favorably inclined to iconoclasm, and the canons of the iconoclastic council of 754 declared by Constantine as imperial laws continued to exert a certain amount of influence upon many people in the Byzantine Empire. It is quite likely, however, that many members of the higher clergy accepted the decrees of the iconoclastic council by compulsion rather than by conviction; hence they constituted, according to Professor Andreev, “an element which yielded readily to the reformatory operations of the iconoclastic emperors, but which would not form any real opposition to the measures of an opposite tendency.”[100]

In the fourth year of Irene’s reign the see of Constantinople was given to Tarasius, who declared that it was necessary to convoke an ecumenical council for the purpose of restoring image-worship. Pope Hadrian I was invited to attend and to send his legates. The council gathered in the year 786 in the Temple of the Holy Apostles. But the troops of the capital, hostile to icon-worship, rushed into the temple with drawn swords and forced the assembly to disperse. It seemed that the iconoclastic party had triumphed once more, but it was only for a brief period. Irene skillfully replaced the disobedient troops by new soldiers, more loyal to her ideals.

In the following year (787) the council convened in the Bithynian city of Nicaea, where the First Ecumenical Council had been held. Seven meetings of the council, from which the Emperor and Empress were absent, took place in Nicaea. The eighth and last assembly was held in the imperial palace at Constantinople. The number of bishops who came to this council exceeded three hundred. This was the seventh and last ecumenical council in the history of the eastern church.

Image-worship was restored by the decree of this council. The adoration of holy images was confirmed, and those who disagreed with the ruling of the council were anathematized. Excommunication was also proclaimed for those “who called the holy images idols and who asserted that the Christians resort to icons as if the latter were Gods, or that the Catholic church had ever accepted idols.” The bishops of the council acclaimed “a New Constantine and a New Helen.”[101] It was ruled that relics had to be placed in all of the restored temples from which these necessary attributes of an orthodox church were absent. The transformation of monasteries into common dwellings was severely condemned, and orders were issued to restore all the monasteries abolished and secularized by the iconoclasts. The council devoted much of its attention to raising the morality of the clergy by condemning the buying of church offices for money (simony), etc. It also prohibited the existence of mixed monasteries (for both sexes).

The great importance of the Nicene Council does not lie only in the restoration of image-worship. This council created for the iconodules the organization which they had lacked in their early struggle with their opponents; it collected all theological arguments in favor of images, which could later be used by the iconodules in their disputes with the iconoclasts. In brief, the council provided for the iconodule party a weapon which facilitated all future struggles with their antagonists when the second period of the iconoclastic movement set in.

The so-called “iconoclastic” activities of the emperors of the eighth century were only one, and perhaps not the most important, aspect of that period. For most of the data on this period comes from the later one-sided literary tradition of the triumphant icon-worshiping party which destroyed practically all the iconoclastic documents. But owing to some occasional and scattered information which has survived one may conclude that the main energy of Leo III and Constantine V was directed toward the secularization of large monasterial landed property and the limitation of the enormous number of monks, that is to say, against the elements which, by escaping state control and by functioning with almost complete independence, were undermining the vital forces and unity of the Empire.

Charles the Great and his significance for the Byzantine Empire.

“The coronation of Charles is not only the central event of the Middle Ages; it is also one of those very few events of which, taking them singly, it may be said that if they had not happened, the history of the world would have been different.”[102] At present this event is important primarily because it concerned the Byzantine Empire.

In the conception of the medieval man the Roman Empire was a single empire, so that in previous centuries two or more emperors were viewed as two rulers governing one state. It is wrong to speak of the fall of the Western Roman Empire in the year 476.

The idea of a single empire lay behind the militaristic policy of Justinian in the sixth century, and this idea was still alive in the year 800, when the famous imperial coronation of Charles the Great occurred in Rome.

While theoretically the conception of a single empire still prevailed in the ideology of the Middle Ages, in actual reality this conception was obsolete. The eastern or Byzantine Graeco-Slavic world of the late eighth century and the western Romano-Germanic world of the same period were, in language, in ethnographical composition, and in cultural problems, two distinctly different, separate worlds. The idea of a single empire was out of date and is a historical anachronism from the modern point of view, though not in the opinion of the Middle Ages.

Iconoclasm contributed its share toward preparing the event of 800. The papacy, which energetically protested against the iconoclastic measures of the Byzantine emperors and excommunicated the iconoclasts, turned to the West in the hope of finding friendship and defense in the Frankish kingdom among the rising major-domos (mayors of the palace), and later the kings of the Carolingian house. At the end of the eighth century the Frankish throne was occupied by the most famous representative of this house, Charles the Great or Charlemagne. Alcuin, a scholar and teacher at his court, wrote him a famous letter in June 799:

Hitherto there have been three exalted persons in the world. (The first is) the Apostolic sublimity who rules in his stead the see of the blessed Peter, the chief of the Apostles …

Another is the imperial dignitary and secular possessor of the second Rome; but the report of how wickedly the ruler of that empire was dethroned, not through aliens but through his own citizens,[103] spreads everywhere, The third is (the possessor of) the royal dignity which the will of our Lord Jesus Christ has bestowed upon you as a ruler of the Christian people, more excellent in power than the other dignitaries, more famous in wisdom, more sublime in the dignity of the kingdom. You are the avenger of crimes, the guide of those who have gone astray, the consoler of those who are in distress; it is given to you to exalt the good.[104]

The mutual interests of the pope and the king of the Franks which eventually led to the coronation of the latter is a complex question, variously regarded in historical literature. The event itself is well known. On Christmas Day of the year 800, during the solemn service in the Church of St. Peter, Pope Leo III placed the imperial crown upon the head of the kneeling Charles. The people present in the church proclaimed “To Charles, the most pious Augustus crowned by God, to the Great and Peace-giving, many years and victory!”

Scholars have expressed differing opinions on the significance of Charles’

acceptance of the imperial rank. Some have believed that the title of emperor gave him no new rights and that in reality he still remained, as before, only “a king of the Franks and Lombards, and a Roman patrician;”[105] that is, that in receiving the crown Charles assumed only a new name. Others have thought that through the coronation of Charles in the year 800 a new western empire was created which was entirely independent of the existence of the Eastern or Byzantine Empire. To regard the event of 800 in either of these ways would mean to introduce into this analysis the opinions of later times. At the end of the eighth century there was not, and could not be, any question of a

“titulary” emperor, or of the formation of a separate western empire. The coronation of Charles must be analyzed from a contemporary point of view, i.e. as it was looked upon by the participants of the event, by Charles the Great and Leo III.

Neither of these rulers intended to create a western empire which would

counterbalance the Eastern Empire. Charles was undoubtedly convinced that upon receiving the title of emperor in the year 800 he became the sole ruler and the continuator of the single Roman Empire. The event meant only that Rome had reclaimed from Constantinople the right of imperial election.

The mind of that time could not conceive of the simultaneous existence of two empires; in its very substance the Empire was single. “The imperial dogma of a sole empire rested upon the dogma of a sole God, since only in his capacity of God’s temporary deputy could the emperor exercise divine authority on earth.”[106] The prevailing conditions of this period facilitated the popular acceptance of this view of imperial power, and it was the only view possible at the time.

Relations between Charles and the Byzantine Emperor had begun long before 800. In 781 a marriage had been arranged between Rotrud, Charles’ daughter, whom the Greeks called Eruthro, and Constantine, Emperor of Byzantium, at that time about twelve years old, whose mother Irene was the real ruler of the Empire.[107] A western historian of the period, Paul the Deacon, wrote to Charles: “I rejoice that your beautiful daughter may go across the seas and receive the sceptre in order that the strength of the kingdom, through her, be directed to Asia.”[108]

The fact that in the Byzantine Empire in the year 797 Irene dethroned the legal emperor, her son Constantine, and became the autocratic ruler of the Empire, was in sharp contradiction to the traditions of the Roman Empire, where no woman had ever ruled with full imperial authority. From the point of view of Charles and Pope Leo, then, the imperial throne was vacant, and in accepting the imperial crown Charles ascended this vacant throne of the undivided Roman Empire and became the legal successor, not of Romulus Augustulus, but of Leo IV, Heraclius, Justinian, Theodosius, and Constantine the Great, the emperors of the eastern line. An interesting confirmation of this view is found in the fact that in western annals referring to the year 800 and to subsequent years, where events were recorded by the years of Byzantine emperors, the name of Charles follows immediately after the name of Constantine VI.

If such was the view of Charles with regard to his imperial rank, then what was the attitude of the Byzantine Empire to his coronation? The Eastern Empire, too, treated it in accordance with the prevailing views of the period. In upholding Irene’s rights to the throne, the Byzantine Empire looked upon the event of 800 as one of the many attempts of revolt against the legal ruler, and feared, not without reason, that the newly proclaimed emperor, following the example of other insurgents, might decide to advance toward Constantinople in order to dethrone Irene and seize the imperial throne by force. In the eyes of the Byzantine government this event was only a revolt of some western provinces against the legal ruler of the empire.[109]

Charles was of course fully aware of the precariousness of his position and of the fact that his coronation did not settle the question of his rule over the eastern part of the empire. The German historian P. Schramm, who called Charles’ coronation “an act of violence which infringed on the rights of the Basileus,” pointed out the fact that Charles did not name himself “Emperor of the Romans,” the official title of the Byzantine emperors, but “imperium Romanum gubernans.”[110] Charles realized that after Irene the Byzantine Empire would elect another emperor, whose right to the imperial title would be recognized as indisputable in the East. Anticipating complications, Charles opened negotiations with Irene by proposing marriage to her, hoping “thus to unite the Eastern and Western provinces.”[111] In other words, Charles understood that his title meant very little unless recognized by the Byzantine Empire.

Irene received the marriage proposal favorably, but shortly after she was dethroned and exiled (in the year 802) so that the project was never executed.

After Irene’s fall the Byzantine sceptre came into the hands of Nicephorus, and between Charles and Nicephorus negotiations were carried on, probably in regard to the recognition of Charles’ imperial title. But it was not until the year 812 that the legates of the Byzantine Emperor Michael I Rangabé saluted Charles at Aix-la-Chapelle (Aachen) as emperor. This finally legalized the imperial election of the year 800. It is also perhaps from the year 812 that as a counterpoise to the title yielded to Charlemagne, the title “Emperor of the Romans” (Βασιλευς των Ρωμαιων) began to be used officially in Byzantium, designating the legitimate sovereign of Constantinople, as the symbol of supreme power of the Byzantine emperors.[112] From the year 812

onward there were two Roman emperors, in spite of the fact that in theory there was still only one Roman Empire. “In other words,” said Bury, “the act of 812 A.D. revived, in theory, the position of the fifth century. Michael I and Charles, Leo V and Lewis the Pious, stood to one another as Arcadius to Honorius, as Valentinian III to Theodosius II; the imperium Romanum stretched from the borders of Armenia to the shores of the Atlantic.”[113] It is self-evident that this unity of the Empire was purely nominal and theoretical. Both empires led distinctly different lives. Furthermore, the very idea of unity was being forgotten in the West.

The imperial rank obtained by Charles for the West was not long lived. During the ensuing troubles, followed by the disintegration of Charles’ monarchy, the title fell to casual holders. It disappeared completely in the first half of the tenth century, only to rise again in the second half, but this time in its unhistorical form of “The Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation.”

Only after the year 800 is it possible to speak of an Eastern Roman Empire, and J.

B. Bury did this by entitling the third volume of his History of the Byzantine Empire, which embraces events from 802 (the year of Irene’s fall) to the beginning of the Macedonian dynasty, A History of the Eastern Roman Empire, while the first two volumes of his work bear the title of A History of the Later Roman Empire.

Summary of the activities of the Isaurian dynasty.

Historians place much value upon the services of the first rulers of the Isaurian line, particularly upon the achievements of Leo III, and justly so, for the latter, having ascended the throne after a highly troubled period of anarchy, showed himself to be an eminent general, a gifted administrator, and a wise legislator who understood the problems of his time. The religious policy of the iconoclasts stands quite apart from their other activities. In most of the historical writings Leo III is praised very highly.

For instance, the Greeks recognize him “as one of the greatest rulers of the Eastern Empire, and one of the benefactors of humanity,”[114] the Germans, “as one of the greatest men on the imperial throne,” who clearly understood the need for “radical reform at the head and in the members,”[115] “a man who was destined to restore the empire by means of iron and blood, a person of great military genius.”[116] An English scholar referred to Leo’s achievements as “the regeneration of the Roman Empire,”[117] while a French historian characterized the deeds of the Isaurian emperors as “one of the very greatest and most admirable efforts that has ever been made for raising the moral, material, and intellectual level of the people,” and compared the importance of their “sweeping attempt at organization with the measures undertaken by Charles the Great.”[118] In recent times Charles Diehl made the statement that “from the government of the Isaurian emperors a new principle of life sprung forth, which was to enrich the world forever.”[119] In the somewhat casual estimates of Russian scholars, who, with the exception of the church historians, have not yet made any attempts at a detailed study of the general history of the Isaurian emperors, there is no excessive praise for these rulers. The three volumes of J. A.

Kulakovsky deal only with events up to the epoch of the iconoclastic emperors. The first volume of Lectures in Byzantine History, by S. P. Shestakov, which covers this period, does not contain any estimate. A very interesting and fresh appraisal of the antimonasterial and antimonastic movement is found in the Outlines of C. N. Uspensky.

Finally, Th. I. Uspensky remarked; “Leo the Isaurian is responsible for the rather rude manner with which the delicate problem of faith and worship of God was left by the government to the military and police authorities, who offended the religious feeling of the people and made of the local problem an event of state importance.”[120]

While recognizing unusual energy and some administrative genius on the part of the first two iconoclastic emperors, and admitting that Leo III unquestionably saved the Empire, one must, on the basis of all the available historical materials, abstain from excessive praise of the Isaurian dynasty. For their policy, no matter how sincere on their part, introduced great internal troubles into the life of the Empire, which was seriously disturbed for more than a hundred years. Even in its first period in the eighth century the iconoclastic movement alienated Italy and brought about very strained relations with the pope, who excommunicated the iconoclasts and turned to the West for aid and protection. The resulting friendship with the Frankish rulers initiated a new and extremely significant period of medieval history. At the same time the foundation for the future final rupture between the churches was gradually being laid. During the Isaurian period the Byzantine Empire lost middle Italy, including the Ravenna exarchate, which was conquered in the middle of the eighth century by the Lombards and later handed over to the pope by Pippin the Short.

However, no complete history of the Isaurian dynasty has yet been written, and many significant problems of this period still remain unsolved. For example, the question of the reduction of the number of monks and monasteries and of the apparently frequent secularization of monasterial lands calls for investigation, A more thorough study of the social aspect of the iconoclastic policy of the Isaurian emperors is at present one of the essential problems of Byzantine history. Careful research into this question may throw much new light upon the entire so-called “iconoclastic” epoch and disclose in it more profound meaning and still greater universal historical significance.

Successors of the Isaurians and the Phrygian Dynasty (820-67)

The emperors from 802 to 867 and their origin.

The time from the beginning of the ninth century until the accession of the Macedonian dynasty in the year 867 has been viewed by historians as a transitional period from the epoch of the revival of the Empire under the Isaurian emperors to the brilliant time of the Macedonian emperors. But the most recent studies show that this period is not a mere epilogue and is much more than a prologue. It appears to have an importance of its own and signifies a new phase in Byzantine culture.[121]

The revolution of the year 802 deposed Irene and raised Nicephorus I (802-11) to the Byzantine throne. According to oriental sources, Nicephorus was of Arabian origin.[122] One of his ancestors must have migrated into Pisidia, a province in Asia Minor, where Nicephorus was later born. The revolution of 802 was in its nature very rare in the annals of Byzantine history. An overwhelming majority of political uprisings in the Byzantine Empire were organized and led by military generals, leaders of the army. The case of Nicephorus was an exception to this general rule, for he was in no way connected with the army and held only the high post of minister of finance. This emperor fell in battle with the Bulgarians in the year 811, and the throne passed, for a few months, to his son Stauracius, who had also been severely wounded in the Bulgarian campaign. Stauracius died in the same year (811), but even before his death he was deposed in favor of the curopalates Michael I, a member of the Greek family of Rangabé, married to Procopia, a sister of the unfortunate Strauracius and a daughter of Nicephorus I. But Michael I also ruled only for a short period of time (811-13), for he was deposed, chiefly because of his unsuccessful campaign against the Bulgarians, by the military commander Leo, an Armenian by birth, known in history as Leo V the Armenian (813-20). In the year 820 Leo V was killed and the throne passed to one of the commanders of the guards, Michael II (820-29), surnamed the “Stammerer.” He came from the fortress of Amorion in Phrygia, a province of Asia Minor; hence his dynasty (820-67), represented by three rulers, is called the Amorian or Phrygian dynasty. He was a coarse and ignorant provincial who had spent his youth in Phrygia “among heretics, Hebrews, and half-hellenized Phrygians.”[123] One late Syrian source asserts even that he was a Jew by birth.[124] When he died the throne passed to his son, Theophilus (829-42), who was married to the famous restorer of orthodoxy, Theodora, from Paphlagonia in Asia Minor. The last member of this dynasty was their son, the corrupt and incapable Michael III (842-67), who has come down through the ages with the despicable surname of “Drunkard.”

No Byzantine emperor has been so badly treated, both in Byzantine tradition and in later literature, as this Michael III “the Drunkard,” “a Byzantine Caligula.” His incredible frivolity, his persistent drunkenness, his horrible impiety and abominable scurrility have been many times described. Recently, however, H. Grégoire opened an especially vigorous campaign to restore Michael’s reputation. He pointed out many facts of Michael’s epoch, particularly the energetic and successful fighting against the eastern Arabs, and he declared that this last sovereign of the Amorian dynasty possessed the temperament of a genius and truly inaugurated the triumphant phase of Byzantine history (843-1025).[125] One cannot go quite so far as Grégoire in characterizing Michael as a genius; indeed, since he was assassinated at the age of twenty-eight, perhaps he did not live long enough to show the extent of his powers.

While he possessed some highly undesirable qualities, it should be asserted that he had energy and initiative, and in addition — and this is probably more important — he managed to choose and keep near him talented and able advisers and executives.

Grégoire has justly emphasized the deep impression left in popular tradition and popular songs by Michael’s successful military activities against the eastern Arabs. His victory in the north over the Russians in 860-61 left an equally deep trace.[126]

During the minority of Michael III his mother Theodora was the official ruler of the Empire for fourteen years; she entrusted all government affairs to her favorite, Theoctistus. When Michael came of age he ordered that Theoctistus be killed, compelled his mother to take holy orders, and assumed the rule of the Empire. This drastic change was instigated and led chiefly by Bardas, uncle of the Emperor and brother of Theodora, who soon rose to the highest ranks of curopalates and Caesar, and became very influential in all government affairs. An Arab ambassador who had an audience with Michael has left an interesting picture of his complete indifference in state affairs. The ambassador wrote: “I did not hear a single word from his lips from the time of my arrival till my departure. The interpreter alone spoke, and the Emperor listened and expressed his assent or dissent by motions of his head. His uncle managed all his affairs.”[127] Highly gifted in many ways, Bardas successfully fought the enemies of the Empire and showed a clear understanding of the interests of the church. He honestly strove to spread more light and education among his people. But he, too, was treacherously killed through the intrigues of the new court favorite, Basil, the future founder of the Macedonian dynasty. After Bardas’ death Michael adopted Basil and crowned him with the imperial crown. Their joint rule lasted only a little over a year, for Basil, suspecting that Michael was plotting against him, persuaded some friends to kill his benefactor after one of the court feasts. Basil then became the sole ruler of the Empire and the founder of the most famous dynasty m Byzantine history.

Thus during the period from 802 until 867 the throne was occupied by two Arabs or Semites; by one Greek, Michael I, married to the daughter of Nicephorus I, an Arabian; by one Armenian; and finally, by three Phrygians, or one might almost say, half-Greeks. It was the first time in Byzantine history that the Byzantine throne had fallen into the hands of the Semitic race. It is evident that during this period eastern elements played a very important part in the rule of the Empire.

External relations of the Byzantine Empire.

Arabs and Slavs and the insurrection of Thomas the Slavonian. — In the ninth century hostile relations between the Byzantine Empire and the Arabs were almost incessant.

On the eastern land borderline these relations assumed the aspect of reiterated collisions which occurred with almost annual regularity and were accompanied by frequent exchanges of prisoners. On the Muhammedan side of the border a line of fortifications, intended as a defense against the attacks of the Byzantine army, was erected from Syria to the confines of Armenia. Similar fortified cities were to be found on the Byzantine side. All the fortifications formed a sort of limes in Asia Minor. Only in very few instances did the collisions along the eastern border in the ninth century assume the aspect of serious campaigns deep into the country. Parallel with the gradual political decline and weakening of the caliphate in the ninth century, which came as a result of serious internal disturbances and the predominance of Persians, and later of Turks, the continuous attacks of the Muslims upon the Byzantine Empire from the East ceased to threaten, as they did in the seventh and eighth centuries, the very existence of the Empire. These attacks continued, however, to bring great harm to the border provinces by injuring the prosperity of the population, by reducing their taxpaying ability, and by killing many of the inhabitants. The first thirty years of the ninth century were crowned by the reigns of the famous caliphs, Harun-ar-Rashid (786-809) and Mamun (813-33), under whom Persian influence enjoyed almost exclusive predominance and forced Arabian nationality into the background. In their political ideas the caliphs of the ninth century, particularly Mamun, resembled the Byzantine emperors in that they believed their authority to be unlimited in all phases of the life of their state.

Although the Arabo-Byzantine collisions in the East, with very few exceptions, did not result in any serious consequences for either side, the operations of the Muslim fleet in the Mediterranean Sea, which led to the occupation of Crete, the greater part of Sicily, and a number of important points in southern Italy, were of exceedingly great significance.

One of the interesting situations in the Arabo-Byzantine relations of the first half of the ninth century was the participation of the Arabs in the insurrection of Thomas during the reign of Michael II. This insurrection was organized in Asia Minor, by Thomas, a Slav by birth, and assumed the proportions of a grave civil war, which lasted for a period of over two years. It was the central event of the time of Michael II and is of much interest from the political and religious, as well as the social, point of view.

Politically it was significant because Thomas succeeded in gaining over to his side all of Asia Minor excepting the troops of two themes. Under his standards, according to some sources, were gathered various nationalities of Asia Minor and the borderlands of the Caucasus. Besides his own kinsmen, the Slavs, who had formed some immense colonies in Asia Minor after their mass migrations from the European continent, the army of Thomas included Persians, Armenians, Iberians, and members of several other Caucasian tribes.[128] Thomas stood at the head of such a powerful force that Caliph Mamun did not hesitate to form a close alliance with him to aid him in deposing Michael, for which the Arabs were promised certain Byzantine border territories. With the consent of, or at the instance of, Mamun, Thomas was crowned at Antioch as basileus of the Romans by Job, the patriarch of the city, and the Byzantine Emperor had to face a very dangerous and formidable rival. The eastern Arabs were apparently greatly interested in the development of this insurgent movement.

From the religious point of view the insurrection is very interesting because Thomas utilized the discontent of the large part of the population aroused by the renewed iconoclastic policy, and announced that he was an adherent of image-worship, claiming even to be Constantine, the son of Irene who had restored orthodoxy in an earlier period. This policy won over numerous supporters.

Some social strife resulted from this movement. Thus, in Asia Minor the tax collectors sided with Thomas, and there was, according to one source, an uprising of

“slaves against masters.”[129] The lower classes rose against their oppressors, the landowners, in a desire to build a better and brighter future for themselves. According to the same source, the ensuing civil war, “like some bursting cataracts of the Nile, flooded the earth, not with water, but with blood.”[130]

Supported by the fleet in the Aegean Sea, Thomas directed his forces against Constantinople. On his way he easily overcame the resistance offered by Michael’s troops, and he besieged the capital both on land and on sea. When he arrived at the European shores the Slavs of Thrace and Macedonia joined his forces. The siege of Constantinople lasted a full year. Michael was very hard pressed, but he triumphed as a result of two events. On the one hand, he succeeded in defeating Thomas’ fleet; on the other, he was aided by the Bulgarians, who appeared unexpectedly in the north under the leadership of their king, Omurtag, and defeated the land forces of the insurgents.

Thomas could not regain his former strength and was doomed to fail. He was forced to flee, and was later captured and executed; the remnants of his forces were easily destroyed. This complicated revolution, which lasted for more than two years, was completely extinguished in the year 823, and Michael could then feel fairly secure on his throne.[131]

For the Byzantine Empire the outcome of this insurrection was of considerable importance. Its failure was also a failure to restore image-worship. The defeat of Thomas meant also the defeat of Caliph Mamun in his offensive projects against the Byzantine Empire. Furthermore, this uprising in all probability created very serious social changes in Asia Minor. In the sixth century under Justinian the Great the system of large landed estates cultivated by peasants in a servile condition flourished widely in the Empire. In sources of subsequent centuries there are some references to small holdings and small peasant landowners. In the tenth century, however, the predominance of large landownership reappeared once more, particularly in Asia Minor. This may have been a result of Thomas’ uprising, which undoubtedly caused the ruin of a large number of small landowners who were unable to meet the heavy government taxes and were thus forced to transfer their property to their wealthy neighbors. Whatever the cause, the reappearance of large estates in the tenth century began to threaten even the power of the Emperor. This was particularly true in Asia Minor.[132]

Until the end of the thirties of the ninth century the Byzantine clashes with the Arabs had no serious consequences. At this time the caliphate was undergoing great internal disturbances, which were furthered at times through the skillful interference of the Byzantine government. The son of Michael II, Theophilus, was defeated in Asia Minor in 830, but in the following year (831) gained a victory in Cilicia over an Arab army of frontier troops and for his success received a brilliant triumph in Constantinople.[133] The ensuing years were not very successful for Theophilus. An Arab historian even says that Mamun looked forward to the entire subjugation of the Empire.[134] Theophilus sent Mamun an envoy bearing proposals of peace. But in 833

Mamun died and was succeeded by his brother Mutasim. During the first years of his rule there was a suspension of hostilities. In 837 Theophilus reopened an offensive which was extremely successful. He captured and burned the fortress of Zapetra and invaded some other places. He received for this success a triumph which was a repetition of the pageants and ceremonial which had attended his return six years before.[135] In 838, however, Mutasim equipped a large army which penetrated deep into Asia Minor and after a long siege occupied the important fortified city of Amorion in Phrygia, the birthplace of the ruling dynasty, “the eye and foundation of Christianity,” in the exaggerated words of the Arabian chronicle. Mutasim expected to march upon Constantinople after his successful occupation of Amorion, but he was forced to give up his plans and return to Syria when he received alarming news of a military conspiracy at home.[136]

In the annals of the Greek Church the siege of Amorion is connected with the miraculous story of forty-two distinguished prisoner martyrs who, on their refusal to embrace Islam, were led to the banks of the Tigris and beheaded. Their bodies were thrown into the river, but miraculously floated on top of the water; they were then rescued from the river by some Christians and given solemn burial.[137]

The disaster of Amorion made a very strong impression upon Theophilus. He lost all hope of effectively resisting the Arabian attacks with his own forces, and, fearing to lose the capital, he turned to the western states for help. His ambassadors appeared in Venice; in Ingelheim at the court of the Frankish king, Lewis the Pious; and even in the far west, in Spain, at the Court of the Umayyad emir. The western rulers all received the ambassadors in a friendly manner, yet they gave Theophilus no active assistance.

During the remaining period of the Amorian dynasty, in the later years of Theophilus’ reign and the reign of Michael III, internal strife within the caliphate prevented the eastern Arabs from renewing serious campaigns against the Byzantine Empire. Indeed, on several occasions Byzantine troops succeeded in defeating the Arabs. In the year 863 Omar, the emir (governor) of Melitene, sacked the Byzantine city of Amisus (Samsun) on the shore of the Black Sea, and, infuriated by the fact that the sea put a bound to his further advance, he was said, like Xerxes, to have scourged the water. But in the same year, on his return, he was intercepted and surrounded by Byzantine troops under the command of Petronas. The battle of Poson took place (the location of this has not been identified with any exactness) and the Arab forces were almost annihilated and Omar himself was slain.[138] This brilliant victory of Byzantine arms resounded in the Hippodrome in Constantinople, and a special chant, which has been preserved in the sources, celebrated the death of the emir on the field of battle.[139]

The first Russian attack on Constantinople.

Amid these annual conflicts with the Arabs, the sources suddenly began to speak of the first attack of the “Ros,” or the Russians, upon Constantinople. Until comparatively recent times this event was referred by the great majority of historians to the year 865

or 866, and it was frequently connected with the campaign of the Russian princes, Ascold and Dir. But since 1894, when a short anonymous chronicle found in Brussels was published by the Belgian scholar, Franz Cumont, this opinion has been recognized as erroneous. This chronicle gives very exact information: the Russians approached Constantinople in two hundred vessels on the eighteenth of June of the year 860, but were heavily defeated and lost many of their ships.[140] Some scholars were doubtful about the earlier dating of this event long before the publication of the anonymous chronicle, and on the basis of various chronological calculations were inclined to believe that 860 was the correct date. Thus, the famous Italian scholar of the eighteenth century, Assemani, set the date of this first attack of the Russians at the end of 859 or early in 860, although later scholars completely forgot the result of his investigation.[141] Fourteen years before the appearance of the anonymous chronicle of Brussels, and entirely independent of Assemani, the Russian church historian, Golubinsky, also arrived at the conclusion that this attack took place either in 860 or at the very beginning of 861.[142]

In one of his sermons, Patriarch Photius, a contemporary of this event, referred to the Russians as the “Scythian, coarse and barbarian people,” and to their attack as a

“barbarous, obstinate, and formidable sea,” a “terrible northern storm.”[143]

Struggles with the western Arabs. — At the same time as the eastern military operations, the Empire was also struggling with the western Arabs. North Africa, conquered by the Arabs with so much difficulty in the seventh century, soon freed itself from the domination of the eastern caliphs, so that after the year 800 the Abbasid caliphs ceased to exercise any authority in the provinces west of Egypt, and an independent Aghlabid dynasty, which possessed a powerful fleet, rose in Tunis in the early part of the ninth century (in 800).

All the Byzantine possessions in the Mediterranean Sea were seriously menaced by the Arabs during this period. Even in the early part of the ninth century, in the time of Nicephorus I, the African Arabs aided the Peloponnesian Slavs in their uprising and the siege of the city of Patrae (Patras). During the reign of Michael II the Byzantine Empire lost the strategically and commercially important island of Crete, which was captured by Arabian emigrants from Spain, who had first sought shelter in Egypt and then advanced to Crete. The leader of these Arabs founded a new city on this island and surrounded it by a deep moat, handak in Arabic, from which the new name of the island, Chandax, or Candia, originated.[144] From then on Crete became the nest of piratical bands which raided and devastated the islands of the Aegean Sea and the seacoast districts, causing thus great political and economic disturbances in the Byzantine Empire.

Still more serious for the Byzantine Empire was the loss of Sicily. As early as the seventh and eighth centuries this island had become subject to Arabian attacks, although these were not very serious. But in the time of the Amorian dynasty conditions changed. At the end of the reign of Michael II a man named Euphemius organized an uprising against the Emperor and was later proclaimed the ruler of the Empire. He soon realized that his own forces were not sufficient to resist the imperial troops, and appealed for aid to the African Arabs. The latter arrived in Sicily; but instead of aiding Euphemius, they began the conquest of the island, and Euphemius was killed by adherents of the Emperor.[145] In the opinion of an Italian historian, Gabotto, Euphemius was a dreamer, an idealist, a valiant fighter for the independence of his country, and a continuator of the traditional policy of creating in Italy an independent state, “the Roman Italian Empire” (Impero romano italiano). Gabotto’s characterization of Euphemius, however, is not confirmed by the evidence.[146] The Arabs became established in Panormos (Palermo) and gradually occupied the greater part of Sicily, including Messina, so that by the end of the reign of the Amorian dynasty, of all the large Sicilian cities, only Syracuse remained in the hands of the Christians. From Sicily the most natural step for the Arabs was to advance into the Byzantine territories in southern Italy.

The Apennine peninsula has at its southern extremity two small peninsulas: the one in the southeast was known in antiquity as Calabria, and the other in the southwest as Bruttium. In the Byzantine period a change occurred in these names. From the middle of the seventh century Bruttium was used less and less frequently, and became gradually replaced by the name of Calabria, which thus began to be applied to both small peninsulas; in other words, Calabria then signified all of the Byzantine possessions in southern Italy around the Gulf of Tarentum.[147]

The political position in Italy in the ninth century appears as follows: The Byzantine Empire retained Venice, the greater part of Campania, with the Duchy of Naples and two other duchies, as well as the two small southern peninsulas. Venice and Campania were only slightly politically dependent upon the Byzantine Empire, for they had an autonomous government of their own. The south of Italy was directly subject to the Empire. The greater part of Italy was in the hands of the Lombards. At the end of the seventh century the Lombard Duke of Beneventum won Tarentum from the Byzantine Empire; thus he reached as far as the shores of the Gulf itself and separated the two Byzantine districts from one another so that after this conquest the two smaller peninsulas could communicate only by sea. After the Italian conquests of Charles the Great and his imperial coronation in Rome the entire Apennine peninsula, except the Byzantine territories, was formally placed under the authority of the western Emperor; in reality, however, his power in the south did not reach any further than the borders of the papal state and the Duchy of Spoleto. The Duchy of Beneventum remained an independent state.

Contemporary with the gradual conquest of Sicily, the Arabian fleet also began to raid the Italian shores. The occupation of Tarentum in the time of Theophilus was a grave and direct menace to the Byzantine provinces in southern Italy. The Venetian fleet which came to the aid of the Emperor in the Gulf of Tarentum suffered a heavy defeat. Meanwhile the Arabs occupied the important fortified city of Bari on the eastern shore of the peninsula, and from there directed their conquests of the inner Italian districts. The western emperor, Lewis II, came there with his army, but was defeated and forced to retreat. At the same time, in the forties of the ninth century, Arabian pirates appeared at the mouth of the Tiber and threatened Rome, but upon capturing rich spoils, they departed from the old capital. The Roman basilicas of St.

Peter and St. Paul, situated outside the city walls of Rome, were damaged greatly during this attack.

In summary, the Arabo-Byzanrine contacts during the period of the Amorian dynasty resulted in failure in the West for the Byzantine Empire. Crete and Sicily were lost; the former only until 961, the latter forever. A number of important points in southern Italy also passed into the hands of the Arabs, although by the middle of the ninth century these did not form a large continuous territory. The results of the struggle with the Arabs along the eastern border were very different. Here the Empire succeeded in keeping its territories almost intact. The few insignificant changes along this border had no bearing upon the general course of events. In this respect the efforts of the Amorian dynasty were of much importance to the Empire, because for a period of forty-seven years the emperors of this line were able to withstand the aggressive operations of the eastern Arabs and preserve, on the whole, the integrity of Byzantine territory in Asia Minor.

The Byzantine Empire and the Bulgarians in the epoch of the Amorian Dynasty. — At the beginning of the ninth century the Bulgarian throne was occupied by Krum, an able warrior and wise organizer, who proved to be extremely dangerous to the Byzantine Empire. Nicephorus, having sensed in him a powerful enemy capable of gaining over to his side the Slavonic population of Macedonia and Thessaly, transferred many colonists from other parts of the Empire to these two provinces. By this measure, which, according to one source, aroused much dissatisfaction among the emigrants, the Emperor hoped to avert the danger of an alliance between the Bulgarians and the Slavs of the before named provinces.[148]

In the year 811, after several clashes with the Bulgarians, Nicephorus undertook a large expedition against Krum, during which he was lured with his army into ambush and defeated very severely. Nicephorus himself fell in battle, his son Stauracius was seriously wounded, and the army was almost completely annihilated. Since the famous battle near Hadrianople in the year 378, during which Valens had been killed on the field of action against the Visigoths, there had been no other instance before Nicephorus of the death of an emperor in battle with the barbarians. Krum made a bowl out of the skull of the dead emperor and the “Bulgarian boliads” (nobles)[149] were forced to drink from it.

In 813 Krum also defeated Michael I, who advanced against him at the head of an army so powerful that even the Asiatic forces had been withdrawn from the eastern frontier to strengthen it. But the numerical superiority of the Byzantine troops was of no avail; they were decisively beaten and put to a flight that was arrested only when they reached the walls of Constantinople. In the same year, soon after the rise of Leo V

the Armenian to the Byzantine throne, Krum carried the offensive to Constantinople, besieging the city in order “to fix his lance on the Golden Gate” (the walls of Constantinople), as one source put it.[150] Here, however, his successful progress was checked. He died suddenly, affording the Empire a temporary respite from the Bulgarian menace.[151]

One of the immediate successors of Krum, Omurtag, “one of the most eminent figures in the early history of Bulgaria,”[152] in the time of Leo V concluded with the Byzantine Empire a peace agreement to last for thirty years. The agreement dealt mainly with the problem of defining the border lines between the two states in the province of Thrace. Traces of these lines can be seen even today in the shape of some remains of earthen fences.[153] After peace was definitely concluded with the Bulgarians, Leo V reconstructed some of the ruined cities of Thrace and Macedonia. He also erected a stronger new wall around the capital for a surer defense against possible future Bulgarian attacks.

Later Bulgaro-Byzantine relations were not marked by any outstanding events until the early fifties of the ninth century, when the Bulgarian throne passed into the hands of Boris (Bogoris; 852-889), whose name is closely connected with the accounts of the conversion of the Bulgarians to Christianity.

The Christian faith had found its way into Bulgaria long before the time of Boris, primarily through the Byzantine captives taken by the Bulgarians during their battles with the imperial troops. The pagan Bulgarian khans severely persecuted “the perverted and the perverters.” Th. I. Uspensky asserted that “there is no doubt that Christianity began to spread in Bulgaria very early. Even as early as the eighth century there were a number of Christians in the palaces of the princes. The struggles between the Christian and pagan parties were responsible for many of the troubled events in Bulgarian history, as well as for the frequent change of khans.”[154]

The conversion of Boris to Christianity was prompted by the political situation in Bulgaria, which forced him to seek closer relations with the Byzantine Empire. Greek clergy came to Bulgaria to spread Christianity among the natives. About the year 864

King Boris was baptized and assumed the name of Michael, and soon after, his people also adopted Christianity. The story that the two famous Slavonic missionaries, the brothers St. Cyril and St. Methodius, participated directly in the baptism of Boris is not confirmed by authentic evidence. The fact that Bulgarians received baptism from the hands of the Byzantine clergy did much to increase the prestige and influence of the Byzantine Empire in the Balkan peninsula. Boris, however, soon realized that the Empire was not willing to grant the Bulgarian church complete independence. He wished to keep the right of guiding the spiritual life of Bulgaria, and he feared also that his kingdom might become politically dependent upon the Byzantine Empire. Boris decided to form an ecclesiastical alliance with Rome. He sent a delegation to Pope Nicholas I asking him to send Latin priests to Bulgaria. The pope was very glad to comply with this request, Latin bishops and priests soon came to Bulgaria, and the Greek clergy was driven out. The pope’s triumph was short-lived, however, for Bulgaria soon turned again to the Greek church, but this event occurred later, in the time of the Macedonian dynasty.[155]

While the relations between Constantinople and Rome were very strained at the time of the religious waverings of Boris, still there was no open breach in the church.

The requests sent by Boris to the Greek and Latin clergy did not signify a choice of either Orthodoxy or Catholicism. Officially the church of this period was still a single universal church.

The restoration of Orthodoxy. The separation of churches in the ninth century.

The first emperors of the period 802-67 were not iconoclastic in their policies, and it seemed almost that image-worship, restored by Irene, might gradually grow stronger and not become subject to new trials. The policy of Nicephorus was one of religious tolerance combined with the idea of temporal domination over the church.

Although he recognized the decisions of the Council of Nicaea and the victory of the image-worshipers, he was not an ardent follower of the latter movement. To the true zealots of image-worship the tolerant policy of Nicephorus seemed as bad as heresy. It is very probable that religious questions interested the Emperor very little. They mattered only in so far as they concerned the state. Yet monasticism experienced some anxious moments in the time of Nicephorus, especially when the highly respected Patriarch Tarasius, beloved by all his people, was replaced by the new Patriarch Nicephorus, who was raised to his high rank by the will of the Emperor directly from among laymen. This election was strongly opposed by the famous Theodore of Studion and his followers, the Studites, who were later sent into exile.

Michael I Rangabé ruled only for a short period (811-13) and was under the constant influence of the patriarch and the monks. He was an obedient son of the church and defender of its interests. During his reign Theodore and the Studites were recalled from exile.

A quarter of a century had elapsed since the time Irene had restored image-worship, but the iconoclastic movement was still alive in the eastern provinces of Asia Minor and in the ranks of the army. In 813, Leo, a military chief of Armenian birth, assumed the imperial title. In the time of his predecessors Leo enjoyed great authority as a gifted general and was careful to conceal his iconoclastic views; but as soon as he deposed Michael Rangabé and strengthened his own position on the throne he began to advance openly an iconoclastic policy. One source credits the Emperor with these words: “You see that all emperors who had accepted images and worshiped them died either in exile or in battle. Only those who had not adored images died a natural death while they still bore their imperial rank. These emperors were all placed in imperial sepulchers with high honors and buried in the temple of the Apostles. I want to follow their example and destroy images, so that, after my long life and the life of my son are over, our rule shall continue until the fourth and fifth generation.”[156]

The iconoclastic measures of Leo V were vehemently opposed by Patriarch

Nicephorus, who was later deposed by the Emperor. The rank of archbishop of Constantinople was conferred upon Theodotus, who was in complete agreement with Leo’s religious policy. In the year 815 a second iconoclastic council was gathered in the temple of St. Sophia in Constantinople. The acts of this council were destroyed after the restoration of icon worship, but its decree has been preserved in one of the apologetic works of Patriarch Nicephorus, and has been published.[157]

“Having established and confirmed the divinely accepted doctrine of the Holy Fathers and in accordance with the six Holy Ecumenical Councils,” this council

“condemned the unprofitable practice, unwarranted by tradition, of making and adoring images, preferring worship in spirit and truth.” The decree further indicated that with the change of masculine rule to feminine (Irene), “female simplicity” restored the adoration of “dead figures” and “lifeless icons,” the lighting of candles and burning of incense. The council prohibited “the unauthorized manufacture of pseudonymous icons of the catholic church,” rejected the adoration of images as confirmed by Patriarch Tarasius, and condemned the lighting of candles and lamps, as well as the offering of incense before images. Essentially this decree was a repetition of the basic ideas of the iconoclastic council of 754, whose acts it confirmed. The council stated that it was prohibited to adore images and useless to produce them. Since this council

“abstained from calling images idols, because there are degrees of evil,”[158] it has sometimes been regarded as more tolerant than the first iconoclastic council. But the opinion has recently been advanced that the second iconoclastic movement, particularly under Leo V and Theophilus, was neither more moderate nor more tolerant than that under Leo III and Constantine V, but “only spiritually poorer.”[159]

The iconoclastic emperors of the second period, Leo V the Armenian, Michael II the Stammerer, and Theophilus, had to carry out their religious policy under conditions which differed greatly from those which had prevailed in the first period.

The second period lasted only for about thirty years (815-43), and was thus much shorter than the first period which had lasted for more than fifty years. The iconoclasts of the first period took the iconodules, so to say, unawares. The latter were not sufficiently organized nor prepared for the struggle. The ruthless measures against images forced them to unite their ranks, strengthen their faith, develop methods of fighting, and collect all their dogmatic and polemic materials. The iconoclasts of the second period, therefore, met a much stronger resistance than had their predecessors.

The struggle became more difficult for them. Especially strong was the opposition advanced by the abbot of the monastery of Studion, Theodore, and his followers, the Studites, convinced defenders of image-worship, who exerted a great influence upon the mass of the people. Furthermore, Theodore openly wrote and spoke against the intervention of imperial power in the affairs of the church and defended the principles of church independence and freedom of conscience. Angered by Theodore’s attitude and activity, the Emperor sent him into distant exile and banished many of his followers.

According to the surviving sources, which are almost without exception hostile to the iconoclasts, the persecution of images and their worshipers was very severe in the time of Leo V. These sources name martyrs who suffered in this period. On the other hand, even the most vehement opponents of Leo V acknowledge that he was very efficient and skillful in defending the Empire and wise in his administrative measures.

According to one historian, Patriarch Nicephorus, deposed by Leo, “said after Leo’s death that the state of the Romans lost a very great, though impious, ruler.”[160] Still other contemporaries called Leo “the creeping snake,” and compared his time with

“winter and a thick fog.”[161]

Opinions vary regarding the religious views of Leo’s successor, Michael II. While some historians consider him neutral and indifferent, and a man who “followed the path of tolerance and proclaimed the great principles of freedom of conscience,”[162]

others call him a “convinced iconoclast, though not a fanatic,” “determined to support Leo’s iconoclastic reforms because they harmonized with his personal convictions, refusing at the same time to continue the further persecution of image-worship.”[163]

A recent investigator believed that Michael’s “political program consisted of an attempt to pacify all religious disputes even though this involved an enforced silence on debatable questions and a tolerant attitude toward each of the dissenting elements.”[164]

However, in spite of his iconoclastic tendencies, Michael did not initiate another period of persecution of image-worshipers, although when Methodius, who later became the patriarch of Constantinople, delivered the papal letter to the Emperor and called upon him to restore icon worship, he was subjected to a cruel scourging and was imprisoned in a tomb. In comparing the time of Leo V with the reign of Michael II contemporaries used such phrases as “the fire has gone out, but it is still smoking,” “like a crawling snake the tail of heresy has not yet been killed and is still wriggling,” “the winter is over, but real spring has not yet arrived,” etc.[165] The death of the famous defender of images and church freedom, Theodore of Studion, took place in the time of Michael II.

Theophilus, the successor of Michael II and the last iconoclastic emperor, was a man well versed in theological matters, distinguished by his fervent adoration of the Virgin and the saints, and the author of several church songs. Historical opinions of Theophilus are extremely contradictory, ranging all the way from the most damnatory to the most eulogistic statements. With regard to iconoclasm, the reign of Theophilus was the harshest time of the second period of the movement. The Emperor’s main adviser and leader in iconoclastic matters was John the Grammarian, later patriarch of Constantinople, the most enlightened man of that period, who was accused, as was frequently the case with learned men in the Middle Ages, of practicing sorcery and magic. The monks, many of whom were icon-painters, were subject to severe punishments. For example, the palms of the monk Lazarus, an image-painter, were burned with red-hot iron; for their zealous defense of images the two brothers Theophanes and Theodore were flogged and branded on their foreheads with certain insulting Greek verses composed by Theophilus himself for the purpose, and hence they were surnamed the “marked” (graptoi).

And yet a more critical examination of the surviving sources on Theophilus might force historians to forsake the claim that persecutions were excessively severe in his time. The facts giving evidence of cruel treatment of iconodules are few. Bury believed that the religious persecutions of Theophilus did not go beyond a certain geographical boundary, for the Emperor insisted upon the destruction of images only in the capital and its immediate environs. Bury was also of the opinion that during the entire second period of iconoclasm image-worship flourished in Greece and on the islands and coasts of Asia Minor. This fact has not been fully appreciated by historians.

The English scholar believed also that only in a few exceptional cases did the Emperor resort to severe punishments.[166] Much still remains to be done for a correct historical estimate of the second period of the iconoclastic movement.

Theodora, the wife of Theophilus, was a zealous adherent of image-worship, and her religious tendencies were well known to her husband. When Theophilus died in 842, Theodora became the official ruler of the Empire because of the minority of her son Michael. Her first problem was to restore image-worship. Apparently the opposition of the iconoclasts was not as strong in 842 as it had been in the time of Irene, the first restorer of image-worship, for it took Theodora only a little more than one year to convoke a council to confirm her religious tendencies, while Irene had to spend seven years in the same task. John the Grammarian was deposed from the patriarchal throne and the see of Constantinople was given to Methodius, who had suffered much in the time of Michael. The acts of the council convoked by Theodora have not been preserved, but other sources show that they confirmed the canons of the Council of Nicaea and restored image-worship. When the council finished its work, solemn service was performed in the temple of St. Sophia on the first Sunday in Lent, on the eleventh day of March, 843 A.D. This day is still solemnized as the feast of orthodoxy in the Greek Orthodox church. Until very recent times the year 842 was generally recognized as the correct date of the restoration of images.[167]

In the Near East the second period of iconoclasm was marked by the publication of a joint letter to protect images under the names of the three eastern patriarchs of the ninth century, Christopher of Alexandria, Job of Antioch, and Basil of Jerusalem.

In summary: The iconoclastic party drew its forces mainly from the court party and the army, including its leading generals, among whom some succeeded in attaining the high imperial rank, as did Leo III, Leo V, and Michael II. The iconoclastic tendencies of the army are attributed by some scholars to the fact that the greatest number of soldiers was drafted from among the eastern nationalities, mainly the Armenians, who had been transferred by the government in large numbers to the western provinces, mostly to Thrace. Hence the majority of the army was iconoclastic by conviction.

According to one scholar, “the Orthodox cult impressed the eastern soldiers as an alien religion, and they felt justified in using any kind of violence against those whom they called idolaters.”[168] As to the court party and the higher clergy, it may be said that the government officials and a number of bishops did not follow the dictates of their convictions, but professed views in accordance with their fears and ambitions. The population of Constantinople and the great majority of the clergy favored image-worship. The iconoclastic emperors were both gifted warriors and wise administrators, victorious over the Arabs and Bulgarians, and some of them may even be credited with having saved Christianity and the rising western civilization; but they did not persecute images in the name of their political aims and ambitions. Their religious measures were prompted rather by a sincere conviction that they were working toward improvement in the church and the purification of Christianity. The religious reforms of these emperors were at times even detrimental to the accomplishments of their wise political activities. The fight with the iconodules introduced great internal disturbances and weakened the political strength of the Empire. It also led to a rupture with the western church and the gradual separation of Italy from the Byzantine Empire. Only the policy pursued by the iconoclastic emperors toward the monks and monasteries is to be explained by political motives. It is very difficult to form a detailed judgment about the theological doctrine of the iconoclasts because almost all the literature pertaining to the problems of iconoclastic dogma was destroyed by the iconodules. Even among the iconoclasts there were men of moderate, as well as of extremely radical, tendencies.

Image-painting was looked upon as a potential cause of two possible dangers: the return to paganism, or the return to one of the heresies condemned by the ecumenical councils. In connection with the second period of the iconoclastic movement it is important to emphasize that while in the eighth century the Isaurians were always supported by the eastern provinces of Asia Minor this was not true in the ninth century. During the second period of iconoclasm “enthusiasm for iconoclastic ideas absolutely weakens; the movement was already spiritually exhausted.”[169]

The iconodule party was composed of the population of the western provinces, Italy and Greece, all the monks and the greater part of the clergy, the majority of the inhabitants of Constantinople, although they were at times forced by circumstances to feign that they were supporting iconoclasm, and finally, the population of several other sections of the Empire, such as the islands of the Aegean and some of the coast provinces of Asia Minor. The theological doctrine of the image-worshipers, as developed by such leaders as John Damascene and Theodore of Studion, was based on the Holy Scriptures. They considered images not only a means of enlightening the people but believed also that by preserving the holiness and merits of their prototypes

— Christ, the Virgin, and the saints — the icons possessed miraculous power.

The iconoclastic epoch has left deep traces in the artistic life of the period.

Numerous beautiful monuments of art, mosaics, frescoes, statues, and miniatures were destroyed during the struggle waged upon images. The richly decorated walls of temples were either plastered over or newly ornamented. “Briefly,” said N. P.

Kondakov, “the church life of the capital became subject to that protestant desolation which was destined to displace, sooner or later, all the artistic life of Byzantium … A large number of educated and wealthy people migrated with their families to Italy; thousands of monks founded numerous cave habitations and hermitages throughout the vast territory of southern Italy, Asia Minor and Cappadocia, which were painted by Greek artists. Hence Greek art and iconography of the eighth and ninth centuries must be sought outside of the Byzantine Empire: in Asia Minor or in southern and middle Italy.”[170] But parallel with the destruction of artistic monuments bearing the images of Christ, the Virgin, and the saints, the iconoclasts began to create a new type of art by turning to new subjects. They introduced ornament and began to present genre scenes, such as pictures of the chase, the Hippodrome, trees, birds, and beasts. Some remarkable works of art in ivory, enamels, and a number of interesting miniatures have also come down from the time of the iconoclastic movement. In general the artistic tendencies of the iconoclasts are viewed by art historians as a return to the classical traditions of Alexandria and a very significant tendency toward realism and the study of nature.[171] One important outcome of the iconoclastic epoch was the disappearance of sculptural representations of holy persons or sacred scenes from the eastern church.

Officially, neither the church nor the state prohibited these images; hence they apparently disappeared of their own accord. This is viewed by some historians as a partial victory for the iconoclasts over the extreme icon-worshipers.[172]

Iconoclastic influences were reflected also on Byzantine coins and seals. An entirely new coin and seal type developed under the sway of iconoclastic ideas in the eighth century. The new coins and seals sometimes bore only legends without any images of Christ, the Holy Virgin, or the saints; a cross or a cruciform monogram was sometimes used. On the whole, the type on the coins was confined almost exclusively to representations of the cross and the imperial family. Human portraiture fares hardly better than the sacred images of the precedent times: it is conventional throughout.[173] Later, when image-worship was restored, images of Christ, the Virgin, and the saints again appeared on the coins and seals.

Iconoclasm alienated Italy and the papacy from the Empire and was one of the main causes for the final breach in the church in the ninth century. The coronation of Charles the Great in 800 brought about still greater estrangement between the pope and the Byzantine Empire. The final rupture took place in the second half of the ninth century in the reign of Michael III, during the rise of the famous case of Photius and Ignatius in Constantinople.

Ignatius, widely known in his time for his zeal in defending image-worship, was deposed from the patriarchal throne and his high rank was conferred upon Photius, a layman, the most learned man of the period. Two parties formed then in the Byzantine Empire; one sided with Photius, the other with Ignatius, who refused to give up his title voluntarily. They continually anathematized each other and their heated disputes finally forced Michael III to convoke a council. Pope Nicholas I, who sided with Ignatius, was also invited to attend, but he sent only his legates. The latter, under the influence of bribes and threats and against the wish of the pope, confirmed the deposition of Ignatius and the election of Photius as patriarch of Constantinople. In opposition to this decision Pope Nicholas convoked a council in Rome which anathematized Photius and reinstated Ignatius. Michael paid no attention to the proclamation of this Roman council, and in a sharp note to the Pope stated that the church of Constantinople repudiated his claims to the leadership of the universal church. This incident came at the time of the conversion of the Bulgarian king, Boris, to Christianity, in which the interests of Constantinople and Rome clashed seriously, as we have pointed out elsewhere. In the year 867 (the year of Michael’s death) another council was convoked at Constantinople which condemned and anathematized the pope for his heretical doctrine in adding the filioque to the Christian creed, and also for his illegal intervention in the affairs of the church of Constantinople. The pope and the patriarch in their turn anathematized each other, and thus occurred the split in the church. With the death of Michael III the state of affairs changed. The new Emperor, Basil I, began his reign by deposing Photius and reinstating Ignatius.[173a]

Literature, learning, and art.

A movement so profound, complex, and intense as iconoclasm was bound to arouse wide literary activity. Unfortunately, however, the literature of the iconoclasts was destroyed almost completely by the triumphant image-worshipers, and is known today only by scanty fragments preserved in the works of the opponents of iconoclasm, who cited them for the purpose of refutation. It may be said, then, that practically all the surviving literary works of the iconoclastic period represent only one point of view.

Like the preceding period of the Heraclian dynasty, the iconoclastic epoch had no historians, though the chroniclers of this period have left numerous works, helpful to a correct understanding of Byzantine chronography and its sources and also highly valuable for the study of the iconoclastic period itself. George Syncellus,[174] who died in the early part of the ninth century, left a Chronography from the creation of the universe to the reign of Diocletian (284 A.D.), which he wrote during his stay in a monastery. While this work does not throw any light on the iconoclastic period, for the author did not deal with contemporary events, it is of considerable value for the elucidation of some problems of earlier Greek chronography, whose works George used as sources.

At the instance of George Syncellus his chronicle was continued in the early part of the same century by his friend, Theophanes the Confessor, whose influence as a chronicler upon the literature of subsequent periods was very great. He was a vehement enemy of the iconoclasts in the second period of the movement. He was submitted by Leo V the Armenian to an inquest, and after being confined in jail for some time, was exiled to one of the islands of the Aegean Sea, where he died in the year 817. The chronicle of Theophanes deals with the period from the reign of Diocletian, where George Syncellus left off his record of events, up to the fall of Emperor Michael I Rangabé, in the year 813. In spite of the clearly expressed eastern-orthodox point of view, very apparent in his analysis of historical events and personalities, and in spite of the biased nature of the account, the work of Theophanes is very valuable, not only because of its rich material from earlier sources, some of which have not been preserved but also because, as a contemporary source on the iconoclastic movement, it devotes more space to it than was usual with other Byzantine chroniclers. The work of Theophanes was the favorite source of subsequent chroniclers. The Latin translation of his chronicle, made by the papal librarian, Anastasius, in the second half of the ninth century, was of the same value to the medieval chronography of the West as the Greek original was for the East.[175]

Another significant writer of this period was Nicephorus, patriarch of

Constantinople in the early part of the ninth century. For his bold opposition to iconoclasm in the time of Leo V the Armenian, he was deposed and exiled. In his theological works, of which some are still unpublished, Nicephorus defends with a remarkable power based on deep conviction the correctness of the iconodulist views.

He refutes the arguments of the iconoclasts chiefly in his three “Refutations of the Ignorant and Godless Nonsense of the Impious Mammon [the name he applied to Constantine V] against the Salutary Incarnation of the Word of God.”[176] From the historical point of view, his Brief History, which narrates events from the death of Emperor Maurice in the year 602 until the year 769, is of considerable value. In spite of the fact that in attempting to make this work a popular account suitable for a wider circle of readers, Nicephorus gave it a somewhat didactic character, it still remains a source of importance, since it contains many interesting facts regarding the political and church history of the period. The very striking similarity of this History and the work of Theophanes may be explained by the fact that both used one common source.[177]

Finally, George the Monk (Monachus) Hamartolus, also a convinced enemy of the iconoclasts, left a universal chronicle from Adam to the death of Emperor Theophilus in 842 A.D., in other words, until the final victory of image-worship. This work is of much value for the cultural history of the period because it contains many discussions of problems which preoccupied the Byzantine monastics of that period, namely, the nature of monasticism itself, the spread of iconoclastic heresy, and the spread of the Saracen faith. It also gives a vivid picture of the aspirations and tastes of the Byzantine monasteries of the ninth century. The chronicle of Hamartolus formed the basis for later Byzantine arrangements of universal history, and exerted enormous influence upon the early pages of Slavonic literatures, particularly the Russian. Suffice it to say that the beginning of Russian chronicles is very closely connected with the work of Hamartolus. A manuscript of the old Slavo-Russian translation of Hamartolus contains 127 miniatures, which have not yet been thoroughly studied and appreciated, but which are of greatest importance for the history of the Russian and Byzantine art of the thirteenth century. This manuscript is the only illustrated copy of the Chronicle of Hamartolus that has come down to us.[178] With the exception of one anonymous writer on Emperor Leo V the Armenian,[179] Hamartolus is the only contemporary chronicler of the period from 813 to 842. He dealt with this period from a narrow monastic point of view, using mostly oral accounts of contemporaries and personal observations. The manuscript tradition of Hamartolus’ work, which was changed and enlarged many times in later centuries, has survived in such a complicated and entangled form that the question of his authentic original text forms one of the most difficult problems of Byzantine philology. It was only in the early part of the twentieth century that a critical edition of the Greek text of Hamartolus was published.[180]

Recently there appeared a critical edition of the old Slavo-Russian translation of the chronicle of Hamartolus, supplemented by the Greek text of the continuation of this chronicle which formed the basis of the Slavonic translation.[181]

Iconoclastic literature was almost completely destroyed by the triumphant image-worshipers; yet part of the detailed acts of the iconoclastic council of the year 754 have survived in the acts of the Seventh Ecumenical Council. Fragments of an extensive work against icon worship written by Constantine V Copronymus have been preserved in the three Refutations of Patriarch Nicephorus. This emperor was also the author of some other literary works.[182] Leo V ordered the compilation of a general work favorable to iconoclasm and based on the Bible and the church fathers, and a similar project was proposed at the iconoclastic council of the year 754; neither of these works has survived. A number of iconoclastic poems have been preserved in the works of Theodore of Studion. The Seventh Ecumenical Council decreed that all iconoclastic literature should be destroyed, and its ninth canon reads as follows: “All the childish plays, the raging mockeries and false writings directed against the honored icons must be presented to the episcopate of Constantinople and; there added to all other books of heretics. Anyone found guilty of hiding these works if bishop, or presbyter, or deacon, will be deposed; if monk or layman, will be excommunicated.”[183]

An enormous amount of literary material dealing with the defense of image-worship and highly important in its influence upon writings of later periods has been left by a man who spent all his life in a province which no longer formed part of the Empire. His name is John Damascene, a native of Syria, which was then under Arabian domination. He was minister of the caliph in Damascus and died about 750 A.D. in the famous Palestinian Laura of St. Sabas. John has left many works in the fields of dogmatics, polemics, history, philosophy, oratory, and poetry. His principal work is The Source of Knowledge, the third part of which, entitled “An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith,” was an attempt at a systematic presentation of the main foundations of the Christian faith and Christian dogmatics. Through this exposition John placed in the hands of the image-worshipers a powerful weapon for their struggle with their opponents, a weapon they had lacked in the early part of the iconoclastic movement.

Later, in the thirteenth century, this work was used by the famous father of the western church, Thomas Aquinas, as a model for his Summa Theologiae. Among the polemic works of John Damascene we must point out three treatises “against those who depreciate holy images,” where the author firmly and boldly defends image-worship. In ecclesiastical literature John is particularly famous for his church hymns, which are somewhat more intricate in form than the church songs of Romanus the Hymnwriter (Melode), although in depth of poetical force and profound doctrine they are among the best of the hymns of the Christian church. John was also the author of many beautiful canons for festivals of the Lord, about the Holy Virgin, or in honor of prophets, apostles, and martyrs. Especially solemn is his Easter service, whose chants express the deep joy of believers because of Christ’s victory over death and hell. Under John’s pen, church hymns reached the highest point of their development and beauty.

After him there were no remarkable writers in the field of Byzantine church poetry.[184]

The name of John Damascene is also closely connected with the romance

Barlaam and Josaphat, which enjoyed the widest popularity in all languages throughout the Middle Ages. No doubt the plot of the tale was derived from the well-known legend of Buddha. It is highly probable that the story was simply a version of the life of Buddha adopted by the Christians of the East for their own use; the author himself said that the story was brought to him from India. Throughout the Middle Ages, down to recent times, the romance was almost universally attributed to John Damascene, but in 1886

the French orientalist, H. Zotenberg, advanced some proofs that John could not have been the author, and many writers have accepted his conclusions.[185] But in recent years writers on this subject are less decided, and lean more toward the older point of view. Thus, while the author of an article on John Damascene published in the Catholic Encyclopedia in 1910 says that the romance Barlaam and Josaphat is dubiously attributed to John,[186] the most recent editors and translators of this romance think that the name of St. John of Damascus still has a right to appear on the title page of their edition.[187]

The second period of iconoclasm was marked by the activity of the well-known defender of image-worship, Theodore of Studion, the abbot of a famous monastery of Constantinople which had declined in the time of Constantine V, but was revived under the administration of Theodore. Under his administration a new rule was worked out for the monastery on the basis of community life (cenoby); the intellectual needs of the monks were to be satisfied by a school established at the monastery. The monks were to be trained in reading, writing, and the copying of manuscripts, the study of the Holy Scriptures and the works of fathers of the church, and the art of composing hymns, which they sang during services.

As one of the great religious and social workers in the stormy period of iconoclasm, Theodore demonstrated his ability as an eminent writer in various branches of literature. His dogmatic polemical works aimed to develop the fundamental theses concerning images and image-worship. His numerous sermons, which form the so-called Small and Large Catechisms, proved to be the most popular of his writings. He also left a number of epigrams, acrostics, and hymns. The latter cannot be studied and analyzed to any great extent because some of them are still unpublished, while others have appeared in unscientific editions, such as the Russian service books. His large collection of letters of a religious-canonic and social nature is of very great value for the cultural history of his times.

The two last reigns of this period were marked by the creative activity of the interesting figure of Kasia, the only gifted poetess of the Byzantine period. When Theophilus decided to choose a wife, a bride show was arranged in the capital, for which the most beautiful maidens of all provinces were gathered in Constantinople.

Kasia was one of them. The Emperor had to walk along the rows of maidens with a golden apple, and hand it to the one he desired to choose as his wife. He was about to hand it to Kasia, who pleased him more than any of the maidens, but her rather bold answer to his question caused him to change his intention and choose Theodora, the future restorer of orthodoxy. Kasia later founded a monastery where she spent the rest of her life. Kasia’s surviving church poems and epigrams are distinguished by original thought and vivid style. According to Krumbacher, who made a special study of her poems, “she was also a wise but singular woman, who combined a fine sensitiveness and a deep religiousness with an energetic frankness and a slight tendency to feminine slander.”[188]

The persecution of image-worshipers, glorified in later times by the triumphant iconodules, provided rich material for numerous lives of saints and gave rise to the brilliant period of Byzantine hagiography.

In the time of the Amorian dynasty some progress was made in the field of higher education in the Byzantine Empire and some advance in various branches of knowledge. Under Michael III, his uncle, Caesar Bardas, organized a higher school in Constantinople.[189] This higher school was located in the palace; its curriculum consisted of the seven main arts introduced in earlier pagan times and adopted later by Byzantine and western European schools. They are usually referred to as the “seven liberal arts” (septem artes liberales), divided into two groups: the trivium, grammar, rhetoric, and dialectics, and the quadrivium, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. Philosophy and ancient classical writers were also studied in this school.

Striving to make education accessible to everybody, Bardas proclaimed that the school would be free of charge; the professors were well paid from the government treasury.

The famous scholar of this period, Photius, was one of the teachers in the higher school of Bardas.

This school became the center about which gathered the best minds of the Empire during the subsequent reign of the Macedonian dynasty. Photius, whose first patriarchate fell in the time of Michael III, became the central force in the intellectual and literary movement of the second half of the ninth century. Exceptionally gifted, with a keen love of knowledge and an excellent education, he later devoted his entire attention and energy to educating others. His education had been many-sided, and his knowledge was extensive not only in theology but also in grammar, philosophy, natural science, law, and medicine. He gathered about himself a group of men who strove to enrich their knowledge. A man of inclusive scientific learning, Photius, as was customary in medieval times, was accused of having devoted himself to the study of the forbidden sciences of astrology and divination. Legendary tradition claims that in his youth he had sold his soul to a Jewish magician,[190] and in this, according to Bury,

“the Patriarch appears as one of the forerunners of Faustus.”[191] As the most learned man of his time, he did not limit himself to teaching, but devoted much of his time to writing and has left a rich and varied literary heritage.

Among the works of Photius, his Bibliotheca, or, as it is frequently called, Myriobiblon (thousands of books), is especially important. The circumstances which suggested this work are very interesting. A kind of reading club seems to have existed at the house of Photius where a select circle of his friends assembled to read aloud literature of all kinds, secular and religious, pagan and Christian. The rich library of Photius was at the service of his friends. Yielding to their requests he began to write synopses of the books which had been read.[192] In the Bibliotheca Photius gave extracts from numerous works, sometimes brief, sometimes extensive, as well as his own essays based on these abstracts, or critical comments on them. Here are many facts about grammarians, orators, historians, natural scientists, doctors, councils, and the lives of saints. The greatest value of this work lies in the fact that it has preserved fragments of writings which have disappeared. The Bibliotheca deals only with writers of prose. His numerous other works belong to the field of theology and grammar, and he has left also many sermons and letters. In two of his sermons he refers to the first attack of the Russians on Constantinople in the year 860, of which he was an eyewitness.

In his striking universality of knowledge and in his insistence upon the study of ancient writers, Photius was representative of that intellectual movement in the Byzantine Empire which became very apparent, especially in the capital, from the middle of the ninth century, and was expressed in such events as the opening of Bardas’ university, in which Photius himself devoted much time to teaching. In his lifetime and as a result of his influence, a closer and more friendly relation developed between secular science and theological teaching. So broad-minded was Photius in his relations to other people that even a Muhammedan ruler (Emir) of Crete could be his friend. One of his pupils, Nicolaus Mysticus, the Patriarch of Constantinople in the tenth century, wrote in his letter to the Emir’s son and successor that Photius “knew well that, although difference in religion is a barrier, wisdom, kindness, and the other qualities which adorn and dignify human nature attract the affection of those who love fair things; and, therefore, notwithstanding the difference of creeds, he loved your father, who was endowed with these qualities.”[193]

Patriarch John the Grammarian, an iconoclast, impressed his contemporaries by his profound and varied learning, and was even accused of being a magician. Another distinguished man was Leo, a remarkable mathematician of the time of Theophilus. He became so famous abroad through his pupils that the Caliph Mamun, zealously interested in promoting education, begged him to come to his court. When Theophilus heard of this invitation he gave Leo a salary and appointed him as public teacher in one of the Constantinopolitan churches. Although Mamun had sent a personal letter to Theophilus begging him to send Leo to Bagdad for a short stay, saying that he would consider it as an act of friendship, and offering for this favor, as tradition has it, eternal peace and 2000 pounds of gold, the Emperor refused to grant this demand. In this case Theophilus treated science “as if it were a secret to be guarded, like the manufacture of Greek fire, deeming it bad policy to enlighten barbarians.”[194] In later years Leo was elected archbishop of Thessalonica. When deposed in the time of Theodora for his iconoclastic views, Leo continued to teach at Constantinople and became the head of the higher school organized by Bardas. It is well to remember that the apostle of the Slavs, Constantine (Cyril), studied under the guidance of Photius and Leo, and previous to his Khazar mission occupied the chair of philosophy in the higher school of the capital.

This brief account will suffice to indicate that literary and intellectual life flourished in the time of the iconoclastic movement, and it would undoubtedly be seen to be more intensive and varied had the works of the iconoclasts survived through the ages.

In connection with the letters exchanged between Theophilus and Mamun

regarding Leo the Mathematician, it is interesting to consider the question of mutual cultural relations between the caliphate and the Empire in the first half of the ninth century. At this time the caliphate, ruled by Harun-ar-Rashid and Mamun, was experiencing a brilliant development of learning and science. In his desire to outrival the glories of Bagdad, Theophilus built a palace in imitation of Arabian models. Certain evidence indicates that the influence of Bagdad upon the Byzantine Empire was very stimulating,[195] but this difficult problem extends beyond the limits of this book.

It has been argued frequently that in the field of art the iconoclastic epoch produced only negative results. And it is true that numerous valuable monuments of art were destroyed by the iconoclasts. “Their violence is to be deplored; their vandalism impoverished not only the centuries in which it was exercised, but those in which we ourselves are living.”[196] But, on the other hand, the iconoclastic epoch brought a new stream of life into Byzantine art by reviving once more Hellenistic models, especially those of Alexandria, and by introducing oriental decoration borrowed from the Arabs, who in their turn had borrowed it from Persia. And though the iconoclasts categorically suppressed religious art with images of Christ, the Virgin, and saints, they were tolerant toward the presentation of the human figure in general, which became more realistic during this period under the influence of Hellenistic models. Genre scenes of everyday life became the favorite subject of artists, and on the whole there was a decided predominance of purely secular art. An example of this tendency is the fact that in place of the fresco representing the Sixth Ecumenical Council, Constantine V Copronymus ordered a portrait of his favorite charioteer.

The artistic monuments of the epoch, both religious and secular, have perished almost completely. Some mosaics in the churches of Thessalonica (Salonika) may fall within the limits of this period. A group of ivory carvings, especially ivory caskets, may also be attributed to the ninth century. The illuminated manuscripts of the iconoclastic epoch, the illustrations of which were the work of Byzantine monks, testify to the new spirit which had penetrated art. From the point of view of marginal illustrations the Chludoff (Chludov) Psalter is especially interesting. This oldest of illuminated psalters has been preserved at Moscow.[197] But it is greatly to be regretted that so few data exist for the study of art in the iconoclastic period. Many of the surviving materials are attributed to the iconoclastic epoch only on the basis of probable evidence, and not with full certainty.

Diehl thus appraised the significance of the iconoclastic epoch for the

subsequent second Golden Age of Byzantine art under the Macedonian dynasty: It was to the time of the iconoclasts that the Second Golden Age owed its essential characteristics. From the iconoclastic epoch proceed the two opposite tendencies which mark the Macedonian era. If at that time there flourished an imperial art inspired by classical tradition and marked by a growing interest in portraiture and real life which imposed its dominant ideas upon religious art, if in opposition to this official and secular art there existed a monastic art more severe, more theological, more wedded to tradition, if from the interaction of the two there issued a long series of masterpieces; it is in the period of iconoclasm that the seeds of this splendid harvest were sown. Not merely for its actual achievements, but for its influence upon the future, does this period deserve particular attention m the history of Byzantine art.[198]

6. The Macedonian epoch (867-1081)

The history of the Macedonian dynasty falls into two periods, unequal in significance and duration. The first period extends from 867 to 1025, the year of the death of Emperor Basil II; the second, the brief period from 1025 to 1056, when Empress Theodora, the last member of this dynasty, died.

The first period was the most brilliant time of the political existence of the Empire. The struggle in the east and in the north with the Arabs, Bulgarians, and Russians, was crowned with brilliant success for Byzantine arms by the second half of the tenth and the beginning of the eleventh century. This was achieved in spite of some failures at the end of the ninth and in the early part of the tenth century. This triumph of the Byzantine Empire was especially great under Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces, and reached its highest point in the reign of Basil II, In his time the separatist movements in Asia Minor were suppressed; Byzantine influence in Syria was strengthened; Armenia was in part annexed to the Empire and in part reduced to vassal dependence; Bulgaria was transformed into a Byzantine province; and Russia, upon adopting Christianity from Byzantium, entered into closer religious, political, commercial, and cultural relations with the Empire. This was the moment of the highest strength and glory ever attained by the Empire. The intensive legislative work, expressed in the publication of a gigantic code, the Basilics, and a number of famous novels directed against the pernicious growth of large landownership, and the intellectual advance associated with the names of Patriarch Photius and Constantine Porphyrogenitus add further glory and significance to the first period of the Macedonian dynasty.

After the year 1025, when the powerful figure of Basil II disappeared from the historical stage, the Empire entered a time of frequent court revolutions and anarchy which led to the troubled period of 1056-81. With the accession of the first of the Comneni, who seized the throne in 1081, the Empire regained its strength. Internal order was re-established, and for some time intellectual and artistic activity flourished once more.

The origin of the dynasty.

The question of the origin of the founder of the Macedonian dynasty has called forth many contradictory opinions, mainly because sources vary greatly on this point.

While Greek sources speak of the Armenian or Macedonian extraction of Basil I, and Armenian sources assert that he was of pure Armenian blood, Arabic sources call him a Slav. On the one hand, the generally accepted name “Macedonian” is applied to this dynasty, but on the other hand, some scholars still consider Basil an Armenian, and still others, especially Russian historians prior to the seventies of the nineteenth century, speak of him as a Slav. The majority of scholars consider Basil an Armenian who had settled in Macedonia, and speak of his dynasty as the Armenian dynasty. But in view of the fact that there were many Armenians and Slavs among the population of Macedonia, it might be correct to assume that Basil was of mixed Armeno-Slavonic origin.[1] According to one historian who has made a special study of Basil’s time, his family might have had an Armenian ancestry, which later intermarried with Slavs, who were very numerous in this part of Europe (Macedonia), and gradually became very much Slavonized.[2] A more exact definition of the Macedonian dynasty from the point of view of its ethnographic composition might be Armeno-Slavic. In recent years scholars have succeeded in determining that Basil was born in the Macedonian city of Charioupolis.[3]

Basil’s life previous to his election to the throne was very unusual. As an unknown youth he came to Constantinople to seek his fortune, and there attracted the attention of courtiers by his tall stature, his enormous strength, and his ability to break in the wildest horses. Stories of young Basil reached Emperor Michael III. He took him to court and later became completely subject to his new favorite, who was soon proclaimed co-ruler and crowned with the imperial crown in the temple of St. Sophia.

He repaid these favors received from the Emperor very brutally: When he noticed that Michael was becoming suspicious of him, he ordered his men to slay his benefactor, and then proclaimed himself emperor (867-86). After him the throne passed on to his sons, Leo VI the Philosopher or the Wise (886-912),[4] and Alexander (886-913). Leo’s son, Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus (913-59), remained indifferent to affairs of state and devoted all his time to literary work, in the midst of the most learned men of his time.

The administrative power was in the hands of his father-in-law, the skillful and energetic admiral, Romanus Lecapenus (919-44).[5] In the year 944 the sons of Romanus Lecapenus forced their father to abdicate and retire to a monastery, and declared themselves. emperors. They were deposed in 945 by Constantine Porphyrogenitus, who ruled independently from 945 until 959. His son, Romanus II, reigned only four years (959-63), leaving at his death his widow Theophano with two minor sons, Basil and Constantine. Theophano married the capable general, Nicephorus Phocas, who was proclaimed emperor (Nicephorus II Phocas, 963-69), His reign ceased when he was slain, and the throne passed to John Tzimisces (969-76), who claimed the imperial title because he had married Theodora, a sister of Romanus II and a daughter of Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus. Only after the death of John Tzimisces did the two sons of Romanus II, Basil II, surnamed Bulgaroctonus (the Bulgar-Slayer, 976-1025) and Constantine VIII (976-1028), become rulers of the Empire. Administrative power was concentrated mainly in the hands of Basil II, under whom the Empire rose to its highest power and glory. With his death began the period of decline for the Macedonian dynasty. After the death of Constantine VIII the aged senator, Romanus Argyrus, married to Constantine’s daughter, Zoë, became emperor and ruled from 1028 until 1034. Zoë survived him, and at the age of about fifty-six married her lover, Michael the Paphlagonian, who was proclaimed emperor at his wife’s entreaty, and ruled as Michael IV the Paphlagonian from 1034 to 1041. During his reign and in the brief reign of his nephew, Michael V Calaphates (1041-42), another accidental and insignificant figure, there was much disturbance and acute discontent in the Empire, which ended in the deposition and blinding of Michael V. For about two months the Byzantine Empire was ruled by the unusual combination of authority in the hands of Zoë, widowed for the second time, and of her younger sister, Theodora. In the same year (1042) Zoë married for the third time, and her new husband was proclaimed emperor. He ruled as Constantine IX Monomachus from 1042 until 1055. Zoë died before her third husband, but Theodora survived Constantine Monomachus and became the sole ruler of the Empire after his death (1055-56). After the reign of Irene, the famous restorer of image worship at the end of the eighth and early ninth centuries, the rule of Zoë and Theodora marks the second and last instance of feminine rule. Each of them occupied the throne as the autocratic and sovereign basilissa, i.e., Empress of the Romans.

Shortly before her death Theodora yielded to the demands of the court party and elected the aged patrician, Michael Stratioticus, as her successor. He ascended the throne after Theodora’s death in the year 1056. Theodora was the last ruler of the Macedonian dynasty, which occupied the throne for a period of 189 years.

External affairs of the Macedonian emperors.

Byzantine relations with the Arabs and Armenia. — The main problem in the external policy of Basil I, the founder of the Macedonian dynasty, was the struggle with the Muslim world. Conditions were unusually favorable for great achievements in this struggle, because in his time the Empire maintained peaceful relations with Armenia in the east, with Russia and Bulgaria in the north, and in the west with Venice and the western emperor. Added to these advantages was the internal dissension within the eastern caliphate aroused by the increasing influence of the Turks at the Arabian court, the defection of Egypt, where the independent dynasty of the Tulunids arose in the year 868, the civil wars among the North African Arabs, and the difficult position of the Spanish Umayyads in the midst of the local Christian population. Basil’s position then was very advantageous for a successful struggle with the eastern and western Arabs.

But although the Empire fought against the Arabs almost without interruption throughout the reign of Basil I, it did not take full advantage of the favorable external conditions.

The successful military campaign which opened at the beginning of the seventies in the eastern part of Asia Minor against the followers of the sect of the Paulicans resulted in the Emperor’s occupation of their main city of Tephrice. This conquest not only widened the extent of Byzantine territory, but also placed Basil face to face with the eastern Arabs. After several vigorously contested battles, the clashes between the two sides assumed the form of regular annual collisions which were not of very great consequence. Victory was sometimes on the side of the Greeks and sometimes on the side of the Arabs, but in the end the Byzantine borderline in Asia Minor moved considerably to the east.

Far more serious were Basil’s relations with the western Arabs, who at that time possessed the greater part of Sicily and occupied some important points in southern Italy. The troubled affairs of Italy caused the intervention of the western Emperor, Louis II, who occupied the important city of Bari. It was with this ruler that Basil I formed an alliance for a combined attempt to drive the western Arabs out of Italy and Sicily. But this alliance did not succeed and was soon dissolved. After the death of Louis the population of Bari handed over their city to Byzantine officials.

Meanwhile the Arabs occupied the strategically important island of Malta, south of Sicily, and in the year 878 they took Syracuse by assault after a siege of nine months.

An interesting description of the siege of Syracuse was written by an eyewitness, the monk Theodosius, who was living there at the time, and after the fall of the city was imprisoned by the Arabs in Palermo. He related that during the siege a famine raged in the city, and the inhabitants were forced to eat grass, skins of animals, ground bones mixed with water, and even corpses. This famine caused an epidemic which carried off an enormous part of the population.[6] After the loss of Syracuse, among important points in Sicily the Byzantine Empire retained only the city of Tauromemium or Taormina on the eastern coast of the island. This toss was a turning point in Basil’s external policy. His plans for a general attack on the Arabs were not to be realized. The occupation of Tarentum in southern Italy by Basil’s troops and their successful advance into the interior of this country under the leadership of their general, Nicephorus Phocas, during the last years of Basil’s reign might be considered as some consolation after the failure at Syracuse, however.

Notwithstanding the negative outcome of the western alliance against the Arabs, Basil attempted another alliance wirh the Armenian King Ashot Bagratid (Bagratuni) for the purpose of defeating the eastern Arabs. But at the time of the formation of this union Basil died. In spite of the loss of Syracuse and the unsuccessful campaigns against the Arabs, Basil increased somewhat the extent of Byzantine possessions in Asia Minor, and restored the lost importance of Byzantine rule in southern Italy. “The aged Basil,”

said a recent student of his period, “could die in peace. He had fulfilled, both in the east and in the west, a very great military task, which was at the same time a civilizing task.

The Empire left by Basil was stronger and more imposing than the one he had received.”[7]

The peaceful relations maintained by Basil with all his neighbors, excepting the Arabs, were broken under his successor, Leo VI the Wise (886-912). A war broke out with the Bulgarians, which ended with their victory. It was during this war that the Magyars (Hungarians) appeared in Byzantine history for the first time. Toward the end of Leo’s reign the Russians stood near Constantinople. Armenia, the ally of the Byzantine Empire, exposed to incessant Arabian invasions, did not receive the aid she expected from Byzantium. In addition to all this the question of the Emperor’s fourth marriage aroused strong internal disturbances. As a result of these external and internal complications the problem of the struggle with Islam became more complex and difficult for the Empire.

The campaigns against the Arabs were generally ineffective in the time of Leo VI.

In the military clashes on the eastern borders the Arabs were at times as victorious as the Greeks. Neither side gained much from these collisions. In the west the Muslims occupied the city of Rhegium (Reggio) on the Italian shore of the Strait of Messina and after this the Strait was completely in the hands of the Arabs. In 902 they conquered Tauromenium or Taormina, the last important fortified point of Byzantine Sicily. With the fall of this city Sicily was, so to say, entirely in the hands of the Arabs, for the smaller cities which still belonged to the Greeks were of no importance in the later history of the Empire. The eastern policy of Leo VI during the second half of his reign in no way depended upon his relations with the Sicilian Arabs.

The beginning of the tenth century was marked by active operations of the Muslim fleet. Even at the end of the ninth century Cretan pirates had repeatedly raided the coasts of the Peloponnesus and the islands of the Aegean Sea. These sea raids of the Arabs became still more dangerous when their Syrian and Cretan fleets began to act together. The attack of Thessalonica by the Muslim fleet under the leadership of the Greek renegade, Leo of Tripolis, in 904 is the most famous deed of the Arabs in this period. The city was taken only after a long and difficult siege, but a few days after its fall the conquerors departed with a large number of prisoners and rich spoils, setting sail eastward to Syria. It was only after this disaster that the Byzantine government began the fortification of Thessalonica. A detailed account of the Arabian raid of the city came from the pen of John Cameniates, a priest who lived through all the hardships of the siege.[8]

The successful naval operations of the Arabs forced the Byzantine rulers to devote more attention to the improvement of their own fleet. The result was that in 906 the Byzantine admiral Himerius gained a brilliant victory over the Arabs in the Aegean. But in 911 the great sea expedition of Leo VI against the allied eastern and Cretan Arabs, also headed by Himerius, ended in complete failure for the empire. In his exact account of the composition of this expedition Constantine Porphyrogenitus spoke of the presence of 700 Russians.[9]

Thus the Byzantine struggle with the Arabs was highly unsuccessful in the time of Leo VI: in the west Sicily was definitely lost; in southern Italy Byzantine troops failed to accomplish anything after the recall of Nicephorus Phocas; on the eastern border the Arabs were slowly but persistently going forward; and on the sea the Byzantine fleet suffered several serious defeats.

In spite of the religious animosity toward the Arabs and the military clashes with them official documents at times referred to them in very friendly terms. Thus the patriarch of Constantinople of this period, Nicholas Mysticus, wrote to “the most illustrious, most honorable and beloved” Emir of the island of Crete that “the two powers of the whole universe, the power of the Saracens and that of the Romans, are excelling and shining as the two great luminaries in the firmament. For this reason alone we must live in common as brothers although we differ in customs, manners, and religion.”[10]

In the long reign of Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus (913-59) and Romanus I Lecapenus (919-44) the Byzantine Empire could not struggle effectively with the Arabs until the end of the third decade of the tenth century, because all its forces were thrown into the Bulgarian war. Luckily for the Empire, the caliphate was at this time going through a period of disintegration and internal strife, and separate independent dynasties were being formed. However, one successful operation of the Byzantine fleet may be mentioned: in 917 the renegade pirate Leo of Tripoli, who in 904 had captured Thessalonica, was overwhelmingly defeated at Lemnos.”[11]

After the Bulgarian campaign very capable generals appeared in the Greek and Arab armies. The Greek domesticus John Curcuas was, in the words of the chronicler, a

“second Trajan or Belisarius” and a conquerer of “nearly thousands of cities.” A special work was even written about him, but it has not been preserved.[12] His genius brought in a new “dawn on the eastern border;” with him there seemed to come a “new spirit into the imperial eastern policy, a spirit of confident aggression.”[13] The Arabs, too, had an efficient chief in the person of Saif-ad-Daulah, a member of the independent dynasty of the Hamdanids, which ruled Aleppo. His court became a center of flourishing literary activity, and his period was called by contemporaries the “Golden Age.” Toward the middle of the tenth century Curcuas achieved numerous victories in Arabian Armenia and occupied many cities in upper Mesopotamia. In 933 Melitene was captured by Curcuas, and in 944 the city of Edessa was forced to give up its precious relic, the miraculous image of the Savior (mandilion, το μανδιλιον), which was transported to Constantinople with great pomp. This was the last triumph of Curcuas.

These successes made him “the hero of the moment,”[14] but his popularity alarmed the government and he was removed from his post. At that time Romanus Lecapenus fell, and in the next month his sons also were dethroned. Constantine Porphyrogenitus became sole emperor. “It was the end of an era; new actors were strutting onto the stage.”[15]

The epoch of Romanus Lecapenus was of very great importance for the

Byzantine policy in the East. After three centuries of keeping to the defensive, the Empire under the guidance of Romanus and John Curcuas assumed the offensive and began to triumph. The frontier was in a very different condition from what it had been at the time of Romanus’ accession. The border provinces were comparatively free from Arab raids. During the last twelve years of Romanus’ reign Muhammedan raiders only twice crossed the frontier. Romanus appointed as commander-in-chief Curcuas, “the most brilliant soldier that the Empire had produced for generations. He infused a new spirit into the imperial armies, and led them victorious deep into the country of the infidels … John Curcuas was the first of a line of great conquerors and as the first is worthy of high praise. And in the praise, a part should be given to Romanus Lecapenus to whose judgment the Empire owed his services and under whose rule were passed those twenty glorious years.”[16]

The last years of Constantine Porphyrogenitus were marked by desperate battles with Saif-ad-Daulah, and although the Greeks had been beaten in several of these collisions, the outcome of the struggle was the defeat of the Arabs in northern Mesopotamia and the crossing of the Euphrates by the Byzantine army. During these years of struggle John Tzimisces, the future emperor, distinguished himself by his capable leadership. But the large sea expedition organized against the Cretan Arabs in 949 resulted in complete failure and the loss of numerous vessels. Six hundred and twenty-nine Russians were among the Byzantine warriors who participated in this campaign.[17] The constant clashes between the Greeks and the Muslims in the west, in Italy, and Sicily were of no importance for the general course of events.

The eastern conquests of John Curcuas and John Tzimisces, which extended the borders of the Empire beyond the Euphrates, inaugurated a brilliant period of Byzantine victories over the Muslims. In the words of the French historian, Rambaud,

“All the failures of Basil I were revenged; the road was opened to Tarsus, Antioch, Cyprus, and Jerusalem … Before his death Constantine could rejoice because during his reign so many great acts had been performed for the cause of Christ. He opened the era of Crusades for the East as well as for the West, for the Hellenes as well as for the Franks

[i.e., for the western European nations].”[18]

During the brief reign of Romanus II (959-63), his capable and energetic general, Nicephorus Phocas, the future emperor, occupied the island of Crete, thus destroying the nest of Arabian pirates who had terrorized the population of the islands and coasts of the Aegean Sea. By reconquering Crete the Empire regained an important strategic and commercial point in the Mediterranean Sea.[19] Nicephorus Phocas was equally successful in the ensuing war with Saif-ad-Daulah in the east. After a difficult siege he succeeded in temporarily occupying Aleppo, the seat of the Hamdanids.

The achievements of the next three emperors — Nicephorus Phocas, John

Tzimisces, and Basil II Bulgaroctonus — form the most brilliant pages of the military history of the Empire in its struggle with Islam. During his six years’ reign (963-69) Nicephorus Phocas concentrated his attention on the East, although occasionally he diverted it to the hostile acts of the Bulgarians, which became more serious due to the intervention of the Russian prince, Sviatoslav. Some of the Emperor’s forces were also absorbed in the collisions with the German king, Otto the Great, in Italy. In the East the Byzantine troops followed the conquest of Tarsus by the occupation of Cilicia, while the fleet succeeded in taking from the Arabs the important island of Cyprus. In connection with the fall of Tarsus the Arab geographer of the thirteenth century, Yaqut, narrates an interesting story based on the accounts of refugees. Under the walls of Tarsus, he said, Nicephorus Phocas ordered that two banners be raised as emblems of “the land of the Romans” and “the land of Islam,” and commanded the heralds to announce that around the first banner should gather all who desired justice, impartiality, safety of property, family life, children, good roads, just laws, and kind treatment; and around the second, all those who upheld adultery, oppressive legislation, violence, extortion, the seizure of landed estates, and the confiscation of property.[20]

The occupation of Cilicia and Cyprus opened for Nicephorus the road to Syria, and he began to work toward the realization of his cherished dream: the conquest of Antioch, the heart of Syria. After a preliminary irruption into Syria, Nicephorus besieged Antioch, and when it became evident that the siege would last a very long time, the Emperor left his army and returned to the capital. During his absence, in the last year of his reign (969), his soldiers took Antioch with enormous spoils, thus fulfilling his great ambition. “Thus did Christian arms reconquer the great city of Antioch, the glorious Theoupolis [the name applied to the city by Justinian the Great], that ancient rival of Byzantium in the east, the city of great patriarchs and great saints, councils and heresies.”[21] Soon after the fall of Antioch the Byzantine troops took one more important Syrian center, the city of Aleppo, the residence of the Hamdanids.

There is in existence the interesting text of the agreement between the Byzantine general and the master of Aleppo.[22] This treaty defined very carefully the boundaries and names of the Syrian districts ceded to the Byzantine Emperor and of those over which he was to become suzerain. Chief among the conquered points was Antioch. The city of Aleppo (Haleb, in Arabic) became a vassal state of the Empire. The Muslim population was taxed in favor of Byzantium, while the Christians of the vassal districts were freed from all taxation. The ruler of Aleppo (the emir) agreed to aid the Emperor in case of war with the non-Muhammedans of those provinces. He also bound himself to protect Byzantine trade caravans which might enter his territory. The reconstruction of the destroyed churches was guaranteed to the Christians. Freedom to change from Christianity to Muhammedanism or vice versa was also guaranteed.

The treaty was concluded after the death of Nicephorus Phocas, murdered at the end of the year 969. Never before had the Muslims been subjected to so much humiliation. Cilicia and a part of Syria with Antioch were taken from them, and a very large portion of their territory was placed under the suzerainty of the Empire.

The Arabian historian of the eleventh century, Yahya of Antioch, writes that the Muslim population was certain that Nicephorus Phocas would conquer all of Syria and other provinces, too. “The incursions of Nicephorus,” wrote this chronicler, “became a pleasure for his soldiers, for nobody attacked them or opposed them; he marched wherever he pleased, and destroyed whatever he liked, without encountering any Muslim, or anyone else who would divert him and prevent him from doing that which he wished … Nobody could resist him.”[23] The Greek historian, of the time, Leo the Deacon, wrote that had Nicephorus not been assassinated, he would have been able “to fix the boundaries of their [i.e. Greek] Empire in the east as far as India, and in the west as far as the confines of the world,” in other words, the Atlantic Ocean.[24]

In the West the policy of Nicephorus Phocas was a failure. In his time the last points in Sicily which still belonged to the Empire were conquered by the Muslims, so that Sicily was completely in their hands. The main problem of John Tzimisces (969-76), who succeeded Phocas, was to secure the conquests in Cilicia and Syria. During the first years of his reign he could not participate personally in the military activities on the eastern border, because the Russian and Bulgarian wars, and the insurrection of Bardas Phocas demanded his undivided attention. He was victorious in the northern wars, and he also succeeded in suppressing the rebellion of Bardas Phocas. The Italian complications were settled through the marriage of the Byzantine princess, Theophano, to the heir of the German throne, the future Emperor Otto II. Only then was it possible for John Tzimisces to turn to his eastern problems.

His campaigns against the eastern Muslims were highly successful. Regarding his last campaign an interesting source is the letter from John Tzimisces to his ally, Ashot III, king of Armenia, preserved in the works of the Armenian historian, Matthew of Edessa.[25] This letter shows that the Emperor, in aiming to achieve his final goal of freeing Jerusalem from the hands of the Muslims, undertook a real crusade. He departed with his army from Antioch, entered Damascus, and in his southward movement advanced into Palestine, where the cities of Nazareth and Caesarea voluntarily delivered themselves to the Emperor; even Jerusalem began to plead for mercy. “If the pagan Africans who lived there,” wrote the Emperor in his letter to Ashot, “had not hidden out of fear of us in the seacoast castles, we would have entered, with God’s help, the sacred city of Jerusalem and prayed to God in the Holy Places.”[26]

But before reaching Jerusalem John Tzimisces directed his forces northward along the seacoast, and conquered many cities on his way. In the same letter the Emperor said,

“Today all Phoenicia, Palestine, and Syria are freed from the Muhammedan yoke and recognize the authority of the Byzantine Greeks.”[27] This letter, of course, contains many exaggerations. When it is compared with the testimony of the authentic information given by the Christian Arabian historian, Yahya of Antioch, it is evident that the results of the Palestinian campaign were much less notable. In all probability the Byzantine army did not go far beyond the boundaries of Syria.[28]

When the Byzantine soldiers returned to Antioch, the Emperor left for

Constantinople, where he died early in 976. One Byzantine chronicler wrote, “All nations were horror-stricken by the attacks of John Tzimisces; he enlarged the land of the Romans; the Saracens and Armenians fled, the Persians feared him; and people from all sides carried gifts to him, beseeching him to make peace with them; he marched as far as Edessa and the River Euphrates, and the earth became filled with Roman armies; Syria and Phoenicia were trampled by Roman horses, and he achieved great victories; the sword of the Christian cut down like a sickle.”[29] However this last brilliant expedition of John Tzimisces did not accomplish the annexation of the conquered provinces, for his army returned to Antioch, which became the main base of the Byzantine military forces in the east during the latter part of the tenth century.

Under the successor of John Tzimisces, Basil II (976-1025), the general state of affairs was not favorable for an aggressive policy in the east. The menacing insurrections of Bardas Sclerus and Bardas Phocas in Asia Minor and the continuing Bulgarian war demanded Basil’s undivided attention. Yet when the rebellions had been suppressed, the Emperor frequently participated in the struggle with the Muslims, even though the Bulgarian war had not ceased. The Syrian possessions of the Empire were greatly menaced by the caliph of Egypt, and the vassal city of Aleppo was occupied many times by the enemy’s army. By his personal appearance in Syria, at times unexpected, Basil frequently succeeded in restoring Byzantine influence in this province, but failed to make any significant new conquests. At the very outset of the eleventh century a treaty of peace was reached by the Emperor and the Egyptian Caliph Hakim of the dynasty of the Fatimids. During the remaining part of Basil’s reign there were no more serious collisions with the eastern Arabs. Meanwhile, Aleppo freed itself of its vassal dependence on the Byzantine Empire.

Although officially peaceful relations were established between Basil and the Caliph Hakim, the latter sometimes pursued a policy of cruel persecution of the Christians, which undoubtedly greatly chagrined Basil as a Christian emperor. In 1009

Hakim ordered the destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and Golgotha at Jerusalem. Church relics and riches were seized, monks were exiled, and pilgrims persecuted. The contemporary Arabian historian, Yahya of Antioch, said that the executor of the severe will of Hakim “endeavored to destroy the Holy Sepulcher itself and raze it to the ground; he broke to pieces the greater portion of it and destroyed it.”[30] The terrified Christians and Jews thronged the Muslim offices, promising to deny their religion and accept Islam. Hakim’s decree ordering the destruction of the temple was signed by his Christian minister.

Basil II did nothing, apparently, for the defense of the persecuted Christians and their sanctuaries. After Hakim’s death (1021) a period of tolerance toward Christians again set in, and in 1023 the patriarch of Jerusalem, Nicephorus, was sent to Constantinople to announce that the churches and their property had been restored to the Christians, that the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and all the destroyed churches in Egypt and Syria had been rebuilt, and that, in general, the Christians were safe in the dominions of the caliph.[31] Of course, these tales of the rapid restoration of temples in such a brief period of time were exaggerated.

In the west the Sicilian Arabs continued their raids on southern Italy, and the Byzantine government, occupied in solving other problems, could do nothing against them. The intervention of the German Emperor Otto II (related to the Byzantine throne) in Italian affairs resulted after some successes in a severe defeat at the hands of the Arabs. By the end of his reign Basil II had begun to plan an extensive expedition for the reconquest of Sicily, but he died in the course of its preparation.

The anarchy which set in after Basil’s death emboldened the Muslims to start a series of offensive movements, which were particularly successful in the districts of Aleppo. The situation was somewhat improved for the Empire by the young and gifted general, George Maniaces, who succeeded in occupying Edessa in the early thirties of the eleventh century, taking from it its second relic, the apocryphal letter of Jesus Christ to Abgar, king of Edessa.[32] After the fall of this city Emperor Romanus III proposed a treaty to the Muslims. Its first two conditions, concerning the city of Jerusalem, deserved special attention. First, the Christians should obtain the right to rebuild all the destroyed churches, and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher should be restored at the expense of the imperial treasury. Second, the Emperor should keep the right of appointing the patriarch of Jerusalem. As a result of disagreement regarding several conditions of the treaty, negotiations lasted for a long time. The caliph seems not to have opposed these two demands. When the final agreement was reached in 1036, the Emperor received the right of restoring the Church of the Holy Sepulcher at his expense,[33] and in 1046 the Persian traveler, Nasiri-Khusrau, who had visited the restored church, described it as a most spacious building with a capacity of eight thousand persons; the edifice, he said, was built with the utmost skill, of colored marbles, with ornamentation and sculptures; inside the church was adorned everywhere with pictures and Byzantine brocade worked in gold. The legend recorded by this Persian traveler noted that even the Emperor himself came to Jerusalem, but privily, so that no one should recognize him. The Persian related: “In the days when Hakim was ruler of Egypt, the Greek Caesar came in this manner to Jerusalem. When Hakim received news of this arrival, he sent for one of his cupbearers and said to him,

‘There is a man of such and such a countenance and condition whom thou wilt find seated in the mosque of the Holy City; go thou, therefore, and approach him, and say that Hakim hath sent thee to him, lest he should think that I, Hakim, knew not of his coming; but tell him to be of good cheer, for I have no evil intention against him.’”[34]

The Empire’s attempts to reconquer Sicily did not bring about any definite results, in spite of the fact that George Maniaces was victorious in several battles. It is interesting to know that the Sicilian expedition of this period included the Varangian-Russian Druzhina (company) which served the Empire. The famous hero of

Scandinavian sagas, Harald Haardraade, also participated in this campaign. In the middle of the eleventh century the Byzantine Empire was confronted by a new enemy, the Seljuq Turks, who were prominent in the subsequent period of Byzantine history.

Thus, in the time of the Macedonian dynasty, in spite of the troubled period which followed the death of Basil II, the efforts of John Curcuas, Nicephorus Phocas, John Tzimisces, and Basil II widened the eastern borders of the Empire as far as the Euphrates, and Syria, with Antioch, once more formed part of Byzantine territory. This was the most brilliant period in the history of Byzantine relations with the eastern Muslims.

At the same time very important and animated relations developed between the Empire and Armenia. For many centuries Armenia was the apple of discord between Rome and Persia. Their ancient struggle for this buffer state had finally led to the division of Armenia between them at the end of the fourth century. The smaller western part with the city of Theodosiopolis (now Erzerum) had been taken by the Roman Empire; the larger eastern part had fallen to the Persian Sassanids, and was known in the east as Persarmenia. According to one historian, the political division of Armenia “into two parts, eastern and western, led to a cultural break in the life of the Armenian people due to the difference between the Byzantine and Iranian rule.”[35]

Justinian the Great introduced important military and civil reforms in Armenia with the intention of destroying some of the surviving local customs and transforming Armenia into an ordinary imperial province.

In the seventh century, after the conquest of Syria and the defeat of Persia, the Arabs occupied Armenia. Armenian, Greek, and Arabic sources give contradictory accounts of this event. The Armenians later tried to take advantage of the troubled affairs of the caliphate, which frequently turned the attention of the Arabs away from Armenian problems, and made several attempts to throw off the new yoke. These attempts at revolt were repaid by terrible devastations on the part of the Arabs. N.

Marr said that at the beginning of the eighth century Armenia was completely ruined by the Arabs; “the feudal lords were exterminated with much cruelty and the glorious achievements of Christian architecture were destroyed. In short, the fruit of all the cultural efforts of the preceding centuries was reduced to nothing.”[36]

When the Arabian caliph found himself greatly in need of Armenian aid for his struggle with the Byzantine Empire in the middle of the ninth century, he conferred the title of “Prince of Princes” upon the Armenian ruler Ashot, of the family of Bagratids. The wise administration of this ruler received general recognition, and at the end of the ninth century the caliph conferred upon him the title of king. By this act a new Armenian kingdom, ruled by the dynasty of Bagratids, was definitely established.

When news of this reached Basil I, shortly before his death, he hastened to bestow a similar honor upon the new king of Armenia by sending him a royal crown and signing with him a treaty of friendship and union. Basil, in a letter, called Ashot his beloved son, and assured him that of all states Armenia would always remain the closest ally of the Empire.[37] This shows clearly that both the Emperor and the caliph attempted to secure Ashot the Bagratid as an ally in their struggle against each other.[38]

The anarchy which set in after Ashot’s death forced the Muslims to intervene in the internal affairs of Armenia, and it was only in the reign of Ashot II “the Iron” in the first half of the tenth century[39] that the Armenian territory was cleared to some extent of the Arabs, with the help of the Byzantine army and the assistance of the King of Iberia (Georgia, Gruzia). Ashot himself visited the court of Romanus Lecapenus at Constantinople and was accorded a triumphant reception. He was the first ruler to assume the title of Shahin-shah, meaning “King of Kings,” of Armenia. His successor, Ashot III, transferred the official capital of his kingdom to the fortress of Ani in the second half of the tenth century, where in a subsequent period many magnificent edifices were erected. The city which grew up there became a rich center of civilization. Up to World War I the ruins of Ani were within the boundaries of Russia, and to them the Russian scholar N. Marr devoted much time. His excavations resulted in brilliant discoveries, highly significant not only for the history of Armenia and the civilization of the Caucasian peoples in general, but also for a clearer conception of Byzantine influence in the Christian East.

The new disturbances in Armenia in connection with the invasions of the Seljuq Turks forced Basil II to assume personal leadership as soon as the Bulgarian war was over. As a result, one part of Armenia was annexed to the Empire and the other part placed in vassal dependence. This new expansion of the Empire in the East, for which the capital accorded Basil a triumphant reception, was the last military victory in the active and glorious reign of the aged basileus.[40] In the forties of the eleventh century, under Constantine IX Monomachus, the new capital of Armenia, Ani, was taken over by the Empire. This put an end to the rule of the Bagratids (Bagratuni). The last member of the dynasty was induced to come to Constantinople, where he received in place of his lost kingdom lands in Cappadocia, a money pension, and a palace on the Bosphorus.

The Byzantine Empire, however, was unable to maintain its power in Armenia because the people were greatly dissatisfied with the administrative as well as the religious policy of the central government. Most of the Byzantine troops who occupied Armenia, moreover, were removed and recalled to Europe to defend Constantine Monomachus, first against the insurrection of Leo Tornikios, and then against the Patzinaks (Pechenegs). The Turks, taking advantage of the existing state of affairs, made frequent irruptions into Armenia and gradually conquered it.

Relations of the Byzantine Empire with the Bulgarians and Magyars.

The relations with Bulgaria in the time of the Macedonian emperors were

extremely significant for the Empire. Although in the time of King Simeon Bulgaria became a formidable enemy of the Byzantine Empire, threatening even the capital and the Emperor’s power, the rulers of the Macedonian dynasty completely subjected this kingdom and transformed it into a Byzantine province.

During the reign of Basil I peaceful relations were maintained with Bulgaria.

Immediately after the death of Michael III the negotiations concerning the restoration of the union between the Bulgarian and Greek churches came to a happy ending. King Boris went so far as to send his son, Simeon, to be educated in Constantinople. These friendly relations were very advantageous for both sides. Relieved of all anxiety about his northern borders, Basil could pour all his forces into the struggle with the eastern Arabs in the heart of Asia Minor and the western Muslims in Italy. Boris, in his turn, needed peace for the internal upbuilding of his kingdom, which had only recently adopted Christianity.

After the accession of Leo VI (886), peace with Bulgaria was broken immediately because of some dispute regarding certain customs duties which were highly detrimental to Bulgarian trade. Bulgaria was ruled at this time by its very famous King Simeon, son of Boris. His “love of knowledge led him to reread the books of the ancients,”[41] and he rendered his kingdom great services in the realms of culture and education. His wide political schemes were to be realized at the expense of the Byzantine Empire. Leo VI, aware of the fact that he was unable to offer adequate resistance to Simeon because the Byzantine army was engaged in the Arabian campaigns, appealed for help to the wild Magyars. The latter agreed to make a sudden invasion of Bulgaria from the north in order to divert Simeon’s attention from the Byzantine borders.

This was a very significant moment in the history of Europe. For the first time, at the end of the ninth century, a new people, the Magyars (Hungarians, Ugrians; Byzantine sources frequently call them Turks, and western sources sometimes refer to them as Avars),[42] became involved in the international relations of European states, or, as C. Grot put it, this was “the first appearance of the Magyars on the arena of European wars as an ally of one of the most civilized nations.”[43] Simeon was defeated by the Magyars in several early battles, but he showed much skill in handling the difficult situation, by trying to gain time in negotiations with the Byzantine Empire, during which he succeeded in winning over the Patzinaks. With their aid he defeated the Magyars and forced them to move north to the place of their future state in the valley of the Middle Danube. After this victory Simeon turned his attention to the Byzantine Empire. A decisive victory over the Greek troops brought him to the very walls of Constantinople. The defeated Emperor succeeded in negotiating a peace treaty according to which he bound himself to refrain from any hostile action against the Bulgarians and to send rich gifts to Simeon every year.

After the Arabian siege and pillage of Thessalonica in the year 904, Simeon became very desirous of annexing this great city to his kingdom. Leo VI succeeded in preventing the realization of this scheme only by ceding to the Bulgarians other lands of the Empire. The boundary stone set up between Bulgaria and the Byzantine Empire in 904 still exists. It bears an interesting inscription concerning the agreement between the two powers,[44] about which the Bulgarian historian Zlatarsky commented:

“According to this agreement all the Slavonic lands of contemporary southern Macedonia and southern Albania, which until this time belonged to the Byzantine Empire, now [in 904] became part of the Bulgarian Kingdom; in other words, by this treaty Simeon united under the Bulgarian sceptre all those Slavonic tribes of the Balkan peninsula which gave Bulgarian nationality its ultimate aspect.”[45] From the time of this treaty until the end of Leo’s rule no collisions occurred between Bulgaria and the Byzantine Empire.

During the period which elapsed between the death of Leo VI and the death of Simeon the Bulgarian in 927 there was almost continuous warfare between the Empire and Bulgaria, and Simeon very definitely strove to conquer Constantinople. In vain did Patriarch Nicholas Mysticus send him abject epistles, written “not with ink, but with tears.”[46] At times the patriarch tried to abash Simeon and threatened that the Byzantine Empire would form an alliance with the Russians, the Patzinaks, the Alans, and the western Turks, i.e., the Magyars or Hungarians.[47] But Simeon was well aware that these projected alliances could not be realized, and hence the threats had no effect upon him. The Bulgarian army defeated the Greeks in several battles. Greek losses were especially severe in 917, when the Byzantine troops were annihilated at the river Achelous, close to Anchialus (in Thrace). The historian Leo the Deacon visited the site of the battle at the end of the tenth century and wrote: “Even now one can see heaps of bones close to Anchialus, where the Roman army, taking to flight, was ingloriously cut to pieces.”[48] After the battle of Achelous the way to Constantinople lay open to Simeon. But in 918 the Bulgarian armies were occupied in Serbia.[49] In 919 the clever and energetic admiral Romanus Lecapenus became emperor. Meanwhile the Bulgarians forged their way as far south as the Dardanelles,[50] and in 922 took Hadrianople (Odrin).

Thence their troops penetrated into Middle Greece on the one hand and on the other to the walls of Constantinople, which they threatened to occupy at any moment.

The suburban palaces of the Emperor were put to the torch. Meanwhile, Simeon attempted to form an alliance with the African Arabs for a joint siege of the capital. All of Thrace and Macedonia, excepting Constantinople and Thessalonica, were in the hands of the Bulgarian forces. Excavations made by the Russian Archaeological Institute of Constantinople near Aboba in northeastern Bulgaria have revealed several columns intended for the great church near the king’s palace; their historical interest lies in their inscriptions, which list the names of the Byzantine cities Simeon occupied.

It was partly on the possession of the larger part of Byzantine territory in the Balkan peninsula that Simeon based his right to call himself “emperor of the Bulgarians and Greeks.”

In 923 or 924 the famous interview between Romanus Lecapenus and Simeon

took place under the walls of Constantinople. The Emperor, who arrived first, came from his imperial yacht and Simeon from the land. The two monarchs greeted each other and conversed; Romanus’ speech has been preserved.[51] Some sort of truce was arranged, with conditions comparatively not too harsh, though Romanus had to pay a yearly tribute to Simeon. Simeon, however, was now compelled to retreat from Constantinople because he anticipated great danger from the newly formed Serbian kingdom, which was carrying on negotiations with the Byzantine Empire, and also because he had not attained satisfactory results in his negotiations with the Arabs. He later began to organize a new campaign against Constantinople, but he died in the midst of his preparations (927).

In the time of Simeon Bulgarian territory expanded enormously. It extended from the shores of the Black Sea to the Adriatic coast, and from the lower Danube to central Thrace and Macedonia, as far as Thessalonica. For these achievements, Simeon’s name is significant for the first attempt to replace Greek domination in the Balkan peninsula by Slavonic supremacy.

Simeon was succeeded by the meek Peter, who by his marriage became related to the Byzantine Emperor. The peace treaty that was signed by the Empire recognized his royal title, as well as the Bulgarian patriarchate established by Simeon. This peace lasted for some forty years. After the long succession of brilliant Bulgar victories, the terms of this peace, very satisfactory to Byzantium, “scarcely disguised the fact that actually Bulgaria had collapsed.”[52] This treaty represented a real success of wise and energetic policy on the part of Romanus Lecapenus. “Great Bulgaria” of Simeon’s time was torn asunder by internal strife under Peter. In connection with the collapse of the political might of Bulgaria, the Magyars and the Patzinaks invaded Thrace in 934 and penetrated as far as Constantinople. In 943 they reappeared in Thrace. Romanus Lecapenus concluded with them a five years’ peace, which was renewed after his fall and lasted throughout the reign of Constantine Porphyrogenitus.[53] Later, in the second half of the tenth century, the Magyars invaded the Balkan peninsula several times. The decline of Bulgaria’s strength was very advantageous for the Byzantine Empire. Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces continued to struggle persistently with the Bulgarians, and were aided by the Russian Prince Sviatoslav at the invitation of Nicephorus Phocas. When the success of Russian arms in Bulgaria brought Sviatoslav to the very borders of the Empire, however, the Emperor became greatly disturbed, and with reason, because the Russian troops later advanced so far on Byzantine territory that an early Russian chronicler reports that Sviatoslav “had almost reached the walls of Tzargrad (Constantinople).”[54] John Tzimisces directed his forces against the Russians under the pretext of defending Bulgaria from the onslaught of the new conquerors. He defeated Sviatoslav, conquered all of Eastern Bulgaria, and captured the entire Bulgarian dynasty. The annexation of eastern Bulgaria was thus definitely completed in the time of John Tzimisces.

After his death the Bulgarians took advantage of the internal complications in the Empire and rebelled against Byzantine domination. The outstanding leader of this period was Samuel, the energetic ruler of western independent Bulgaria, and probably the founder of a new dynasty, “one of the most prominent rulers of the First Bulgarian Empire.”[55] For a long time the struggle of Basil II with Samuel went against the Byzantine Empire, chiefly because its forces were engaged in eastern wars. Samuel conquered many new districts and proclaimed himself king of Bulgaria. Only at the beginning of the eleventh century did fortune begin to smile upon Basil. So cruel was his fight with the Bulgarians that he was given the name of Bulgaroctonus (“Slayer of the Bulgarians”). When Samuel beheld 14,000 Bulgarians blinded by Basil II and sent back to their homeland, he died of shock received from this horrible sight. After his death in 1014, Bulgaria was too weak to resist the Greeks, and was soon conquered by the Byzantine Empire. In 1018 the first Bulgarian kingdom ceased to exist, for it was transformed into a Byzantine province ruled by an imperial governor. It preserved its internal autonomy to a certain extent, however.

The Bulgarian rebellion, which broke out against the Empire in about the middle of the eleventh century under the leadership of Peter Delyan, was suppressed and resulted in the nullification of Bulgarian autonomy. During the period of Byzantine domination the districts populated by Bulgarians gradually were penetrated by Hellenic culture. The Bulgarian people, however, maintained their nationality, which reached particular strength when the Second Bulgarian Kingdom was formed in the twelfth century.

According to an Austrian historian, “the downfall of the Bulgarian Kingdom in 1018 belongs among the most important and decisive events of the eleventh century, and of the Middle Ages in general. The Roman (Byzantine) Empire was again raised up and extended from the Adriatic to the Black Sea, from the Danube to the southern extremity of the Peloponnesus.”[56]

The Byzantine Empire and Russia.

In the time of the Macedonian dynasty very animated relations developed

between Russia and Byzantium. According to the Russian chronicler, during the reign of Leo VI the Wise in the year 907 the Russian Prince Oleg appeared at the walls of Constantinople with numerous vessels. After pillaging the environs of the capital and killing a large number of people, Oleg forced the Emperor to initiate negotiations and reach a final agreement. Although no sources, Byzantine, western, or eastern, known up to recent times, refer to this expedition or to the name of Oleg, this account of the Russian chronicler, touched with legendary detail as it is, is based on actual historical events. It is very probable that this preliminary agreement of 907 was confirmed in 911

by a formal treaty which, also according to the old Russian chronicler, provided important trade privileges for the Russians.[57]

The famous history of Leo the Deacon, an invaluable source for the second half of the tenth century, has an interesting passage which does not usually receive due consideration, although at present it ought to be viewed as the sole hint at Oleg’s treaties found in Greek sources. This hint is the threat to Sviatoslav which Leo the Deacon put into the mouth of John Tzimisces: “I hope you have not forgotten the defeat of your father Igor who, having scorned the sworn agreements (τας ενορκους σπονδας), came by sea to the imperial city with a great army and numerous vessels.”[58] These

“sworn agreements” made with the Byzantine Empire before Igor’s time must have been the agreements of Oleg reported by the Russian chronicler. It might be interesting to compare the reference just given with the accounts found in Byzantine sources of the presence of Russian subsidiary troops in the Byzantine army from the early tenth century, and with the corresponding clause of the treaty of 911 (as given in the Russian chronicle), which permits the Russians, if they should so desire, to serve in the army of the Byzantine Emperor.[59]

In 1912 a Jewish scholar in America, Schechter, edited and translated into English the surviving fragments of an interesting Jewish medieval text on Khazaro-Russian-Byzantine relations in the tenth century. The value of this document is especially great because of the fact that it mentions the name of “Helgu [Oleg], the King of Russia” and contains some new evidence about him, such as the story of his unsuccessful expedition to Constantinople.[60] The chronological and topographical difficulties presented by this text are still in a stage of preliminary investigation; hence it is too early to pass any definite judgment about this unquestionably interesting document. In any event, the publication of this text has brought about a new attempt to re-examine the chronology of Oleg given by the old Russian chronicles.

In the time of Romanus Lecapenus the capital was twice attacked by the Russian Prince Igor. His name has been preserved not only in Russian chronicles, but in Greek and Latin sources as well. His first campaign in the year 941 was undertaken on numerous vessels which sailed to the Bithynian coast of the Black Sea and to the Bosphorus. Here the Russians pillaged the seacoast and advanced along the Asiatic shore of the Strait to Chrysopolis (now Scurari, facing Constantinople), but the expedition ended with complete failure for Igor. A large number of Russian vessels were destroyed by Greek fire, and the remnants of Igor’s fleet returned to the north.

The Russian prisoners captured by the Greeks were put to death.

Igor’s forces for his second campaign in 944 were much greater than those of his earlier expedition. The Russian chronicler related that Igor organized a large army of

“Varangians, Russians, Poliane, Slavs, Krivichi, Tivertsy, and Patzinaks.”[61] The Byzantine Emperor, frightened by these preparations, sent his best noblemen (boyars) to Igor and to the Patzinaks, offering them costly gifts and promising to pay Igor a tribute similar to that received by Oleg. In spite of all this Igor started out for Constantinople, but when he reached the banks of the Danube he consulted his druzhina (company) and decided to accept the conditions proposed by the Empire and return to Kiev. In the following year the Greeks and Russians negotiated a treaty on conditions less favorable to the Russians than those of Oleg. This peace agreement was to last “as long as the sun shall shine and the world shall stand, in the present centuries, and in the centuries to come.”[62]

The friendly relations established by this treaty were expressed more concretely under Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus in the year 957, when the Russian Grand Princess Olga (Elga) arrived at Constantinople and was magnificently received by the Emperor, the Empress, and the heir to the throne. Olga’s reception has been described in detail in an official contemporary record, the famous work of the tenth century Concerning the Ceremonies of the Byzantine Court.[63] The relations of Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces with the Russian prince Sviatoslav have been discussed in connection with the Bulgarian wars.

Still more important were the relations of Basil II Bulgaroctonus with the Russian Prince Vladimir, whose name is closely connected with the conversion of Russia to Christianity. In the ninth decade of the tenth century the position of the Emperor and his dynasty seemed very critical. Bardas Phocas, the leader of the rebellion against Basil, won over to his side almost all of Asia Minor and drew close to the capital; at the same time the northern provinces of the Empire were in danger of being invaded by the victorious Bulgarians. Basil appealed for help to the northern Prince Vladimir, and succeeded in forming an alliance with him on the condition that Vladimir should send 6000 soldiers to aid Basil, for which he was to receive the hand of the Emperor’s sister, Anna, and promise to accept Christianity and convert his people. With the help of this subsidiary Russian regiment, the so-called “Varangian-Russian Druzhina” (Company), the insurrection of Bardas Phocas was suppressed and its leader killed. But Basil was apparently unwilling to live up to his promise of arranging the marriage of his sister, Anna, to Vladimir. Then the Russian prince besieged and took the important Byzantine city of Cherson (Chersonesus, or Korsun) in the Crimea and forced Basil to yield and fulfill his original promise. Vladimir was baptized and married the Byzantine princess, Anna. It is not known exactly whether Russia’s conversion to Christianity took place in 988 or in 989. Some scholars accept the former date; others, the latter. Peaceful and friendly relations were established between Russia and the Byzantine Empire, and they lasted for a considerable length of time. Both countries engaged freely in extensive trade with one another.

According to one source, during the reign of Constantine Monomachus, in 1043,

“the Scythian merchants” (i.e., Russians) in Constantinople and the Greeks had a quarrel, during which a Russian nobleman was killed.[64] It is very probable that this incident was used by Russia as a sufficient motive for a new campaign against the Byzantine Empire. The Russian Great Prince Iaroslav the Wise sent his older son, Vladimir, with a large army on numerous vessels to Byzantine shores. This Russian fleet was almost demolished by the imperial forces through the use of Greek fire. The remnants of the Russian army of Vladimir hastened to retreat.[65] This expedition was the last undertaken by the Russians against Constantinople in the Middle Ages. The ethnographic changes which occurred in the steppes of present-day southern Russia in the middle of the eleventh century because of the appearance of the Turkish tribe of the Polovtzi removed all possibilities of direct relations between Russia and the Byzantine Empire.

The Patzinak problem.

In the eleventh century the Patzinaks of the Greek sources, or the Pechenegs of the Russian chronicles, exerted enormous influence upon the fate of the Empire for a considerable length of time. There was even a period, shortly before the First Crusade, when for the only time in their brief and barbarian historical existence the Patzinaks played a very significant part in world history.

The Byzantine Empire had known the Patzinaks for a long time. They had settled some time in the ninth century on the territory of modern Wallachia, north of the Lower Danube, and in the plains of what is now Southern Russia, so that their territory extended from the Lower Danube to the shores of the Dnieper, and sometimes even beyond this river. In the west the border line between their territory and the Bulgarian kingdom was definitely established, but in the east there was no district boundary because the Patzinaks were constantly forced to the west by other barbaric nomadic tribes, especially by the Uzes and the Cumans, or Polovtzi. The Patzinaks, the Uzes, and the Cumans were all tribes of Turkish origin, and therefore akin to the Seljuq Turks, who began to menace Byzantine possessions in Asia Minor in the eleventh century. The Cumanian dictionary or lexicon, which survives today, proves convincingly that the language of the Cumans or the Polovtzi is so closely related to other Turkish tongues that the difference between them is only that of dialects. For future historical developments this kinship between the Patzinaks and the Seljuq Turks was of very great importance.

The Byzantine rulers considered the Patzinaks as their most significant northern neighbors because they were the basic element in maintaining the equilibrium of the Empire’s relations with the Russians, Magyars, and Bulgarians. Constantine Porphyrogenitus devoted much space to the Patzinaks in his work On the

Administration of the Empire, written in the tenth century and dedicated to his son Romanus, who was to succeed him on the Byzantine throne. The royal writer advises his son first of all to maintain peaceful and friendly relations with the Patzinaks for the benefit of the Empire; for so long as the Patzinaks remain friendly to the Empire, neither the Russians, nor the Magyars, nor the Bulgarians will be able to attack Byzantine territory, From many things recorded by Constantine in this work it is also evident that the Patzinaks served as mediators in the trade relations of the Byzantine districts in the Crimea (the theme of Cherson) with Russia, Khazaria, and other neighboring countries.[66] Hence the Patzinaks of the tenth century were of great importance to the Byzantine Empire, both politically and economically.

In the second half of the tenth and early part of the eleventh centuries conditions changed. Eastern Bulgaria was conquered by John Tzimisces, and Basil II continued the conquest until all of Bulgaria was under Byzantine sway. The Patzinaks, who had formerly been separated from the Byzantine Empire by the Bulgarian kingdom, now became direct neighbors of the Empire. These new neighbors were so strong and numerous and aggressive that the Empire was unable to offer adequate resistance to their onslaught, caused by the pressure of the Polovtzi from behind.

Theophylact of Bulgaria, the church writer of the eleventh century, spoke of the irruptions of the Patzinaks, whom he called Scythians: “Their invasion is a flash of lightning; their retreat is both heavy and light at the same time: heavy with spoils and light in the speed of their flight … The most terrible thing about them is that they exceed in number the bees of the springtime, and no one knows yet how many thousands, or tens of thousands they count; their number is incalculable.”[67] Until the middle of the eleventh century, however, the Empire, apparently, had no cause to fear the Patzinaks. They became dangerous only when, in the middle of that century, they crossed the Danube.

V. G. Vasilievsky, who was the first among historians to make clear the historical significance of the Patzinaks, wrote in 1872 concerning their advance into Byzantine territory: “This event, which has escaped the attention of all modern historical works, had enormous significance for the history of humanity. In its consequences it was almost as important as the crossing of the Danube by the western Goths, which initiated the so-called migration of nations.”[68]

Constantine Monomachus (1042-55) assigned the Patzinaks certain Bulgarian districts for settlement and gave them three fortresses on the shore of the Danube. It became the duty of the Patzinak settlers to defend the borders of the Empire from the attacks of their kinsmen who remained on the other side of the river, as well as against the campaigns of the Russian princes.

But the Patzinaks on the northern shores of the Danube were persistently advancing to the south. In the early period of their irruptions they had crossed the Danube in large numbers (some sources speak of 800,000 people)[69] and had descended as far as Hadrianople, while some of their smaller detachments had reached the capital. Still, the troops of Constantine Monomachus were able to resist these hordes and deal them very painful blows. But toward the end of Constantine’s reign it became more difficult to oppose the advance of the Patzinaks. The expedition organized by the Emperor toward the end of his reign resulted in a complete annihilation of the Byzantine army. “In a terrible night of slaughter the crushed Byzantine regiments were destroyed by the barbarians almost without any resistance; only a small number of them escaped somehow and reached Hadrianople. All the gains of former victories were lost.”[70]

This complete defeat made it impossible for the Empire to begin a new struggle with the Patzinaks, and the Emperor was forced to buy peace at a very heavy price. His generous gifts induced them to promise to live peacefully in their provinces north of the Balkans. The Empire also bestowed Byzantine court titles upon the Patzinak princes. Thus, in the later years of the Macedonian dynasty, especially in the time of Constantine Monomachus, the Patzinaks were the most dangerous enemy of the Empire in the north.

Relations with Italy and western Europe.

The Italian developments of this period consisted primarily of the successful Arabian campaigns in Sicily and southern Italy. By the middle of the ninth century the republic of St. Mark (Venice) freed itself completely of Byzantine power and became an independent state. The Empire and this new state treated each other like independent governments in all the negotiations which arose later, for example, in the time of Basil I. In the ninth century their interests coincided in many points in so far as the aggressive movement of the western Arabs and the Adriatic Slavs were concerned.

From the time of Basil I an interesting correspondence with Louis II exists. It appears from the letters exchanged by these two rulers that they were engaged in a heated dispute regarding the illegal adoption of the imperial title by Louis II. Thus, even in the second half of the ninth century the results of the coronation of 800 were still in evidence. Although some historians have asserted that the letter of Louis II to Basil is spurious,[71] recent historians do not support this opinion.[72] Basil’s attempt to form an alliance with Louis II failed. The Byzantine occupation of Bari and Tarentum and the successful operations of Nicephorus Phocas against the Arabs in southern Italy raised Byzantine influence in Italy toward the end of Basil’s reign. The smaller Italian possessions, such as the duchies of Naples, Beneventum, Spoleto, the principality of Salerno, and others, frequently changed their attitude toward the Byzantine Empire in correspondence with the course of the Byzantine campaign against the Arabs.

Disregarding the recent break with the eastern church, Pope John VIII began active negotiations with Basil I, for he fully appreciated the extent of the Arabian menace to Rome. In striving to form a political alliance with the Eastern Empire the pope showed his readiness to make many concessions. Some scholars go so far as to attribute the absence of an emperor in the West for three and a half years after the death of Charles the Bold (877) to the fact that John VIII purposely delayed the coronation of a western ruler in order to avoid hurting the feelings of the Byzantine Emperor, whose aid was so much needed by Rome.[73]

In the time of Leo VI, Byzantine possessions in Italy were divided into two themes: Calabria and Longobardia. The Calabrian theme was all that was left of the vast Sicilian theme because, through the fall of Syracuse and Taormina, Sicily was entirely in the hands of the Arabs. As a result of the success of Byzantine arms in Italy Leo VI definitely separated Longobardia from the theme of Kephallenia, or the Ionian Islands, and made it an independent theme with its own strategus. Because of the incessant warfare, during which Byzantine forces were not always victorious, the borders of Calabria and Longobardia changed frequently. With the increase of Byzantine influence in southern Italy in the tenth century there was also a noticeable growth in the number of Greek monasteries and churches, some of which later became important cultural centers.

In the same century the Byzantine Empire and Italy witnessed the rise of a strong rival in the person of the German ruler, Otto I, crowned with the imperial crown in Rome by Pope John XII in 962. He is known in history as the founder of “The Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation.” Upon assuming the imperial title, Otto strove to become master of all Italy. This was, of course, a direct infringement upon Byzantine interests, especially in Longobardia. Negotiations between Otto and the eastern Emperor, Nicephorus Phocas, who was at this time probably dreaming of an offensive alliance with the German ruler against the Muslims, progressed very slowly, and Otto suddenly made an unsuccessful inroad into the Byzantine provinces of southern Italy.

For new negotiations with the eastern Emperor the German ruler sent to

Constantinople his legate, Liudprand, the bishop of Cremona, who had been once before ambassador to the Byzantine court in the time of Constantine Porphyrogenitus.

The population on the shores of the Bosphorus did not greet him with due respect, and he was exposed to great humiliation and many insults. He later wrote an account of his second sojourn at the Constantinopolitan court in the form of a malicious libel, which was in sharp contrast to his reverent description of his first visit to the eastern capital.

From this second account, usually known as the Relation on the Constantinopolitan Legation (Relatio de legatione constantinopolitana), it appears that the Byzantine Empire continued the old disputes about the title of basileus assumed by the western ruler. Liudprand accused the Byzantines of being weak and inactive, and justified the claims of his sovereign. In one part of this work he wrote, “Whom does Rome serve, about whose liberation you make so much noise? To whom does the city pay taxes? And did not this ancient city formerly serve courtesans? And then, in a time when all men were asleep and even in a state of impotence, my sovereign, the most august emperor, freed Rome of that shameful servitude.”[74] When Liudprand became aware of the fact that the Greeks were prolonging the negotiations intentionally in order to gain time for the organization of an Italian campaign, forbidding him meanwhile to hold any communications with his Emperor, he made every effort to depart from

Constantinople, succeeding only after much trouble and prolonged delay.

The break between the two empires was accomplished, and Otto I invaded the province of Apulia. However, the new Byzantine Emperor, John Tzimisces, completely altered the Byzantine policy toward Italy. Not only did he conclude a treaty of peace with the German ruler, but he strengthened his relations with him by arranging the marriage of Otto’s son and heir, Otto II, to the Byzantine Princess Theophano. Thus an alliance was finally formed between the two empires. The Arabian attacks on southern Italy, against which the successor of John Tzimisces, Basil II, could do nothing because his attention was claimed by the internal disturbances in the Byzantine Empire, forced the young Emperor Otto II (973-983) to organize a campaign against the Arabs. In one of the battles he was defeated, and died soon after. From this time on German advance into the Byzantine themes of Italy ceased for a long period of time.

At the end of the tenth century an administrative reform took place in Byzantine Italy. The former strategus of Longobardia was replaced by the catapan of Italy, who resided in Bari. As long as the various Italian kingdoms were engaged in mutual strife, the Byzantine catapan was able to handle the difficult problem of defending the southern coast of Italy against the Saracens.

The son of the Princess Theophano, Otto III (983-1002), educated in profound reverence for the Byzantine Empire and classical culture, was a contemporary and a relative of Basil II and a pupil of the famous scholar, Gerbert, who later became Pope Sylvester II. Otto III made no secret of his hatred for German coarseness, and dreamed of the restoration of the ancient Empire with Old Rome as the capital. According to James Bryce, “None save he desired to make the seven-hilled city again the city of dominion, reducing Germany and Lombardy and Greece to their rightful place of subject provinces. No one else so forgot the present to live in the light of the ancient order; no other soul was so possessed by that fervid mysticism and that reverence for the glories of the past whereon rested the idea of the Medieval Empire.”[75] Although the prestige of ancient Rome was extremely high in Otto’s imagination, still he was attracted chiefly to eastern Rome, to that court of fairy-like magnificence where his mother had been born and bred. Only in following the footsteps of the Byzantine rulers did Otto III hope to restore the imperial throne in Rome. He called himself imperator romanorum, and referred to the future world-monarchy as Orbis romanus. This young enthusiast, whose illusory schemes promised to introduce disturbance and difficulty into the life of the Byzantine Empire, died suddenly at the very beginning of the eleventh century, at the age of twenty-two (1002).

While in the early eleventh century Byzantine provinces in southern Italy were made safe from Arabian attacks through the interference of the Venetian fleet, they soon became exposed to danger from a new and formidable enemy, the Normans, who later began to threaten the Eastern Empire. The first large detachment of Normans arrived in Italy at the beginning of the eleventh century at the invitation of Meles, who rose in rebellion against Byzantine domination. The allied forces of Meles and the Normans were defeated, however, near Cannae, so famous in history since the victory of Hannibal during the Second Punic War. Basil II owed part of his success in this battle with the Normans to the Russian soldiers, who served in the ranks of the Byzantine army. The victory at Cannae strengthened the position of Byzantium in southern Italy to such an extent that in the fourth decade of the eleventh century Emperor Michael IV

the Paphlagonian equipped an expedition for the reconquest of Sicily from the Arabs.

This expedition was led by George Maniaces. In his army were the Scandinavian hero, Harald Haardraade, and the Varangian-Russian Druzhina (Company). Although this campaign was successful, and achieved, among other things, the occupation of Messina, the reconquest of Sicily was not accomplished, mainly because George Maniaces was recalled when he was suspected of having ambitious schemes.[76]

During the period of strife between Byzantium and Rome which ended in the division of churches in 1054, the Normans sided with Rome and began to advance, slowly but steadily, in Byzantine Italy. By the end of this period, i.e., about the middle of the eleventh century, there arose among the Normans in Italy a very capable and energetic leader, Robert Guiscard, whose major activities developed in the period subsequent to the Macedonian dynasty.

Social and political developments

Church affairs.

The major event in the church life of the Byzantine Empire in the time of the Macedonian dynasty was the final separation of the Christian church into the eastern Orthodox and the western Catholic, which took place in the middle of the eleventh century after long disputes which lasted for almost two centuries.

The first act of Basil I in the realm of church affairs was the deposition of Patriarch Photius and the reinstatement of Ignatius, who had been deposed in the time of Michael III. By this measure Basil hoped to strengthen his position on a throne which did not rightfully belong to him. He felt that by raising Ignatius he was accomplishing the double purpose of maintaining peaceful relations with the pope and gaining the support of the Byzantine people, many of whom, as he knew very well, were partisans of the deposed Ignatius. In their letters to the pope both Basil and Ignatius acknowledged his authority and influence in the affairs of the eastern church. The Emperor, for example, wrote, “Spiritual Father and divinely reverend Pontiff! Hasten the improvement of our church and through your interference with injustice give us an abundance of goods, namely, pure unity and spiritual joining free from any contention and schism, a church one in Christ, and a flock obedient to one shepherd.” Ignatius sent the pope a letter full of humility, requesting that the Roman patriarch send vicars to Constantinople. In the concluding statement he wrote, “With them [the vicars] we should well and suitably arrange our church, which we have received by the providence of God manifested in the intercession of the sublime Peter and at your instance and intervention.”[77] These letters indicate a moment of apparent triumph for the papacy in the East, but Pope Nicholas I did not live to witness this victory, because the letters sent to him from Byzantium came after his death and were received by his successor, Hadrian II.

At the Roman councils, and later in Constantinople in the year 869, in the presence of papal legates, Photius was deposed and anathematized with his partisans.

The Constantinopolitan council of 869 was recognized as an ecumenical council by the western church and is still considered as such.

In its own church life, then, the Empire yielded to the pope in all points. Quite different was the Emperor’s attitude toward me problem of religious affairs in Bulgaria, where the Latin clergy had triumphed at the end of the reign of Michael III. In spite of the pope’s displeasure and the opposition of the papal legates, Basil I succeeded in achieving the removal of Latin priests from Bulgaria, and Bulgarian King Boris again formed a union with the eastern church. This event exerted much influence upon the later historical fate of the Bulgarian people.

During his confinement, in which he was subjected to great privations, the deposed and excommunicated Photius continued to enjoy the admiration of his followers, who remained true to him throughout Ignatius’ patriarchate. Basil himself soon recognized that his attitude toward Photius had been wrong, and he tried to correct it. He began by recalling Photius from confinement and bringing him to the Byzantine court, where he was entrusted with the education of the Emperor’s children.

Later, when Ignatius died at a very advanced age, Basil offered Photius the patriarchal throne. This reinstatement of Photius marked the beginning of a new policy toward the pope.

In the year 879 a council was convoked in Constantinople. In the number of participating hierarchs and in the general magnificence of the setting it surpassed even some of the ecumenical councils. According to one historian, this council “was, on the whole, a truly majestic event, such as had not been seen since the time of the Council of Chalcedon.”[78] The legates of Pope John VIII also came to this council, and not only were they forced to consent to the absolution of Photius and the restoration of his communion with the Roman church, but they also had to listen without any contradiction to the reading of the Nicaeo-Constantinopolitan Creed, which did not Include the filioque so widely used in the West. At the last session of the council the legates exclaimed, “If any man refuse to recognize Photius as the Holy Patriarch and decline to be in communion with him, his lot shall be with Judas, and he shall not be included among the Christians!” The Catholic historian of Photius wrote that “praises to Photius were the opening statements of the council, and its sessions were closed also with the glorification of the patriarch.”[79] This council also argued that the pope was a patriarch like all other patriarchs, that he possessed no authority over the entire church, and hence that it was not necessary for the patriarch of Constantinople to receive the confirmation of the Roman pontiff. Greatly angered, the pope sent a legate to Constantinople to insist upon the annulment of any measure passed at the council which was disagreeable to the pope. The legate was also to obtain certain concessions regarding the Bulgarian church. Basil and Photius refused to yield in any of these points and even went so far as to arrest the legate. It was formerly believed that when news of this act of defiance reached John VIII he anathematized Photius in a solemn ceremony in the Church of St. Peter in the presence of a large number of his flock, holding the Gospel in his hands. This was the so-called second schism of Photius.

Recent investigations by Amann, Dvornik, and Grumel, however, have shown that the second schism of Photius never existed, and that neither John VIII or any of his successors anathematized Photius.[80] Relations between the Empire and Rome did not cease completely, however, but they became casual and indefinite. Photius did not remain in the patriarchal chair until the end of his life, for he was forced to leave it in 886, when his pupil, Leo VI, succeeded Basil I. Five years later Photius died. Throughout his long lifetime he played a very significant part in the religious as well as in the intellectual life of the Byzantine Empire.

The reign of Basil I was marked also by a number of attempts to spread

Christianity among pagan and heterodox peoples. Probably in his time the Empire endeavored to convert the Russians to Christianity, but very little light has been thrown on this subject. A source asserts that Basil persuaded the Russians “to take part in salutary baptism”[81] and accept the archbishop ordained by Ignatius. As yet it is difficult to determine which Russians the writer of this source had in mind. The conversion of the greater part of the Slavonic tribes settled in the Peloponnesus took place in the time of Basil I; the pagan Slavs remained in the mountains of Taygetus. It is also known that Basil forced the Jews of the Empire to accept Christianity.

The deposition of Photius by Leo VI can be explained by Leo’s fear of the growing political influence of the patriarch and his party, as well as by Leo’s desire to raise his brother Stephen to the patriarchal throne. Through this latter measure he hoped to acquire unlimited authority in the church affairs of the Empire; Photius’ strong will would have opposed the Emperor’s tendency to rule over ecclesiastical matters. Under Leo’s successors there was a noticeable tendency toward a reconciliation with the Roman church through mutual concessions.

The church problems of the Byzantine Empire became especially complicated at the beginning of the tenth century during the patriarchate of Nicholas Mysticus, a relative and pupil of Photius and the most remarkable of his successors. According to one historian, “the most noble traits of Photius were reincarnated in his pupil, Nicholas Mysticus, who, more than any one else, strove to follow the ideal example of a patriarch symbolized by Photius.”[82] This patriarch left a very interesting collection of letters invaluable from the historical and ecclesiastical points of view.

Strong disagreements arose between Leo and Nicholas Mysticus on account of the Emperor’s fourth marriage, vehemently opposed by the patriarch on the basis that it was against all church laws.[83] In spite of this, the Emperor forced a presbyter to perform the marriage ceremony between him and Zoë, who thus became his fourth wife (his first three wives had died in rapid succession). After the wedding had been performed, in the absence of a patriarch, Leo himself placed the imperial crown upon Zoë’s head; this later gave Nicholas Mysticus occasion to say that the Emperor was to Zoë “both groom and bishop.”[84] The eastern patriarchs, when questioned with regard to this problem, expressed themselves in favor of allowing Leo to marry for the fourth time.[85] This marriage excited great confusion among the population of the Empire.

The recalcitrant Nicholas Mysticus was deposed and exiled. At the Constantinopolitan council it was determined to grant a dispensation to the Emperor without dissolving his fourth marriage. After long deliberations the rank of patriarch was conferred upon Euthymius.

The council did not bring harmony to the Empire. Two parties were formed among the Byzantine clergy. The first, which sided with Nicholas Mysticus, was against the confirmation of the Emperor’s fourth marriage and denounced the new patriarch, Euthymius. The other, a minority party, was in agreement with the decision of the council concerning Leo’s marriage, and recognized Euthymius as the chosen leader of the church. The dissension between these two parties spread from the capital into the provinces, and an obstinate struggle developed everywhere between the Nicholaites and the Euthymites. Some scholars view this struggle as a continuation of the former animosity between the Photinians (or Photians) and the Ignatians, which had subsided only for a short while.[86] In the end the Emperor saw that only the energetic and experienced Nicholas Mysticus could remedy the situation, and shortly before his death (912) Leo VI recalled Nicholas from confinement, deposed Euthymius, and reinstated the former on the patriarchal throne.[87]

In the interests of religious peace in the Empire Nicholas Mysticus strove to restore the friendly relations with Rome which had been severed because of the pope’s approval of Leo’s fourth marriage. During the regency of Zoë, who ruled during the minority of her son, Constantine VII Porphyrogemtus, Nicholas Mysticus was deprived of influence. But in the year 919, when the government was transferred to Constantine’s father-in-law, Romanus I Lecapenus, and Zoë was forced to embrace monastic life, Nicholas Mysticus again rose to his former influential position. The main event in the last years of his patriarchate was the convocation in 920 of a council in Constantinople, which consisted of Nicholaites and Euthymites. They composed the Tome of Union (ο τομος της ενωσεως), approved by the general assembly. This act proclaimed that marriage for the fourth time was “unquestionably illicit and void, because it was prohibited by the church and intolerable in a Christian land.”[88] No direct reference was made in the Tome to the fourth marriage of Leo the Wise. Both parties remained satisfied by the decision of the council. It is probable, as Drinov supposed, that the reconciliation between the Nicholaites and the Euthymites was prompted also by “the terror aroused in the Byzantine population by the success of Bulgarian arms,”[89] After the council several letters were exchanged with the pope, and he agreed to send to the capital two bishops, who were to condemn the conflicts aroused by Leo’s fourth marriage. Direct communications were thus re-established between the churches of Rome and Constantinople. The Russian church historian, A. P.

Lebedev, summed up the outcome of this period: “Patriarch Nicholas emerged as full victor in this new clash between the churches of Constantinople and Rome. The Roman church has to yield to the church of Constantinople and condemn its own acts.”[90]

After the death of Nicholas Mysticus in 925, Romanus Lecapenus gained complete control over the church, and, as Runciman said, “Caesaropapism once more emerged victorious.”[91]

Emperor Nicephorus Phocas was a very interesting personality from the

ecclesiastical point of view. This most capable warrior, whose name is closely bound up with the brilliant pages of Byzantine military history, had devoted much of his time and attention, especially before he ascended the throne, to monastic ideals. He had even worn the hair shirt, and he kept up intimate relations with St. Athanasius of Athos, the famous founder of the large monastery on Mount Athos. The Life of Saint Athanasius even relates that once in a transport of religious zeal Nicephorus supposedly confided to Athanasius his sacred dream of forsaking all worldly vanity in order to devote himself to the service of God.[92] The Byzantine historian, Leo the Deacon, wrote that Nicephorus was “indomitably firm in his prayers to God and his nocturnal devotions; he maintained a very high spirit in his church hymns, and had no leanings toward anything vain.”[93] Nicephorus Phocas was semi soldier, semi recluse.[94] Many Byzantine people were greatly exercised when the ascetically inclined Emperor married the young and beautiful Theophano, the widow of Emperor Romanus II, who had a very dubious reputation. Traces of this feeling are found in the inscription on the sarcophagus of Nicephorus, which says that this emperor “vanquished all but woman.”[95]

The most important ecclesiastic measure of Nicephorus was his famous Novel of the year 964 with regard to monasteries and the philanthropic institutions connected with them. In the time of the Macedonian dynasty monastic landownership had assumed unusual proportions and frequently expanded at the expense of the free peasant holdings defended by several emperors of this dynasty. Even before the iconoclastic period, i.e., at the end of the seventh and the beginning of the eighth centuries, the eastern church had already been in possession of enormous landed estates. This led some scholars to compare the possessions of the eastern church with the similar landed wealth of the western church in the time of the Frankish kings, who complained of the emptiness of their treasury caused by the transfer of their lands into the hands of the clergy. The iconoclastic emperors of the eighth century waged a campaign against monasteries. Some were closed and their possessions confiscated by the treasury. This reform was simultaneous with the analogous secularization of church property in the western Frankish kingdom under the famous major-domo, Charles Martel. With the failure of iconoclasm and the rise of the Macedonian dynasty, the number of monasteries and the extent of their landed property began to increase very rapidly. Already the Novel of Romanus I Lecapenus had expressed the intention of limiting somewhat the growth of monasterial landed estates. A more decisive step in this direction was taken by Nicephorus Phocas in 964, when he published his Novel.

This Novel states that, since the “obvious disease” of excessive cupidity has become widely spread in the monasteries and “other sacred institutions,” and since

“the acquisition of many-acred enormous estates and the numerous cares of fruit trees” cannot be regarded as a commandment of the Apostles or as a tradition of the Fathers, the Emperor desires to “root out the Godhated evil of ambition,” and, in order to attain this end, forbids the founding of new monasteries, as well as the contribution of endowments and donations toward the upkeep of old monasteries, hospitals, and hostelries, or any gifts for the benefit of metropolitans and bishops.[96]

This harsh decree, which must have aroused great discontent among the

religious-minded population, could not very long remain in force, even imperfectly.

Basil II abrogated the Novel of Nicephorus Phocas “as a law outrageous and offensive not only to the churches and hospitals but also to God himself,”[97] He restored the monasterial laws of the time of Basil I and Leo VI the Wise, i.e., the Basilics and the Novel of Constantine Porphyrogenitus. One of the reasons for Basil’s abolition of the Novel of Nicephorus Phocas was his conviction that this law had brought upon the Empire the anger of God when, toward the end of the tenth century, both internal and external complications brought the Empire to the verge of ruin.

Nicephorus Phocas made an important step in the direction of strengthening Byzantine ecclesiastical organization in the southern Italian provinces of Apulia and Calabria, where papal and western influence was becoming very prominent in the second half of the tenth century, especially after the coronation of the German King Otto I and the growth of Longobardian power in the southern parts of Italy. Through his patriarch, Nicephorus Phocas prohibited the Latin ritual in Apulia and Calabria, and prescribed the observance of the Greek church ceremonial. This measure served as one of the many causes for the further alienation of the papacy from the Byzantine Empire.

During the last years of Nicephorus’ reign the pope began to address him as the

“Emperor of the Greeks,” while the title of “Emperor of the Romans,” an official title of the Byzantine rulers, he transferred to Otto of Germany. It is also interesting to note the attempt of Nicephorus Phocas to venerate as martyrs all soldiers who had fallen in the struggle with the infidels. This attempt was vehemently opposed by the patriarch and the bishops, and the Emperor was forced to give up his scheme.

The names of Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces are connected with the beginning of a new era in the life of Mount Athos, famous for its monasteries.

Individual hermits had lived on this mountain since the very beginning of monasticism in the fourth century, and several small and poor monasteries grew up there about the seventh century. During the period of the iconoclastic troubles of the eighth century the inaccessible districts of Mount Athos were sought as a refuge by many persecuted image-worshipers, who brought with them numerous church utensils, relics, and manuscripts. But life on Mount Athos was not safe because of the repeated maritime raids of the Arabs, during which many monks were killed or carried off as prisoners.

Previous to the middle of the tenth century Mount Athos had gone through several periods of desolation. In the time of Nicephorus Phocas, the Athenian monastic organizations became much stronger, especially when St. Athanasius founded the first large monastery with its cenobitic organization and new set of rules (typikon, in Greek, the usual name for monastic rules in the Byzantine Empire) which determined the further life of the monastery. The hermits (anchorites) of Mount Athos, opposed to the introduction of cenobitic monasticism, sent a complaint against Athanasius to John Tzimisces, the successor of Nicephorus Phocas, accusing Athanasius of breaking the ancient customs of the Holy Mountain (as Athos was called in the typikon of Athanasius). Tzimisces investigated this complaint and confirmed the ancient Athenian rule, which tolerated the existence of both anchorites and cenobites. Following the lead of St. Athanasius, many new monasteries, Greek and others, were founded. In the time of Basil II there was already one Iberian or Georgian monastery; emigrants from Italy founded two, a Roman and an Amalfitan. Bishop Porphyrius Uspensky, a profound Russian student of the Christian East, asserted that when the aged Athanasius died (about 1000 A.D). there were three thousand “various monks” on Mount Athos.[98] As early as the eleventh century there was a Russian Laura on this mountain. The name of Holy Mountain for Mount Athos, as an official term, appears for the first time in the second set of rules (typicon) given by Emperor Constantine IX Monomachus about the middle of the eleventh century.[99] The administration of the monasteries was entrusted to a council of Abbots (Igumens) headed by the first one among them, the protos (from the Greek πρωοτος, “the first”). The council was known as the protaton.

Thus, in the time of the Macedonian dynasty Mount Athos became a very important cultural center, not only for the Byzantine Empire, but for the world at large.

The problem of the division of churches which became so acute in the ninth century was brought to a final solution in the middle of the eleventh century. And while the main causes of this break were doctrinal, the final break was undoubtedly accelerated by the changed conditions in Italy in the middle of the eleventh century. In spite of the prohibitions of Nicephorus Phocas, Latin church influence continued to penetrate into the church organization of Apulia and Calabria. In the middle of the eleventh century the papal throne was occupied by Leo IX, whose interests were not limited by ecclesiastical affairs, but extended also into the field of political interests.

The Cluniac movement, which embraced wide circles of western European clergy, developed under the direct protection of the pope. The aim of this movement was to reform the church, raise its low morals, give firmness to its loose discipline, and destroy the worldly manners and customs which had permeated the life of the church (such as simony, wedlock of the clergy, secular investiture, etc.). Whenever the advocates of this movement penetrated into a province, they placed its spiritual life in direct dependence upon the pope. The remarkable progress made by the Cluniac movement in southern Italy greatly displeased the Eastern church. Leo IX was convinced that he had also a sound political basis for intervening in the affairs of southern Italy. For instance, during the exchange of messages between the pope and the patriarch of Constantinople (Michael Cerularius) the pope referred to the famous Donation of Constantine (Donatio Constantini), which had presumably placed in the hands of the bishop of Rome not only spiritual but also temporal power. Yet, in spite of the various complications which arose between the East and the West, a break between the churches was not to be expected in the near future, especially since the Byzantine Emperor Constantine IX Monomachus was inclined to seek a peaceful solution to the problem.

Papal legates were sent to Constantinople, among them the very haughty

Cardinal Humbert. All of them, especially Humbert, acted insolently and arrogantly toward the patriarch, forcing him to refuse to carry on further negotiations with them.

The patriarch also refused to make any concessions to Rome. Then, in the summer of the year 1054, the legates deposited upon the altar of St. Sophia a bull of excommunication, which proclaimed anathema for Patriarch “Michael and his followers, guilty of the above-mentioned errors and insolences … along with all heretics, together with the devil and his angels.”[100] In response to this action Michael Cerularius convoked a council at which he excommunicated the Roman legates and all people connected with them who had come to “the God-guarded city like a thunder, or a tempest, or a famine, or, better still, like wild boars, in order to overthrow truth.”[101]

Thus did the final separation of the western and eastern churches occur in the year 1054. The attitude of the three eastern patriarchs toward this break was exceedingly important for Michael Cerularius. Through the patriarch of Antioch he notified the patriarchs of Jerusalem and Alexandria of the separation of the churches, accompanying the news with fitting explanations. In spite of the scantiness of sources on this point, it may be stated with certainty that the three eastern patriarchates remained loyal to orthodoxy and supported the patriarch of Constantinople.[102]

For the patriarch of Constantinople the break of 1054 could be considered a great victory, which made him completely independent of the papal pretensions of the West.

His authority became much greater in the Slavonic world and in the three eastern patriarchates. But for the political life of the Empire this break was fatal, because it definitely destroyed all possibilities of any lasting future political understanding between the Empire and the West, which remained under the strong influence of the papacy. And this was fatal because the Byzantine Empire was at times greatly in need of western help, especially when the eastern Turkish menace arose. Bréhier’s appraisal of the consequences of this break was; “It was this schism, which, by rendering fruitless all efforts at conciliation between the Empire of Constantinople and the West, paved the way for the fall of the Empire,”[103]

The final break of 1054 was felt immediately only in official circles by the clergy and the government. The great mass of the population reacted very calmly to this separation, and for some time even remained unaware of the distinction between the teachings of Constantinople and of Rome. The attitude of Russia to this phenomenon was interesting. The Russian metropolitans of the eleventh century, appointed or confirmed by Constantinople, quite naturally accepted the Byzantine point of view, but the mass of Russian people had no grievances whatever against the Latin church and could find no errors in its teachings. For example, the Russian prince of the eleventh century appealed to the pope for help against the usurper, and this appeal did not arouse any surprise or protest.[104]

Legislation of the Macedonian emperors and social relations within the Empire.

Prochiron and Epanagoge. — The time of the Macedonian dynasty was a period of stirring legislative activity. Basil I desired to create a general code of Graeco-Roman or Byzantine law containing a chronological arrangement of legislative acts, both old and new. In other words, he planned to revive the legislative work of Justinian by adapting it to changed conditions, and to add to it the laws which had appeared in later times.

The four parts of the Justinian code, written mostly in Latin and very bulky, were usually studied only in their Greek abridged versions, or in expositions, abstracts, and commentaries based on the Latin original. Many of these, though widely used, were very inaccurate and frequently mutilated the original texts. Basil I intended to exclude the old laws annulled by later Novels, and to introduce a number of new laws. The Latin terms and expressions retained in the new code were to be explained in Greek, for Greek was to be the language of Basil’s legislative work. The Emperor himself characterized his attempted reform in the field of law as “a purging of ancient laws”

(ανακαθαρσις των παλαιων νομων).[105]

Knowing that the completion of the projected code would take much time, Basil issued meanwhile a smaller work entitled the Prochiron (ο προχειρος), i.e., a manual of the science of law. This was to supply people interested in legal works with a brief account of the laws by which the Empire was to be ruled. The preface to the Prochiron refers to these laws as laws establishing in the Empire righteousness, “by which alone, according to Solomon, a nation is exalted” (Proverbs 14:34).[106] The Prochiron was subdivided into forty titles (tituli) and contained the principal norms of civil law and a complete list of penalties for various offenses and crimes. Its main source, especially for the first twenty-one sections, were the Institutes of Justinian. Other parts of the Justinian code were used to a much lesser degree. So usual was the recourse to the Greek revised and abridged versions of this older code that even the compilers of the Prochiron resorted to them rather than to the Latin originals. The Prochiron refers to the Ecloga of Leo and Constantine as a “subversion of the good laws which was useless for the empire,” and states that “it would be unwise to keep it in force.”[107] Yet in spite of this harsh judgment, the Ecloga of the Isaurian emperors was apparently so practical and popular that the Prochiron used much of its contents, especially in the titles following the twenty-first. According to the introduction to the Prochiron, all persons interested in a more detailed study of active law were supposed to use the larger code of sixty books, also compiled in Basil’s time.[108]

By the end of Basil’s reign a new volume of laws was compiled and published under the title of the Epanagoge (η επαναγωγη, “introduction”). Several scholars have somewhat incorrectly considered this legislative work as merely a revised and enlarged Prochiron.[109] According to its preface, the Epanagoge was an introduction to the forty volumes of “purified” older laws[110] collected also in Basil’s time; it, too, was divided into forty titles. Just what these two collections — one in sixty books mentioned in the Prochiron, the other in forty books mentioned in the Epanagoge — represented, is not certain. They were probably not finished for publication in Basil’s time but formed the foundation of the Basilics published by his successor, Leo VI. Some scholars believe that the Epanagoge was never really published, and remained only in the form of a draft,[111] while others hold that this work was an officially published law.[112]

The Epanagoge differs very greatly from the Prochiron. In the first place, its first part contains entirely new and very interesting chapters on imperial authority, on the power of the patriarch, and other civil and ecclesiastic officials, which gives a very clear picture of the foundations of the public and social structure of the Empire and of the relations of the church to the state.[113] In the second place, the materials borrowed for the Epanagoge from the Prochiron are arranged in a new manner. It is almost certain that Patriarch Photius took part in the compilation of the Epanagoge, and his influence is especially evident in the definition of the relation of imperial power to the power of the patriarch, and in the treatment of the position to be occupied by the ecumenical patriarch of New Rome with regard to all the other patriarchs, who were to be considered only as local hierarchs. Following in the footsteps of the Prochiron, the introduction to the Epanagoge refers to the Ecloga of the iconoclastic emperors as “the gossip of the Isaurians, intended to oppose the divine doctrine and to destroy the salutary laws.”[114] This part of the Epanagoge speaks also of the complete abrogation of the Ecloga, and yet uses some of its materials.

It may be mentioned here that the Epanagoge, together with a number of other Byzantine legal collections, has been translated into Slavonic, and many extracts from it are to be found in Slavonic codes and in the Russian Book of Rules (the so-called Kormchaia Kniga), or the Administrative Code, mentioned as early as the tenth century.

The ideas expressed in the Epanagoge exerted great influence upon the later history of Russia. For instance, the documents concerning the cause of Patriarch Nikon in the time of Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich (seventeenth century) contain direct quotations from the rulings of the Epanagoge with reference to the authority of the Emperor.[115]

The Prochiron and the Epanagoge, together with the work on the “purification of ancient law,” represent the successful achievements of the time of Basil I, Going back, so to speak, to the elements of the somewhat neglected Roman law, Basil revived Justinian law and brought it closer to the life of his time by adding later laws called forth by changed social and economic conditions.

The Basilics and the Tipucitus. — Basil’s accomplishments in the field of law made it possible for his son and successor, Leo VI the Wise, to publish the Basilics (τα Βασιλικα), which represented the most complete monument of Graeco-Roman or Byzantine law.

In it all parts of Justinian’s code are reshaped and combined into one code written in Greek. For this purpose a commission of qualified jurisconsults was appointed. The name of the Basilics originated not, as was formerly incorrectly supposed, from the name of Basil I, in whose time much material had been prepared for them, but from the Greek word basileus, meaning tsar, emperor; hence the proper translation for the title would be “Imperial Laws.”

The compilation of Leo VI, subdivided into sixty books, followed the aim set out by Basil I: it strove to revive the legislative work of Justinian by omitting laws which had lost their significance or were not applicable to the changed conditions of Byzantine life. The Basilics do not, therefore, represent a complete, literal translation of the Justinian code, but an adaptation of it to the new conditions of life. Some Novels and other legal documents published after Justinian, including even several Novels of Basil I and Leo VI, were also used as sources for the Basilics.[116] No one manuscript has preserved the whole of the Basilics, but various manuscripts have preserved parts, so that more than two-thirds of the whole exists.

From the point of view of the reconstruction of the lost books of the Basilics a work of the eleventh or twelfth century is very important, the Tipucitus (Τιπουκειτος),[117] attributed to a Byzantine jurisconsult, Patzes.[118] The book is a table of contents of the Basilics, giving the rubrics and most important chapters under each title and indicating analogous passages in all of them. The Tipucitus has not yet been published in its entirety.[119]

The revived classical code of the Basilics, however, carefully adapted to existing conditions, still remained artificial and inadequate. That is why many parts of the Ecloga remained in force even after the appearance of the Basilics and were later revised and enlarged many times. The Basilics, however, is a colossal achievement in the domain of Byzantine jurisprudence and culture, ranking after the Corpus Iuris Civilis. It is still a book almost under seven seals, and a scientific and exhaustive study of it will undoubtedly reveal new horizons and wide perspectives.[120]

The Book of the Eparch. — To the time of Leo VI may perhaps be referred a most interesting document, “an invaluable treasure for the internal history of Constantinople,”[121] the so-called Book of the Eparch or Book of the Prefect, discovered in Geneva by the Swiss scholar, Nicole, at the end of the nineteenth century.[122] The date of this document has not been definitely established. It may have been compiled during the reign of Leo VI or later in the tenth century, perhaps even under Nicephorus Phocas (after 963).[123]

The rank of eparch or prefect of Constantinople was applied in the Byzantine Empire to the governor of the capital; he was entrusted with almost unlimited authority, and stood, so to speak, on the highest rank of the Byzantine bureaucratic ladder. It was his duty first of all to maintain public order and safety in the capital, and for this purpose he had at his disposal a large body of employees known as the secretum of the eparch. Besides these duties, he also had jurisdiction over the corporations and guilds of craftsmen and traders in the capital. The Book of the Eparch throws much light on this side of Constantinopolitan life, scarcely touched upon by earlier sources. It lists the various ranks of craftsmen and traders, and gives an account of the internal organization of their guilds, of the government’s attitude to them, and so forth. The list of corporations in this document is headed by an organization which in the modern conception would not fall into the general class of craft or trade associations, namely by the corporation of notaries (οι ταβουλλαριοι, tabularii), who, among other things, were required to be familiar with the sixty books of the Basilics.

Then follow the guilds of jewelers, silk-producers, silk-weavers, linen-makers, makers of wax, soap, and leather, and the bakers, The list of traders found in the Book of the Eparch speaks of money-changers, traders in silk goods and dresses, dealers in raw silk, sellers of perfumes, wax, and soap; grocers, butchers, sellers of pigs, fish, horses, and bread, and tavern keepers. Each corporation enjoyed a monopoly, and severe penalty was provided for anyone who attempted to pursue two trades, even if they were very similar. The internal life of the guilds, their organization and work, the grant of markets, the regulation of prices and profit, export and import from and to the capital, and many other problems were regulated under very strict government supervision.

Free trade and free production were unknown in the Byzantine Empire. The eparch of Constantinople was the only high official who had the right to intervene personally, or through his representatives, in the life of the guilds and regulate their production or trade.[124] The account of the Byzantine guilds found in this source provides data for an interesting comparison with the medieval guilds of western Europe.

Over a hundred novels from the period of Leon VI exist, which supply rich material for the internal history of the Byzantine Empire at the end of the ninth and the beginning of the tenth century, and which have not yet been adequately studied and utilized.[125]

The “powerful” and the “poor”. — The legislative works of Basil I and Leo VI in the ninth and tenth centuries brought about a temporary revival in the field of juridical literature which expressed itself, on the one hand, in the appearance of numerous commentaries and interpretations of the Basilics (such commentaries were usually known as scholia), and, on the other hand, in the publication of various abridged collections and manuals. The tenth century was marked also by an exceedingly interesting tendency in the legislative work of the Byzantine emperors, who were compelled to express through a number of Novels their reaction to one of the most acute questions in the social and economic life of that period, namely, the problem of the excessive development of large landownership, highly detrimental to small peasant landholding and the free peasant community.

In the time of the Macedonian dynasty the class of the “powerful” (δυνατοι), or magnates, had again grown very prominent. At the other extreme stood the class of the

“poor” people (πενητες), who may be compared with the poor people (pauperes) of medieval western Europe, and the orphans (suroti) of the Moscow period in Russian history. The poor people of the Byzantine Empire of the tenth century were those small peasant owners and members of organized communes whom heavy taxes and various duties forced to appeal for protection to the powerful magnates and pay for that protection the price of their freedom and independence.

The rise of the powerful in the tenth century, seemingly sudden at first glance, may be partly explained by the aftereffects of the insurrection of Thomas in the third decade of the ninth century. This was especially true of Asia Minor, where the number of large landowners grew to enormous proportions in the tenth century. The severe and lasting nature of this insurrection caused the ruin of a vast number of small landholders, forcing them to transfer their property to their wealthy neighbors. But this was only one of the many causes of the development of large estates. On the whole, the problem of the growth of large landownership in the Byzantine Empire during the ninth and tenth centuries has not yet been sufficiently elucidated.

The rulers of the Macedonian dynasty, at least those from Romanus Lecapenus (919-44) to Basil II, who died in 1025, energetically defended the cause of the small landowners and the peasant communes against the infringements of the powerful. The reasons must be sought in the excessive growth of the large landholdings. The powerful, who controlled a vast number of serfs and immense landed estates, could easily organize and subsidize armies composed of their dependents, and were thus enabled to conspire against the central government. The emperors, by their efforts to crush the strength of the powerful and uphold the interests of the small peasantry and the peasant commune, were at the same time defending their own power and throne, seriously threatened in the tenth century, especially by Asia Minor.

The emperors were also compelled to defend the so-called “military holdings.”

Even in the time of the Roman Empire it had been customary to assign land to soldiers on the border lines of the Empire, and sometimes even within the Empire, on the condition that they should continue to serve in the army. These allotments survived until the tenth century, although they were in a state of decline. They, too, were threatened in the ninth and tenth centuries by the powerful, who strove to buy up these military estates just as they did the small peasant holdings. The emperors of this period also made attempts to defend these military fiefs.

The measures taken by the rulers of the Macedonian dynasty in defense of peasant and military landholding were in reality very simple. They prohibited the powerful from buying their way into peasant communities or from acquiring peasant and military allotments. The government’s campaign in this direction was initiated by the publication of a Novel in the year 922 by Romanus I Lecapenus, the co-regent of Constantine Porphyrogenitus. This Novel proposed three regulations: (1) in any sale and temporary or hereditary lease of real estate, i.e., land, houses, vineyards, etc., the preferential right would belong to the peasants and their free commune; (2) the powerful would be forbidden to acquire the property of the poor in any manner, whether it be by donation, will, patronage, purchase, rent, or exchange; (3) the military allotments alienated in any manner during the last thirty years, and also those which were about to be alienated, would be returned to their original owners without any compensation to the holders.

The terrible disasters which occurred in the Empire soon after the publication of this Novel put these measures of Romanus to a difficult trial. The untimely frosts, terrible famine, and pestilence made the lot of the peasants very hard. The powerful took advantage of the desperate position of the peasants and bought up their holdings at very low prices, or for mere trifling amounts of bread. This shocking open practice of the powerful forced Romanus to publish in 934 a second Novel in which he harshly reproved the cruel avidity of the wealthy class, stating that they were “to the unhappy villages like a plague or gangrene, which had eaten its way into the body of the village, bringing it closer to final peril.”[126] This Novel provided that the peasants from whom the powerful had bought land against the law during or after the year of famine could redeem their holdings at the price at which they had sold it; the new owners were to be removed immediately after payment was made by the peasant. After a brief remark about the successful operations of the Byzantine army, the Novel contained the following concluding statement: “If we have attained such success in our struggle with our external enemies, then how can we fail to crush our domestic and internal enemies of nature, men, and good order, through our rightful desire of freedom and the sharpness of the present law?”[127]

But this decree of Romanus failed to halt the development of large landownership and the dissolution of small peasant households and communities. In a subsequent Novel of Constantine Porphyrogenitus it was officially stated that the older laws were not observed. The restrictions placed upon the rich in Constantine’s reign surpassed those of Romanus. Nicephorus Phocas, who rose to the throne through his marriage to the widow of Romanus II, was a member of the powerful class, and, quite naturally, understood and favored the interests of that class more than any of his predecessors. In the words of V. G. Vasilievsky, the Novel of Nicephorus Phocas

“unquestionably indicates a certain reaction in the field of legislation in favor of the powerful class, even though it speaks only of an equally just treatment of both sides.”[128] This Novel stated that “ancient legislators considered all rulers as champions of justice, calling them a general and equal benefit to all,” and indicates that the predecessors of Nicephorus Phocas have deviated from this original ideal. “They completely neglected to care for the prosperity of the powerful, and did not even permit them to remain in possession of what they had already acquired.”[129] By the abrogation of previous rulings, Nicephorus Phocas gave new freedom to the lawlessness and growth of the powerful class.

The sternest foe of the powerful class was Basil II Bulgaroctonus. Two leaders of the powerful families of Asia Minor, Bardas Phocas and Bardas Sclerus, rebelled against the Emperor and nearly deprived him of the throne. Only the intervention of the Russian auxiliary corps sent by Prince Vladimir prevented the fall of the Emperor. It is not surprising, therefore, that Basil II viewed the large landowners as his most dangerous enemies, and was very harsh and unscrupulous in his treatment of them.

Once, in passing through Cappadocia, Basil and his entire army were lavishly entertained in the enormous estate of Eustathius Maleinus. Suspecting that his host might be a possible rival, and fearing that he might attempt to follow in the footsteps of Phocas and Sclerus, the Emperor took him to the capital and forced him to remain there to the end of his days. After the death of Maleinus, his vast estates were confiscated. A similar incident was related in the Novel itself. The story stated that the Emperor heard that a certain Philocales of Asia Minor, a poor peasant by birth, had become famous and wealthy, attained high rank in service, and had seized the village in which he lived and transformed it into his own estate, changing even its name. Basil ordered that all the magnificent buildings which belonged to Philocales should be completely destroyed and razed to the ground and the land returned to the poor. By the orders of the Emperor Philocales himself was again reduced to the state of a simple peasant.[130] There is no doubt that the families of Phocas, Sclerus, and Maleinus, and such individuals as Philocales, were only a few of the large landowning class of Asia Minor.

The famous Novel of 996 abolished the forty years’ prescription which protected the rights of the powerful who had illegally seized peasant estates and who tried “to extend this term either by means of gifts, or by means of power, in order to acquire final ownership of that which they had acquired from the poor by wicked means.”[131]

The estates acquired by the powerful from village communities previous to the issue of Romanus’ first law were to remain in the hands of the powerful only if the latter could prove their rights of ownership by written evidence or by a sufficient number of witnesses. The Novel stated that the demands of the treasury could not consider any prescription; hence the state “may claim its rights by going back to the time of Caesar Augustus.” The problem of military fiefs also compelled the Macedonian rulers to issue several novels.

In addition to the Novel of 996, Basil II issued a decree concerning the tax called allelengyon, meaning mutual warrant (αλληλεγγυον). As far back as the early part of the ninth century (in so far as the brief statement on this point in one of the sources shows)[133] Emperor Nicephorus I issued orders which placed upon their richer neighbors the responsibility for the full payment of taxes of the poor. The allelengyon as a tax was nothing new. It represented a continuation, and at the same time a variation, of the late Roman system of the epibole (see in discussion of Anastasius):

“The allelengyon system of payment imposed excessively heavy charges on the peasantry, and this sufficiently explains why membership of a village community was considered burdensome, and why a peasant usually preferred to own a detached property.”[134] The orders of Nicephorus I aroused so much hatred toward the Emperor that his successors were apparently compelled to forsake this tax. When the need of money for the upkeep of the Bulgarian war became very great and the desire to deal the powerful a heavy blow had grown very strong in Basil II, he revived the law which made the wealthy landowners responsible for the taxes of the poor, if the latter were unable to pay them. If this measure, so strongly defended by Basil II, had remained in force for a long time, it might have gone far to ruin the powerful owners of both ecclesiastical and temporal estates. But the allelengyon was enforced only for a brief period of time. In the first half of the eleventh century Romanus III Argyrus, who acquired the throne through his marriage to Zoë, the daughter of Constantine VIII, urged by his interest in the welfare of the powerful and by his desire to find a way for reconciliation with the higher clergy and landed nobility, repealed the hated allelengyon.

On the whole, the decrees of the Macedonian emperors of the tenth century, though limiting to some extent the encroachments of the powerful, accomplished very few definite results. In the eleventh century the famous Novels were gradually forgotten and abandoned. The same century witnessed a material change in the internal policy of the Byzantine emperors, who began to favor and openly protect large landownership, hastening the wide development of serfdom. Still, the free peasant commune and the free small landowners did not disappear entirely from the Empire.

These institutions continued to exist and will be discussed in connection with later periods.

Provincial administration.

The provincial administration of the Empire in the ninth century and in the time of the Macedonian dynasty continued to develop along the path of theme organization, discussed in an earlier chapter. This development expressed itself, on the one hand, in the further breaking up of the older themes and consequently in the increase in the number of themes, and, on the other hand, in elevating to the position of themes districts which previously had borne some other name, such as clisurae.

Both exarchates, which are considered by historians as the true precursors of themes, had become alienated from the Empire: the Carthagenian or African exarchate was conquered by the Arabs in the middle of the seventh century, while the Ravenna exarchate was occupied in the first half of the eighth century by the Longobards, who were soon forced to cede the conquered territories of this exarchate to the Frankish king, Pippin the Brief. He, in his turn, handed them over to the pope in 754, thereby laying the foundations for the famous medieval papal state. In the seventh century the Byzantine Empire had, in addition to the exarchates, five military governments which did not yet bear the name of themes. At the beginning of the ninth century there were ten themes: five Asiatic, four European, and one maritime. On the basis of data found in the works of the Arabian geographer of the ninth century, Ibn-Khurdadhbah, and in other sources, historians claim that there were twenty-five military districts in the ninth century, but that not all of these were themes. Among them were included two clisurarchiae, one ducatus, and two archontatus. The ceremonial treatise of precedence at court, written by the court marshal (atriclines), Philotheus, in 899 and usually included as part of the so-called book on Ceremonies of the Byzantine Court of the time of Constantine Porphyrogenitus, lists twenty-five themes.[135] In his work Concerning Themes (tenth century), Constantine Porphyrogenitus gives a list of twenty-nine themes: seventeen Asiatic, including the four sea themes, and twelve European, including the Sicilian theme, part of which formed the theme of Calabria in the tenth century after the Arabian conquest of Sicily proper. The twelve European themes included also the theme of Cherson (Korsun) in the Crimea, founded probably as far back as the ninth century, and frequently referred to as “the Klimata” or “Gothic Klimata.” The list published by V. Beneševič and attributed to the reign of Romanus Lecapenus before 921-927 gives thirty themes.[136] In the eleventh century the number rose to thirty-eight.[137] Most of them were governed by a military governor, the strategus. Because of the frequent changes in the number of themes, and because of the lack of sources on the historical development of the theme organization, knowledge of this important side of Byzantine life is still very limited and inexact.

Something should be said of the clisurae and the clisurarchs. The name clisura, which even today means a “mountain pass” in Greek, was applied in the Byzantine period to a “frontier fortress” with limited neighboring territory, or, more generally, to

“a small province” ruled by a clisurarch, whose authority was nor as great as that of the strategus, and did not, in all probability, combine both military and civil responsibilities. Some of the clisurae, as, for instance, those of Seleucia, Sebastea in Asia Minor, and a few others, eventually rose in importance by being transformed into themes.

The strategi who stood at the head of the themes had a large body of

subordinates. At least in the time of Leo VI the Wise the strategi of the eastern themes, including the sea themes, were receiving definite maintenance from the government treasury, while the strategi of the western themes were supported by the revenues of their respective districts and not by the treasury.

The theme organization had reached the highest stage of its development in the time of the Macedonian dynasty. After this period the system began to decline gradually, partly because of the conquests of the Seljuq Turks in Asia Minor, and partly because of the changes which took place in Byzantine life during the period of crusades.

The time of troubles (1056-81)

The emperors.

As early as 1025, after the death of Basil II Bulgaroctonus, the Empire entered upon a period of troubles, frequent changes of accidental rulers, and the beginning of a general decline. Empress Zoë succeeded in raising each of her three husbands to the throne. In the year 1056, with the death of Empress Theodora, Zoë’s sister, the Macedonian dynasty was definitely extinguished. A period of troubles set in and lasted for twenty-five years (1056-81), It ended only with the accession of Alexius Comnenus, the founder of the famous dynasty of the Comneni.

This period, characterized externally by frequent changes on the throne, which was occupied for the most part by incapable emperors, was a very significant period in the history of the Byzantine Empire; for during these twenty-five years those conditions developed in the Empire which later called forth the crusade movements in the West.

During this period the external enemies of the Byzantine Empire exerted

pressure on all sides: the Normans were active in the west, the Patzinaks and Uzes in the north, and the Seljuq Turks in the east. In the end the territory of the Byzantine Empire was considerably reduced.

Another distinguishing feature of this period was the struggle waged by the military element and the large landowning nobility (especially that of Asia Minor) against the central bureaucratic government. This struggle between the provinces and the capital ended, after a number of fluctuations, in the victory of the army and the landowners, which was a victory of the provinces over the capital. Alexius Comnenus was at the head of the victorious side.

All the Emperors of the period of troubles of the eleventh century were of Greek origin. In the year 1056 the aged Empress Theodora was compelled by the court party to select as her successor the aged patrician, Michael Stratioticus. Theodora died soon after her choice had been made, and Michael VI Stratioticus, the candidate of the court party, remained on the throne for about a year (1056-57). Against him an opposition formed, headed by the army of Asia Minor, which proclaimed as emperor their general, Isaac Comnenus, a representative of a large landowning family famous for his struggle with the Turks. This was the first victory of the military party over the central government during the period of troubles. Michael Stratioticus was forced to abdicate and spend the remainder of his days as a private individual.

This victory of the military party was short-lived. Isaac Comnenus ruled only from 1057 to 1059, and then renounced the throne and took holy orders. The reasons for his abdication are still not very clear. It may be that Isaac Comnenus was a victim of skillful plotting on the part of those who were dissatisfied with his independent active rule. It is known that he considered the interests of the treasury of primary importance, and ;n order to increase its income he laid his hands upon lands illegally acquired by large landowners, secular as well as ecclesiastic, and reduced the salaries of high officials. It seems probable that the famous scholar and statesman, Michael Psellus, had something to do with this conspiracy against Isaac Comnenus.

Isaac was succeeded by Constantine X Ducas (1059-67). This gifted financier and defender of true Justice devoted all his attention to the affairs of civil government. The army and military affairs in general interested him very little. His reign may be characterized as a reaction of the civil administration against the military element which had triumphed in the time of Isaac Comnenus, or as the reaction of the capital against the provinces. It was “the unhappy time of the domination of bureaucrats, rhetoricians, and scholars.”[138]And yet the threatening advances of the Patzinaks and Uzes from the north and the Seljuq Turks from the east did not justify the antimilitary nature of Constantine’s administration. The Empire was urgently in need of a ruler who could organize the necessary resistance to the enemy. Even such an anti-militarist of the eleventh century as Michael Psellus wrote: “The army is the backbone of the Roman state.”[139] In view of this a strong opposition was formed against the Emperor. When he died in 1067 imperial authority passed for a few months to his wife, Eudocia Macrembolitissa. The military party compelled her to marry the capable general Romanus Diogenes, born in Cappadocia. He ascended the throne as Romanus IV

Diogenes and ruled from 1067 to 1071.

His accession marks the second victory of the military party. The four years’ rule of this soldier-emperor ended very tragically for him when he was captured and became a prisoner of the Turkish sultan. Great tumult arose in the capital when it received the news of the Emperor’s captivity. After some hesitation a new emperor was proclaimed, the son of Eudocia Macrembolitissa by Constantine Ducas, her first husband, and a pupil of Michael Psellus. He is known in history as Michael VII Ducas, surnamed Parapinakes.[140] Eudocia found protection by assuming the veil. When Romanus had been set free by the Sultan and had returned to the capital, he found the throne occupied by a new ruler, and in spite of the fact that he was given the assurance o£ personal safety upon his return, he was barbarously blinded and ‘died shortly after.

Michael VII Ducas Parapinakes (1071-78) was fond of learning, scholarly disputes, and verse-writing, and was not at all inclined toward military activity. He restored the bureaucratic regime of his father, Constantine Ducas, which was unsuitable to the external position of the Empire. The new successes of the Turks and Patzinaks were persistently demanding that the Empire be guided by a soldier-emperor supported by the army, which alone could save it from ruin. In this respect “the spokesman of popular needs, who gave hopes of fulfilling them”[141] was the strategus of one of the themes in Asia Minor, Nicephorus Botaniates. He was proclaimed emperor in Asia Minor and forced Parapinakes to assume the cowl and retire to a monastery. He then entered the capital and was crowned by the patriarch. He remained on the throne from 1078 until 1081, but as a result of old age and physical weakness he was unable to deal with either internal or external difficulties. At the same time the large landowning aristocracy in the provinces did not recognize his rights to the throne, and many pretenders who disputed these rights appeared in various parts of the Empire. One of them, Alexius Comnenus, a nephew of the former Emperor, Isaac Comnenus, who was also related to the ruling family of Ducas, showed much skill in utilizing the existing conditions for reaching his goal, the throne. Botaniates had abdicated and retired to a monastery, where he later took holy orders. In the year 1081 Alexius Comnenus was crowned emperor and put an end to the period of troubles. The accession of this first ruler of the dynasty of the Comneni in the eleventh century marked still another victory of the military party and large provincial landowners, It was very natural that during such frequent changes of rulers and unceasing hidden and open strife for the throne the external policy of the Empire should have suffered greatly and caused Byzantium to descend from the high position it had occupied in the medieval world.

This decline was furthered by the complicated and dangerous external conditions brought about by the successful operations of the main enemies of the Empire: the Seljuq Turks in the east, the Patzinaks and Uzes in the north, and the Normans in the west.

The Seljuq Turks.

The Byzantine Empire had known the Turks for a long time. A project of a Turko-Byzantine alliance existed in the second half of the sixth century. The Turks also served in Byzantium as mercenaries as well as the imperial bodyguard.[142] They were numerous in the ranks of the Arabian army on the eastern borders of the Empire, and they took an active part in the taking as well as the plundering of Amorion in 838. But these relations and conflicts with the Turks were of little or no consequence to the Empire until the eleventh century. With the appearance of the Seljuq Turks on the eastern border in the first half of the eleventh century conditions changed.[143]

The Seljuqs, or Seljucids, were the descendants of the Turkish prince Seljuq, who was in the service of a Turkestan khan about the year 1000. From the Kirghiz steppes Seljuq had migrated with his tribe to Transoxiana, near Bukhara, where he and his people embraced Islam. In a short period of time the strength of the Seljuqs had increased to such an extent that the two grandsons of Seljuq were able to lead the savage Turkish hordes into attacks on Khorasan (Khurasan).

The aggressive movement of the Seljuqs in western Asia created a new epoch in Muslim, as well as in Byzantine, history. In the eleventh century the caliphate was no longer a united whole. Spain, Africa, and Egypt had long since led a political life independent of the caliph of Bagdad. Syria, Mesopotamia, and Persia were also divided among various independent dynasties and separate rulers. After their conquest of Persia in the middle of the eleventh century the Seljuqs penetrated into Mesopotamia and entered Bagdad. From now on the caliph of Bagdad was under the protection of the Seljucids, whose sultans did not reside at Bagdad, but exercised their authority in this important city through a general. Shortly after this, when the strength of the Seljuq Turks increased still more because of the arrival of new Turkish tribes, they conquered all of western Asia, from Afghanistan to the borders of the Byzantine Empire in Asia Minor, and the Egyptian caliphate of the Fatimids.

From the middle of the eleventh century the Seljuqs became a very prominent factor in the history of the Byzantine Empire, for they began to menace its border provinces in Asia Minor and in the Caucasus. In the fourth decade of the eleventh century Constantine IX Monomachus annexed to the Empire Armenia with its new capital, Ani. Armenia was therefore no longer a buffer state between the Empire and the Turks; when it was attacked, Byzantine territory was attacked. Moreover in this attack the Turks were very successful. Turkish troops were also advancing into Asia Minor.

During the very active, though very brief, rule of Isaac Comnenus, the eastern border was well defended against the attacks of the Seljuqs. But after his fall the antimilitary policy of Constantine Ducas weakened the military power of Asia Minor and facilitated the advance of the Turks into Byzantine districts. It is not unlikely, according to one historian, that the government viewed “the misfortunes of these stubborn and arrogant provinces” with some pleasure. “The East, like Italy, paid a heavy price for the mistakes of the central government.”[144] Under Constantine X Ducas, and during the subsequent seven months’ rule of his wife, Eudocia Macrembolitissa, the second of the Seljuq sultans, Alp Arslan, conquered Armenia and devastated part of Syria, Cilicia, and Cappadocia. In Caesarea, the capital of Cappadocia, the Turks pillaged the main sanctuary of the city, the Church of Basil the Great, where the relics of the saint were kept.[145] A Byzantine chronicler wrote of the time of Michael Parapinakes (1071-1078):

“Under this emperor almost the whole world, on land and sea, occupied by the impious barbarians, has been destroyed and has become empty of population, for all Christians have been slain by them and all houses and settlements with their churches have been devastated by them in the whole East, completely crushed and reduced to

nothing.”[146]

The military party found a husband for Eudocia in the person of Romanus

Diogenes. The new Emperor conducted several campaigns against the Turks and achieved some success in the early battles. His army, made up of various tribes —

Macedonian Slavs, Bulgarians, Uzes, Patzinaks, Varangians, and Franks (a name applied in this period to all western European nationalities) — lacked good training and solid organization and was not able to offer strong resistance to the rapid movement of the Turkish cavalry and their quick and bold nomadic attacks. The most untrustworthy part of the Byzantine army was the Uze and Patzinak Sight cavalry, which, in the course of their conflicts with the Turks, immediately felt a tribal kinship with the latter.

The last campaign of Romanus Diogenes ended with the fatal battle of 1071 near Manzikert (Manazkert, now Melazgherd), in Armenia, north of Lake Van. Shortly before the combat the detachment of Uzes with their leader went over to the side of the Turks.

This caused great unrest in the army of Romanus Diogenes. At the crisis of the battle one of the Byzantine generals began to spread the rumor of the defeat of the imperial army. The soldiers became panic-stricken and turned to flight. Romanus, who fought heroically throughout the battle, was captured by the Turks, and upon his arrival in the enemy’s camp was greeted with great honor by Alp Arslan.

The victor and the vanquished negotiated an “eternal” peace and a treaty of friendship whose main points, as indicated in Arabian sources, were: (1) Romanus Diogenes obtained his freedom by the payment of a definite sum of money; (2) Byzantium was to pay a large annual tribute to Alp Arslan; (3) Byzantium was to return all Turkish captives.[147] Romanus upon his return to Constantinople found the throne occupied by Michael VII Ducas; Romanus was blinded by his foes, and died shortly after.

The battle of Manzikert had marked consequences for the Empire. Although according to the treaty the Byzantine Empire probably ceded no territory to Alp Arslan,[148] its losses were very great, for the army which defended the borders of Asia Minor was so completely destroyed that the Empire was unable to resist the later advance of the Turks there. The woeful condition of the Empire was further aggravated by the weak antimilitary administration of Michael VII Ducas. The defeat at Manzikert was a death blow to Byzantine domination in Asia Minor, that most essential part of the Byzantine Empire. After the year 1071 there was no longer a Byzantine army to resist the Turks. One scholar goes so far as to say that after this battle all of the Byzantine state was in the hands of the Turks.[149] Another historian calls the battle “the death hour of the great Byzantine Empire,” and continues that “although its consequences, in all their horrible aspects, were not felt at once, the East of Asia Minor, Armenia, and Cappadocia — the provinces which were the homes of so many famous emperors and warriors and which constituted the main strength of the Empire — were lost forever, and the Turk set up his nomadic tents on the ruins of ancient Roman glory. The cradle of civilization fell prey to Islamic barbarism and to complete brutalization.”[150]

During the years which elapsed from the catastrophe of 1071 to the accession of Alexius Comnenus in 1081, the Turks took advantage of the unprotected position of the Empire and the internal strife of its parties, who frequently appealed for aid, and penetrated still deeper into the life of Byzantium. Separate detachments of Turks reached as far as the western provinces of Asia Minor. The Turkish troops which aided Nicephorus Botaniates in his seizure of the throne accompanied him as far as Nicaea and Chrysopolis (now Scutari).

In addition, after the death of Romanus Diogenes and Alp Arslan, neither Turks nor Empire considered themselves bound by the treaty negotiated by these rulers. The Turks utilized every occasion for pillaging Byzantine provinces in Asia Minor, and, according to a contemporary Byzantine chronicler, entered these provinces not as momentary bandits but as permanent masters.[151] This statement, however, is exaggerated, at least for the period prior to 1081. As J. Laurent asserted, “In 1080, seven years after their first appearance on the shores of the Bosphorus, the Turks had yet been established nowhere; they had founded no state; they had been always merely errant and disorderly pillagers.”[152] The successor of Alp Arslan entrusted military leadership in Asia Minor to Suleiman-ibn-Qutalmish, who occupied the central part of Asia Minor and later founded there the sultanate of Rum, or Asia Minor.[153] Since its capital was the richest and most beautiful Byzantine city in Asia Minor, Iconium (now Konia), this state of the Seljuqs is often called the sultanate of Iconium.[154] From its central position in Asia Minor the new sultanate spread out as far as the Black Sea in the north and the Mediterranean coast in the south, and became a dangerous rival of the Empire. The Turkish troops continued to move farther to the west, and the forces of the Byzantine Empire were not strong enough to oppose them.

The onward movement of the Seljuqs and perhaps the menacing advances of the northern Uzes and Patzinaks toward the capital compelled Michael VII Ducas Parapinakes, in the early part of his reign, to appeal for western aid by sending a message to Pope Gregory VII, promising to repay the pope’s assistance by bringing about a union of the churches. Gregory VII reacted favorably and sent a number of messages to the princes of western Europe and to “all Christians (ad omnes christianos), in which he stated that “the pagans were exerting great pressure upon the Christian Empire and had devastated with unheard-of cruelty everything almost as far as the walls of Constantinople.”[155] But Gregory’s appeals brought about no material results, and no aid was sent from the West. Meanwhile, the pope became involved in the long and severe struggle for investiture with the German king Henry IV. At the time of the accession of Alexius Comnenus it became very evident that the westward movement of the Seljuqs was the deadliest menace to the Empire.

The Patzinaks.

Toward the end of the Macedonian period the Patzinaks were the most

dangerous northern enemies of the Byzantine Empire. The imperial government gave them permission to settle in the districts north of the Balkans, and bestowed Byzantine court ranks upon several Patzinak princes. But these measures provided no real solution to the Patzinak problem, first because the Patzinaks were unable to accustom themselves to a settled life, and also because new hordes of Patzinaks and their kinsmen, the Uzes, were continually arriving from beyond the Danube, directing their entire attention to the south, where they could raid Byzantine territory. Isaac Comnenus was very successful in opposing the advances of the Patzinaks, “who had crawled out of their caves.”[156] He restored Byzantine authority on the Danube, and was also able to offer strong opposition to the attacks of the Turks.

In the time of Constantine Ducas the Uzes appeared on the Danube. “This was an actual migration; an entire tribe, numbering 600,000, with all its goods and chattels, was crowded on the left bank of the river. All efforts to prevent their crossing were in vain.”[157] The districts of Thessalonica, Macedonia, Thrace, and even Hellas became subject to terrible devastation. One contemporary Byzantine historian remarks even that “the entire population of Europe was considering (at that time) the question of emigration.”[158] When this terrible menace was removed the mass of people ascribed their relief to miraculous aid from above. Some of the Uzes even entered the Emperor’s service and received certain government lands in Macedonia. The Patzinaks and Uzes who served in the Byzantine army played an important part in the fatal battle at Manzikert.

The new financial policy of Michael VII Ducas Parapinakes, who on the advice of his prime minister reduced the money gifts usually sent to the cities of the Danube, aroused unrest among the Patzinaks and Uzes of the Danubian districts. They formed an alliance with the nomads on the other side of the Danube, reached an agreement with one of the Byzantine generals who rebelled against the Emperor, and, together with other tribes, including perhaps the Slavs, moved on to the south, pillaged the province of Hadrianople, and besieged Constantinople, which suffered greatly from lack of provisions. At this critical moment Michael Parapinakes, under pressure of the Seljuq and Patzinak attacks, sent the appeal for aid to Pope Gregory VII.

The skillful plotting of Byzantine diplomacy succeeded, apparently, in sowing discord among the allied forces which surrounded the capital. They raised the siege and returned to the banks of the Danube with rich spoils. By the end of this period the Patzinaks were active participants in the struggle between Nicephorus Botaniates and Alexius Comnenus for the Byzantine throne.

The Uze and Patzinak problem was not settled in the time of troubles, which preceded the time of the Comneni dynasty. This northern Turkish menace, which at times threatened the capital itself, was handed down to the dynasty of the Comneni.

The Normans.

Toward the end of the period of the Macedonian dynasty the Normans appeared in Italy, and, taking advantage of the internal difficulties in the Byzantine Empire and its breach with Rome, began to advance successfully into the southern Italian possessions of the Empire. The eastern government could do nothing against this menace because its entire forces were thrown into the struggle with the Seljuq Turks, who, together with the Patzinaks and Uzes in the north, seemed to be the natural allies of the Normans. To use the words of Neumann, “the Empire defended itself in Italy only with its left arm.”[159] A strong weapon of the Normans in their struggle with the Byzantine Empire was their fleet, which in a later period was a great aid to the Norman land forces. In the middle of the eleventh century the Normans had also a very capable leader in the person of Robert Guiscard, “who, from a chief of brigands, rose to the rank of a founder of an Empire.”[160]

The main object of Robert Guiscard was the conquest of Byzantine southern Italy. Although the Byzantine Empire was confronted with many grave difficulties, the struggle in Italy in the fifties and sixties of the eleventh century progressed with alternating success. Robert conquered Brindisi, Tarentum, and Reggio (Rhegium); yet a few years later the first two cities were conquered by Byzantine troops sent to Bari, which numbered Varangians among their soldiers. In a later period of this struggle success was on the side of the Normans.

Robert Guiscard besieged Bari, which was at that time the main center of Byzantine domination in southern Italy, and one of the most strongly fortified cities of the peninsula. It was only through cunning methods that, in the ninth century, the Muslims had succeeded in occupying Bari for a brief period of time. In the same century the city offered very stubborn resistance to the western Emperor Lewis II. Robert’s siege of Bari was a difficult military undertaking, greatly aided by the Norman fleet, which blockaded the port. The siege lasted about three years and ended in the spring of 1071, when Bari was compelled to yield to Robert.[161]

The fall of Bari signified the end of Byzantine domination in southern Italy. From this very important point in Apulia Robert could quickly achieve the final conquest of the small remnants of Byzantine dominions in the inner parts of Italy, This conquest of southern Italy also set Robert’s forces free for the reconquest of Sicily from the Muslims.

The subjection of southern Italy by the Normans did not destroy all of Byzantine influence. The admiration for the Eastern Empire, its traditions, and its splendor was still felt very strongly throughout the West. The Western Empire of Charlemagne, or that of Otto of Germany, represented in many ways a reflection of the eastern customs, ideas, and external living conditions sanctified by many centuries. The Norman conquerors of southern Italy, as represented by Robert Guiscard, must have felt a still greater fascination in the Byzantine Empire.

Robert, the duke of Apulia, who considered himself the legal successor of the Byzantine emperors, preserved the Byzantine administrative organization in the conquered districts. Thus we find that Norman documents speak of the theme of Calabria, and indicate that cities were governed by strategi or exarchs and that the Normans were striving to attain Byzantine titles. The Greek language was preserved in the church services of Calabria, while in some districts Greek was used as the official language in the time of the Normans. Generally speaking, the conquerors and the conquered lived side by side, without merging, maintaining their own language, customs, and habits, The ambitious plans of Robert Guiscard went beyond the limited territories of southern Italy. Well aware of the internal weakness of the Byzantine Empire and her grave external difficulties, the Norman conqueror began to dream of seizing the imperial crown of the basileus.

The fall of Bari in the spring of 1071 and the fatal battle of Manzikert in August of the same year make it evident that the year 1071 was one of the most important dates in the course of the whole Byzantine history. Southern Italy was definitely lost in the West, and in the East the domination of the Empire in Asia Minor was doomed.

Territorially reduced and deprived of her main vital source, Asia Minor, the Eastern Empire considerably declined from the second half of the eleventh century.

Notwithstanding some revival under the Comneni, the Empire was gradually yielding its political as well as its economic importance to the states of Western Europe.

Emperor Michael VII Ducas Parapinakes fully understood the extent of Robert’s menace to the Empire and wanted to avert it by means of intermarriage between the two royal houses. The Emperor’s son became engaged to Robert’s daughter. But this did not seem to relieve the existing situation, and after Michael’s deposition the Normans resumed their hostilities against the Empire. At the time of the accession of the Comneni they were already preparing to transfer their military attacks from Italy to the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea. The period of troubles which resulted in the retreat of imperial power on all borders of the Empire, both in Asia and in Europe, and which was characterized by almost incessant internal strife, left for the new dynasty of the Comneni a very difficult political heritage.

Education, learning, literature, and art.

The time of the Macedonian dynasty, marked by stirring activity in the field of external and internal affairs, was also a period of intense development in the sphere of learning, literature, education, and art. This epoch witnessed the clearest exhibition of the characteristic traits of Byzantine learning, expressed in the progress of a closer union between secular and theological elements or the reconciliation of the ancient pagan wisdom with the new ideas of Christianity in the development of universal and encyclopedic knowledge, and finally, in the lack of original and creative genius. During this period the higher school of Constantinople was once more the center of education, learning, and literature, about which the best cultural forces of the Empire were gathered.

Emperor Leo VI the Wise, a pupil of Photius, though not endowed with great literary genius, wrote several sermons, church hymns, and other works. His greatest service was expressed in his efforts to uphold the intellectual atmosphere created by Photius, so that, in the words of one historian, he “made for himself a place of honor in the history of Byzantine education in general, and of its ecclesiastical education in particular.”[162] Leo favored and protected all men of learning and letters; in his time

“the imperial palace was sometimes transformed into a new academy and

lyceum.”[163]

The outstanding figure in the cultural movement of the tenth century was Emperor Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus, who did much for the intellectual progress of Byzantium, not only by protecting education, but also by contributing many original writings. Constantine left all government affairs to Romanus Lecapenus, and devoted the greater part of his time to the field which interested him. He succeeded in becoming the heart of an intense literary and scholarly movement to which he contributed greatly by active participation. He wrote much, induced others to write, and attempted to raise the education of his people to a higher level. His name is closely connected with the erection of many magnificent buildings; he was passionately interested in art and music, and spent large sums of money on the compilation of anthologies from ancient writers.

A large number of writings of the time of Constantine VII in the tenth century are preserved. Some of them were written by Constantine himself, others with his personal aid, while still others, in the form of anthologies of ancient texts and encyclopedias with extracts on various questions, were compiled at his suggestion.

Among his works are his eulogistic biography of his grandfather, Basil I. Another work, On the Administration of the Empire, dedicated to his son and successor, contains interesting and valuable information about the geography of foreign countries, the relations of the Byzantine Empire with neighboring nations, and Byzantine diplomacy.

This work opens with chapters on the northern peoples, the Patzinaks, Russians, Uzes, Khazars, Magyars (Turks), who, especially the first two, played a dominating part in the political and economic life of the tenth century. It also deals with Arabs, Armenians, Bulgarians, Dalmatians, Franks, southern Italians, Venetians, and some other peoples.

The work contains also the names of the rapids of the Dnieper, given in two languages,

“Slavonic” and “Russian,” that is, Scandinavian. It is one of the most important bases on which rests the theory of the Scandinavian origin of the first “Russian” princes. It was composed between 948 and 952 (or 951) and written in an order different from that of the modern published text. Bury, who wrote a special study on the treatise, called it a patchwork.[164] It gives, however, an impressive idea of the political, diplomatic, and economic power of the Empire in the tenth century.[165] Much geographical material is found also in his third work, On Themes, based partly on geographical works of the fifth and sixth centuries. It was also in his time that the large work On the Ceremonies of the Byzantine Court was compiled. This was primarily a detailed description of the complicated code of life at the imperial court, and might almost be considered as a book of “court regulations.” It was compiled chiefly on the basis of official court records of various periods, and the data found in it on baptism, marriage, coronation, burial of emperors, on various church solemnities, on the reception of foreign ambassadors, on the equipment of military expeditions, on offices and titles, and many other aspects of life form an invaluable source for the study, not only of the life at court, but also of the social life of the whole Empire. The Byzantine court ceremonial which sprang up and developed out of the court ceremonies of the late Roman Empire of the time of Diocletian and Constantine the Great later penetrated the court life of western Europe and the Slavonic states, including Russia. Even some of the court ceremonies of Turkey of the twentieth century bear traces of Byzantine influence.

Constantine is also responsible for the lengthy account of the triumphant removal of the miraculous image of the Saviour from Edessa to Constantinople in the year 944.

Popular tradition claimed that this image had been originally sent by Christ to the Prince of Edessa.

From the circle of literary and scholarly men gathered about Constantine came the historian Joseph Genesius, the author of a history from the time of Leo V to that of Leo VI (813-86), and Theodore Daphnopates, who wrote a historical work which has not survived, some diplomatic letters, several sermons for Christian holidays, and a, number of biographies. At the instance of the Emperor, Constantine the Rhodian wrote a poetic description of the Church of the Apostles, which is especially valuable because it gives us a picture of this famous church which was later destroyed by the Turks.

Among the encyclopedias which appeared under Constantine was the famous

collection of Lives of Saints, compiled by Simeon Metaphrastes. To the early tenth century belongs also the Anthologia Palatina, compiled by Constantine Kephalas. It derives its name from the only manuscript, the Codex Palatinus, which is now at Heidelberg, Germany. The claim of some scholars that Constantine Kephalas was no other than Constantine the Rhodian should be considered improbable. The Anthologia Palatina is a large collection of short poems of both Christian and pagan times, and stands out as an example of the fine literary taste of the tenth century.[166]

The time of Constantine Porphyrogenitus witnessed also the compilation of the famous Lexicon of Suidas. There is no information whatever on the life and personality of the author of this lexicon, which is the richest source for the explanation of words, proper names, and articles of general use. The literary and historical articles concerning works which have not come down to the present are of especially great value. In spite of many shortcomings, “the Lexicon of Suidas is a lofty monument of the compilatory diligence of Byzantine scholars at the time when the learned activity of the rest of Europe had completely declined. This was a new evidence of the wide extent to which the Byzantine Empire, in spite of all the internal and external upheavals, preserved and developed the remnants of ancient culture.”[167]

Another eminent figure of the period of the Macedonian dynasty was Arethas, archbishop of Caesarea, in the early part of the tenth century. His broad education and profound interest in literary works, both ecclesiastic and secular, were reflected in his own writings. His Greek commentary on the Apocalypse, the first as far as is known, his notes on Plato, Lucian, and Eusebius, and finally his valuable collection of letters, preserved in one of the Moscow manuscripts and stilt unpublished, indicate that Arethas of Caesarea was an outstanding figure in the cultural movement of the tenth century.[168]

Patriarch Nicholas Mysticus, well known for his active part in the ecclesiastical life of this period, left a valuable collection of over 150 letters. It contains messages written to the Arabian Emir of Crete, to Simeon of Bulgaria, to the popes, to Emperor Romanus Lecapenus, to bishops, monks, and various officials of civil administration.

From them come materials on the internal and political history of the tenth century.

Leo the Deacon, a contemporary of Basil II and an eyewitness of the events of the Bulgarian war, left a history in ten books which covers the time from 959-975 and contains accounts of the Arabian, Bulgarian, and Russian campaigns of the Empire. This history is all the more valuable because it is the only contemporary Greek source dealing with the brilliant period of Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces. The work of Leo the Deacon is also invaluable for the first pages of Russian history because of the extensive data on Sviatoslav and his war with the Greeks.

The monograph of John Cameniates, a priest of Thessalonica, on the Arabian conquest of Thessalonica in 904, of which Cameniates was an eyewitness, has already been mentioned.

Among the chroniclers of this period was the anonymous continuator of

Theophanes (Theophanes Continuarus), who described events from 813 to 961 on the basis of the works of Genesius, of Constantine Porphyrogenitus, and of the continuator of George Hamartolus. The question of the identity of the author of this compilation is still unsolved.[169]

The group of chroniclers of the tenth century are usually represented by four men: Leo the Grammarian, Theodosius of Melitene, the anonymous Continuator of George Hamartolus, and Symeon Magister and Logothete, the so-called Pseudo-Symeon Magister. But these are not original writers; all of them were copyists, abbreviators, or revisers of the Chronicle of Symeon Logothete, whose complete Greek text has not yet been published. There is, however, a published Old Slavonic version of it so that a fairly good idea can be formed of the unpublished Greek text.[170]

To the tenth century belongs also a very interesting figure in the history of Byzantine literature, John Kyriotes, generally known by his surname, Geometres. The height of his literary activity falls in the time of Nicephorus Phocas, John Tzimisces, and Basil II. The first of these was his favorite hero. He left a collection of epigrams and occasional poems, a work in verse on ascetism (Paradise), and some hymns in honor of the Holy Virgin. His epigrams and occasional poems are closely related to the important political events of his time, such as the deaths of Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces, the insurrection of Bardas Sclerus and Bardas Phocas in his poem The Rebellion, the Bulgarian war, etc. All these are of special interest to the student of this period. One poem on his journey from Constantinople to Selybria, through districts which had seen military action, gives a strikingly forceful and pathetic picture of the sufferings and ruin of the local peasantry.[171] Krumbacher was undoubtedly right when he said that John Geometres belongs to the best aspect of Byzantine literature.[172] Many of his poems deserve translation into modern tongues. His prose works, of a rhetorical, exegetical, and oratorical character, are less interesting than his poems.

During the reign of Nicephorus Phocas also the pseudo-Lucianic Dialogue, Philopatris was compiled. This, it has been said, represents “a Byzantine form of humanism,” and for the tenth century reveals “a renaissance of Greek spirit and classical tastes.”[173]

One of the best of Byzantine poets, Christopher of Mytilene, who has only recently become well known, flourished in the first half of the eleventh century. His short works, written mainly in iambic trimeter in the form of epigrams or addresses to various persons, including a number of contemporary emperors, are distinguished by graceful style and fine wit.[174]

In the tenth century, when Byzantine civilization was experiencing a period of brilliant development, representatives of the barbarian West came to the Bosphorus for their education. But at the end of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh centuries, when the entire attention of the Empire was concentrated upon campaigns which raised the Empire to the pinnacle of its military fame, intellectual and creative activity declined somewhat. Basil II treated scholars with disdain. Anna Comnena, a writer of the twelfth century, remarks that “from the reign of Basil Porphyrogenitus (i.e., Basil II Bulgaroctonus) until that of (Constantine) Monomachus, learning was neglected by the majority of the people, but did not go down entirely, and later rose again.”[175]

Separate individuals continued to work diligently and spend long nights over books by the light of lamps.[176] But higher education with government support on a wide scale was revived only in the middle of the eleventh century under Constantine Monomachus, when a group of scholars, headed by the young Constantine Psellus, aroused the Emperor’s interest in their projects and exerted much influence at court.

Heated disputes began concerning the nature of the reforms of the higher school.

While one party wanted a law school, the other demanded a philosophical school, i.e., a school for general education. The agitation constantly increased, and even assumed the aspect of street demonstrations. The Emperor found a good way out of the situation by organizing both a philosophical faculty and a school of law. The founding of the university followed in 1045. The Novel dealing with the founding of the law school has been preserved. The philosophical department, headed by the famous scholar and writer, Psellus, taught philosophy and aimed at giving its student a broad general education. The law school was a sort of juridical lyceum or academy.

A strong need was felt by the Byzantine government for educated and

experienced officials, especially jurists. In the absence of special legal schools, young men gained their knowledge of law from practicing jurists, notaries, and lawyers, who very seldom possessed deep and extensive knowledge in this field. The juridical lyceum founded in the time of Constantine Monomachus was to aid in meeting this urgent need. The lyceum was directed by John Xiphilin, a famous contemporary and friend of Psellus. As before, education was free of charge. The professors received from the government good salaries, silk garments, living provisions, and Easter gifts. Admission was free for all those who desired to enter, regardless of social or financial status, providing they had sufficient preparation. The Novel on the founding of the juridical academy gives an insight into the government’s views on education and juridical knowledge. The law school of the eleventh century had distinctly practical aims, for it was expected to prepare skillful officials acquainted with the laws of the Empire.[177]

The head of the philosophy school, Constantine Psellus, usually known by his monastic name of Michael, was born in the first half of the eleventh century. Through his excellent education, wide knowledge, and brilliant ability he rose very high in the esteem of his contemporaries and became one of the most influential personalities in the Empire. He was invited to the court, and there he was given important offices and high titles. At the same time he taught philosophy and rhetoric to a large number of students. In one of his letters Psellus wrote: “We have enthralled the Celts [i.e., the peoples of western Europe] and Arabs; and they have resorted to our glory even from the two continents; the Nile irrigates the land among the Egyptians, and my tongue

[irrigates] their spirit … One of the peoples calls me a light of wisdom, another, a luminary, and the third has honored me with the most beautiful names.”[178]

Following the example of his friend John Xiphilin, the head of the law academy, he took the monastic habit under the name of Michael and spent some time in a monastery. But solitary monastic life did not appeal to Psellus’ nature. He left the monastery and returned to the capital, resuming his important place at court. Toward the end of his life he rose to the high post of prime minister. He died near the end of the eleventh century, probably in the year 1078.[179]

Living as he did in the time of unrest and decline of the Empire, accompanied by frequent changes on the throne which often meant changes in policy, Psellus showed great ability in adjusting himself to the changing conditions of life. During his service under nine emperors he continued to rise in rank and grow in influence. Psellus did not hesitate to use flattery, subserviency, or bribes in order to build up his own well-being.

It cannot therefore be said that he possessed very high moral qualities, although in this regard he was not different from a large number of men of that troubled and difficult period.

He possessed many qualities however which placed him far above his

contemporaries. He was a highly educated man who knew much, read extensively, and worked assiduously. He achieved much in his lifetime and left many works on theology, philosophy (in which he followed Plato), natural sciences, philology, history, and law, and he wrote some poetry, a number of orations, and many letters. The History of Psellus, describing events from the death of John Tzimisces until the last years of the author’s life (976-1077), is a very valuable source for the history of the eleventh century, in spite of certain prejudices in the account. In all his literary activity Psellus was a representative of secular knowledge imbued with Hellenism. It is very apparent that he was not modest in his opinions of himself. In his chronography he wrote, “I was certified that my tongue has been adorned with flowers even in simple utterances; and without any effort natural sweetness falls in drops from it.”[180] Elsewhere Psellus said that Constantine IX “admired his eloquence exceedingly, and his ears were always attracted to his tongue;” that Michael VI “admired him profoundly and tasted, as it behooves, the honey which flowed from his lips;” that Constantine X “filled himself with his words as with nectar;” that Eudocia “regarded him as a God.”[181] Historians still disagree in their appraisal of the personality and activity of Psellus. And yet there seems to be little doubt that he must have occupied as high a place in the Byzantine cultural life of the eleventh century as Photius did in the ninth century, and Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the tenth.[182]

The time of the Macedonian dynasty, especially the tenth century, is viewed as the period of the development of Byzantine epic poetry and Byzantine popular songs, whose chief hero was Basil Digenes Akrites. The intense life on the eastern border with its almost incessant warfare offered a wide field for brave deeds and dangerous adventures. The deepest and most durable impression was left in the memory of the people by the hero of these border provinces, Basil Digenes Akrites. The true name of this epic hero was, apparently, Basil; Digenes and Akrites were only surnames. The name “Digenes” may be translated as “born of two peoples,” and originated because his father was a Muhammedan Arab and his mother a Christian Greek. Digenes was usualiy applied to children born of parents of different races. Akrites (plural Akritai) was a name applied during the Byzantine period to the defenders of the outermost borders of the Empire, from the Greek word akra (ακρα), meaning “border.” The Akritai sometimes enjoyed a certain amount of independence from the central government, and are compared with the western European markgraves (meaning rulers of the borderlands, marches) and with the cossacks of the ukraina (meaning border, also) in the history of Russia.

The epic hero Digenes Akrites devoted all of his life to the struggle with the Muslims and Apelatai. The latter name, which originally meant “those who drive away the cattle,” and later simply “robbers,” was applied on the eastern border of the Byzantine Empire to mountain robbers, “those bold fellows, strong in spirit and body, half robbers and half heroes,”[183] who scorned the authority of the Emperor and the caliph, and devastated the lands of both. In times of peace these robbers were fought by the joint efforts of Christians and Muslims, while in times of war each side strove to gain the support of these daring men. Rambaud said that in the border districts “one felt far removed from the Byzantine Empire, and it might have seemed that one was not in the provinces of an enlightened monarchy, but in the midst of the feudal anarchy of the West.”[184]

On the basis of various hints found throughout the epic of Digenes Akrites it may be asserted that the real event on which it is based took place in the middle of the tenth century in Cappadocia and in the district of the Euphrates. In the epic Digenes accomplishes great deeds and fights for the Christians and the Empire; in his conception orthodoxy and Romania (the Byzantine empire) are inseparable. The description of Digenes’ palace gives a closer view of the magnificence and wealth found in the midst of the large landowners of Asia Minor so strongly resented by Basil II Bulgaroctonus. The original prototype of Digenes Akrites, however, has been said to be not Christian but the half-legendary champion of Islam, Saiyid Battal Ghazi, whose name is connected with the battle at Acroïnon in 740. The name of Digenes remained popular even in the later years of the Byzantine Empire. Theodore Prodromus, the poet of the twelfth century, when attempting to give due praise to Emperor Manuel Comnenus, could not find a better tide for him than “the new Akrites.”[185]

According to Bury, “As Homer reflects all sides of a certain stage of early Greek civilization, as the Nibelungenlied mirrors the civilization of the Germans during the period of the migrations, so the Digenes cycle presents a comprehensive picture of the Byzantine world in Asia Minor and of the frontier life.”[186] This epic has survived the Byzantine Empire. Even today the people of Cyprus and Asia Minor sing of the famous Byzantine hero.[187] Near Trebizond travelers are still shown his grave, which, according to popular tradition, is supposed to protect the newly born against evil spells. In its contents the epic resembles very closely well-known western European epic legends, such as the Song of Roland of the time of Charlemagne, or The Cid, both of which also grew out of the struggle between Christianity and Muhammedanism.

The epic of Digenes Akrites is preserved in several manuscripts, the oldest of which belongs to the fourteenth century.[188] The study of it has recently entered a new phase in the illuminating researches initiated by H. Grégoire and brilliantly carried out by his collaborators, M. Canard and R. Goossens. It is almost certain that the historical prototype of Digenes was Diogenes, the turmarchus of the theme of Anatolici, in Asia Minor, who fell in 788 fighting against the Arabs. Many elements of the poem date from the events of the tenth century, when the Byzantine troops established themselves on the Euphrates and the tomb of Digenes, near Samosata, was identified about 940. Extremely interesting connections have been discovered between the Byzantine epic and Arabian and Turkish epics, and even with the Tales of the Thousand-and-One Nights. This epic, with its historical background and ramifications in the field of Oriental epics, presents one of the most fascinating problems of Byzantine literature.[189]

Byzantine epics in the form of popular ballads have been reflected in Russian epic monuments, and the epic of Digenes Akritas has its place there. In ancient Russian literature The Deeds and Life of Digenes Akrites appears; this was known even to the Russian historian, Karamzin (early nineteenth century), who at first viewed it as a Russian fairy tale. It was of no little importance in the development of old Russian literature, for old Russian life and letters were profoundly affected by Byzantine influence, both ecclesiastical and secular. It is interesting to note that in the Russian version of the poem on Digenes there are sometimes episodes which have not yet been discovered in its Greek texts.[190]

The intellectual and artistic life of the Empire in the difficult and troubled times continued to develop along the lines of the Macedonian period. The activity of Michael Psellus, for instance, was not interrupted. This alone may serve as an indication of the fact that the cultural life of the country did not cease to exist. Psellus was favored by the accidental rulers of the period as much as he was by the representatives of the Macedonian house.

Among the notable writers of this period was Michael Attaliates. He was born in Asia Minor, but later migrated to Constantinople and there chose a legal and juristic career. His surviving works belong to the field of history and jurisprudence. His history, embracing the period from 1034 to 1079, based on personal experience, gives a true picture of the time of the last Macedonian rulers and the years of the troubled period.

The style of Michael Attaliates already showed evidences of the artificial renaissance of classicism which became so widespread under the Comneni. The law treatise of Michael, derived entirely from the Basilics, enjoyed very great popularity. His aim was to edit a very brief manual of law accessible to all. Highly valuable data on the cultural life of the Byzantine Empire in the eleventh century are found in the statute compiled by Michael for the poorhouse and monastery he founded. This statute contains an inventory of the property of the poorhouse and monastery which included, among other things, a list of books donated to the monasterial library.

The time of the Macedonian dynasty is of great importance for the history of Byzantine art. The period from the middle of the ninth century until the twelfth century, i.e., including the period of the subsequent dynasty of the Comneni, is characterized by scholars as the second Golden Age of Byzantine Art, the first Golden Age being the time of Justinian the Great. The iconoclastic crisis liberated Byzantine art from stifling ecclesiastic and monastic influences and indicated new paths outside of religious subjects. These paths led to the return to the traditions of early Alexandrian models, to the development of ornament borrowed from the Arabs and therefore closely related to the ornament of Islam, and to the substitution for ecclesiastical subjects of historical and profane motives, which were treated with greater realism.

But the artistic creations of the epoch of the Macedonian dynasty did not limit themselves to merely borrowing or copying these subjects; it introduced something of its own, something original.

The revived Greek style of the Macedonian and Comnenian periods was able to contribute something more than the physical grace of the fourth-century Hellenistic manner; it had gathered to itself much of the gravity and strength of an earlier age.

These qualities imposed themselves upon Middle Byzantine expression. Their influence excluded the clumsy forms of the sixth century, which continued only in religious centers in remote provinces where the power of the capital wss not felt. They lent a dignity and graciousness, a restraint and balance, an undisturbed refinement which became characteristics of Byzantine design in its maturer period. They grew into harmony with religious emotion; they had a seriousness which the work of Hellenistic times had not possessed. Though there may be exaggeration in saying that in its later centuries Byzantine art was systematically and progressively hellenized, it is certain that a thorough and complete orientalization was no longer possible.[191]

The famous Austrian art historian, J. Strzygowski, attempted to prove a theory which is closely connected with the epoch of the Macedonian dynasty. In his opinion the accession of the first ruler of this dynasty, an Armenian by birth, marked a new stage in the history of Byzantine art, namely, the period of the direct influence of Armenian art upon the artistic efforts of Byzantium. In other words, in place of the older notion that Armenia was under the strong influence of Byzantine art, Strzygowski attempted to prove the very opposite. It is true that Armenian influence was strongly felt in the time of the Macedonian dynasty, and that many Armenian artists and architects worked in Byzantium. The New Church, built by Basil I, may have reproduced an Armenian plan; when in the tenth century the dome of St. Sophia was damaged by an earthquake, it was to an Armenian architect, builder of the cathedral of Ani in Armenia, that the work of restoration was entrusted. But though in Strzygowski’s theories, as Ch. Diehl said, there are “many ingenious and seductive things,” they cannot be accepted in full.[192]

Basil I was a great builder. He erected the New Church, the Nea, which was as important an event in Basil’s constructive policy as the erection of St. Sophia in that of Justinian. He constructed a new palace, the Kenourgion, and decorated it with brilliant mosaics. Basil I also restored and adorned St. Sophia and the Church of the Holy Apostles. St. Sophia, damaged by the earthquake of 989, was also the object of the care of the emperors of the tenth and eleventh centuries.

Under the Macedonian emperors there appeared for the first time the imperial ikon-painting schools, which not only produced large numbers of ikons and decorated the walls of churches, but also engaged in illustrating manuscripts. In the time of Basil II appeared the famous Vatican Menologium, or Menology, with beautiful miniatures —

illustrations carried out by eight illuminators whose names are inscribed on the margins.[193] To this epoch belong also many other interesting, original, and finely executed miniatures.

The main center of artistic developments was the city of Constantinople, but the Byzantine provinces of that period have also preserved important monuments of art, such as the dated “Church of Skripu” (A.D. 874), in Boeotia; a group of churches on Mount Athos, dating from the tenth or early eleventh, century; St. Luke of Stiris in Phocis (the early eleventh century); Nea Moni on Chios (the middle of the eleventh century), the monastery church of Daphni in Attica (the end of the eleventh century).

In Asia Minor the numerous rock-cut churches of Cappadocia have preserved a large number of extremely interesting frescoes, many of which belong to the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries. The discovery and study of these Cappadocian frescoes, which

“revealed an astonishing wealth of mural painting,”[194] are closely connected with the name of the G. de Jerphanion, S.I., who devoted most of his life to the minute investigation of Cappadocia, “a new province of Byzantine art.”[195]

The influence of Byzantine art of the Macedonian period extended beyond the boundaries of the Empire. The most recent painting in the famous Santa Maria Antica at Rome, assigned to the ninth or tenth centuries, may take a place with the best products of the Macedonian Renaissance.[196] St. Sophia of Kiev (A.D. 1037), in Russia, as well as many other Russian churches, belong also to the “Byzantine” tradition of the epoch of the Macedonian emperors.

The most brilliant period of the Macedonian dynasty (867-1025) was also the best time in the history of Byzantine art from the point of view of artistic vitality and originality. The subsequent period of troubles and the time of the Comneni, beginning with the year 1081, witnessed the rise of an entirely different, drier, and more rigid art.

The Byzantine standards, which had been carried (in the time of Basil II) into Armenia, were by degrees withdrawn; those of the Seljuq Turks advanced. At home there reigned the spirit of immobility which finds its expression in ceremonies and displays, the spirit of an Alexius Comnenus and his court. All this was reflected in the art or the century preceding the invasion of the Crusaders from the West. The springs of progress dried up; there was no longer any power of organic growth; the only change now possible was a passive acceptance of external forces. Religious fervor was absorbed in formal preoccupations. The liturgical system, by controlling design, led to the production of manuals, or painter’s guides, in which the path to be followed was exactly traced; the composition was stereotyped; the very colors were prescribed.[197]

7. Byzantium and the Crusades

The Comneni emperors and their foreign policy

The revolution of 1081 elevated to the throne Alexius Comnenus, whose uncle Isaac had been emperor for a short time at the end of the sixth decade of the eleventh century (1057-59). The Greek name of the Comneni, mentioned in the sources for the first time under Basil II, came originally from a village not far from Hadrianople. Later the family became large landowners in Asia Minor. Both Isaac and his nephew Alexius distinguished themselves by their military talents. Under Alexius the military party and provincial large landowners triumphed over the bureaucrats and civil regime of the capital, and at the same time the epoch of troubles came to its end. The first three Comneni succeeded in keeping the throne for a century and transferring it from father to son.

Owing to his energetic and skillful rule, Alexius I (1081-1118) secured the Empire from serious external dangers which sometimes threatened the very existence of the state. But the succession of the throne created difficulties. Long before his death, Alexius had nominated his son, John, heir to the imperial dignity and thereby greatly irritated his elder daughter, Anna, the famous authoress of the historical work, Alexiad.

She devised a complicated plot in order to remove John and force the recognition as heir to the throne of her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius, who was also an historian.

The aged Alexius remained, however, firm in his decision, and after his death John was proclaimed Emperor.

Upon ascending the throne, John II (7118-1143) had at once to undergo a painful experience. A plot against him was discovered, in which his sister Anna took the leading part; his mother was also entangled. The conspiracy failed, but John treated the conspirators very leniently, only punishing the majority by depriving them of their property. Because of his lofty moral qualities, John deserved general respect; he was called Calojohn (Caloyan), that is to say, John the Good (or the Handsome). Both Greek and Latin writers are unanimous in their high appreciation of John’s character. Nicetas Choniates said, “he was the best type (κορωνις) of all the Emperors, from the family of the Comneni, who had ever sat upon the Roman throne.” Gibbon, who was always severe in his judgment of Byzantine rulers, wrote of this “best and greatest of the Comnenian princes,” that even “the philosophic Marcus (Aurelius) would not have disdained the artless virtues of his successor, derived from his heart, and not borrowed from the schools.”

Opposed to needless luxury and wasteful prodigality, John stamped his mark upon the court, which, under his rule, lived a strict and economical life; there were no more entertainments, no festivities, no enormous expenses. On the other hand, the reign of this merciful, calm, and most moral Emperor was little but a continuous military campaign.

His son and successor, Manuel I (1143-1180) formed a complete contrast to John.

A convinced admirer of the West who had chosen as his ideal the western knight, the new Emperor changed at once the austere court setting of his late father. Cheerful entertainments, love, receptions, sumptuous festivities, hunting parties after the western pattern, tournaments-all these spread widely over Constantinople. The visits to the capital of foreign sovereigns such as the kings of Germany and France, the sultan of Iconium, and several Latin princes from the East, with the king of Jerusalem, Amaury I, at their head, required enormous amounts of money.

A very great number of western Europeans appeared at the Byzantine court, and the most lucrative and responsible offices of the Empire began to pass into their hands.

Manuel was married twice, each time to a western princess. His first wife, Bertha of Sulzbach, whose name was changed in Byzantium to Irene, was a sister-in-law of the king of Germany, Conrad III; his second wife, Mary (Maria), was a French lady of rare beauty, a daughter of a prince of Antioch. The whole reign of Manuel was regulated by his western ideals, as well as by his illusive dream of restoring the unity of the former Roman Empire; for that purpose he hoped, with the aid of the pope, to deprive the king of Germany of his imperial crown, and he was even ready to effect a union with the western Catholic church. Latin oppression and neglect of indigenous interests, however, evoked general discontent among the population; and a vigorous desire to change the system arose. But Manuel died before he saw the collapse of his policy.

Alexius II (1180-1183), son and successor of Manuel, was twelve years old at his father’s death. His mother, Mary of Antioch, was proclaimed regent. But practically all power passed into the hands of the regent’s favorite, Alexius Comnenus, Manuel’s nephew. The new government relied upon the support of the hated Latin element.

Popular exasperation, therefore, kept increasing. Empress Mary, formerly so popular, was now considered as a “foreigner.” The French historian Diehl compared the condition of Mary to that of Marie Antoinette, who in the time of the French revolution was similarly called by the populace “the Austrian.”

A strong party formed against the all-powerful favorite Alexius Comnenus; at the head of that party stood Andronicus Comnenus, one of the most singular figures in the annals of Byzantine history, and an interesting type for both historian and novelist.

Andronicus, a nephew of John II and cousin of Manuel I, belonged to the younger line of the Comneni, which had been removed from the throne and had distinguished itself by extraordinary energy, sometimes wrongly directed. Later, in the third generation, this line provided the sovereigns of the Empire of Trebizond who are known in history as the dynasty of the Grand Comneni. “Prince-exile” of the twelfth century, “the future Richard III of Byzantine history,” in whose soul there was “something similar to that of Caesar Borgia,” “Alcibiades of the Middle-Byzantine Empire,” Andronicus represented

“a perfect type of a Byzantian of the twelfth century with all his virtues and vices.”

Handsome, elegant, and witty, an athlete and a warrior, well educated and charming, especially to the women who adored him, frivolous and passionate, skeptic and, in case of need, hypocrite and perjurer, ambitious conspirator and intriguer, terrible in his later days for his ferocity, Andronicus, as Diehl said, being a genius by nature, might have become the savior and regenerator of the exhausted Byzantine Empire; but for that purpose he lacked “perhaps, a little moral sense.”

An historian contemporary with Andronicus, Nicetas Choniates, wrote about him: “Who has been born of such strong rock or with a heart forged on such an anvil as not to be softened by the streams of Andronicus’ tears nor to be charmed by the wiliness of his words which he poured out as from a dark spring.” The same historian compared Andronicus to the “multiform Proteus.”

In spite of a semblance of friendship with Manuel, Andronicus was suspected by the latter and found no opportunities of presenting himself in his true light in Byzantium. He spent most of Manuel’s reign in wandering over the different countries of Europe and Asia. Having been sent by the Emperor first to Cilicia and then to the borders of Hungary, Andronicus was accused of political treason and plotting against Manuel’s life; he was confined in a Constantinopolitan prison, where he spent several years; after many extraordinary adventures, he succeeded in escaping from his confinement through a neglected drain pipe; then he was caught again and imprisoned for several years more. But he escaped again to the north and took refuge in southwest Russia with the Prince of Galich, Yaroslav. Under the year 1165 a Russian chronicler said: “The Emperor’s cousin Kyr (Sir) Andronicus took refuge from Tsargrad with Yaroslav of Galich; and Yaroslav received him with great love and gave him several cities in consolation.” As Byzantine sources report, Andronicus was kindly received by Yaroslav, had his residence in Yaroslav’s house, ate and hunted with him, and even took part in his councils with the boyars (Russian nobility). But the stay of Andronicus at the court of the Prince of Galich seemed dangerous to Manuel, whose restless relative was already entering into negotiations with Hungary, with which Byzantium had begun a war. Manuel accordingly determined to pardon Andronicus, who was dismissed by Yaroslav from Galich to Constantinople, “with great honor,” as a Russian chronicler says.

Appointed Duke of Cilicia, in Asia Minor, he did not stay there for long. He arrived in Palestine via Antioch; there he fell in love with Theodora, the Emperor’s relative and widow of the King of Jerusalem, who yielded to his solicitations. The infuriated Emperor commanded Andronicus to be blinded, but warned in time of his danger, he fled abroad with Theodora and led a wandering life for several years in Syria, Mesopotamia, and Armenia, spending some time even in far-off Iberia (Georgia or Gruzia, in the Caucasus).

At last, Manuel’s envoys succeeded in seizing the passionately beloved Theodora and the children she had borne to Andronicus; incapable of enduring that loss, he resolved to make his submission to Manuel. Pardon was granted, and Andronicus apparently repented the follies of his stormy life. His appointment as governor of Pontus, in Asia Minor on the shores of the Black Sea, was a sort of honorable exile of a dangerous relative. At that time, 1180, Manuel died, and his son, Alexius II, a child of twelve, became Emperor. Andronicus was then sixty years old.

Such was the biography of the man in whom the population of the capital, exasperated by the latinophile policy of the Empress-regent, Mary of Antioch, and her favorite, Alexius Comnenus, reposed all their trust. Very skillfully pretending to protect the violated rights of the minor Alexius II, who was in the power of the wicked rulers, and to be “a friend of the Romans” (φιλορωμαιος), Andronicus succeeded in winning the hearts of the exhausted population, who deified him. A contemporary, Eustathius of Thessalonica, said Andronicus “to the majority of people, was dearer than God himself,”

or, at least, “immediately followed him.”

After having created the proper feeling in the capital, Andronicus set out for Constantinople. At the news of his march, the populace of the capital gave vent to their hatred for the Latins. A raging mob attacked the Latin quarter and began to massacre the Latins, without distinction of sex or age; the infuriated populace plundered not only private houses, but also Latin churches and charitable institutions; in a hospital the patients lying in bed were murdered; the papal legate was insulted and beheaded; many Latins were sold into slavery in the Turkish markets. By that massacre of the Latins in 1182, as Th. Uspensky said, “the seed of the fanatic enmity between West and East, if not planted, was watered.”[12] The all-powerful ruler, Alexius Comnenus, was imprisoned and blinded. Then Andronicus entered the capital in triumph. In order to give stability to his position, he began gradually to destroy Manuel’s relatives and commanded the Empress-mother, Mary of Antioch, to be strangled. Then Andronicus became joint emperor with Alexius II. Several days later, in spite of his solemn promise to protect Alexius’ life, he commanded him also to be strangled in secret. Thereupon, in 1183, Andronicus, at sixty-three years of age, became the sole all-powerful emperor.

Ascending the throne with designs which became evident later, Andronicus could maintain his power only by a system of terrorism and unspeakable cruelty. In external affairs, he showed neither energy nor initiative. The mood of the populace turned against him. In 1185 a revolution broke out which elevated to the throne Isaac Angelus. Andronicus’ attempt to escape met with failure. Dethroned, he was exposed to hideous tortures and insults, which he bore with superhuman courage. In his atrocious sufferings he many times repeated: “Lord, have mercy upon me! Why do you break a bruised reed?” The new emperor did not even allow the lacerated remains of Andronicus to be buried; and with this tragedy the last brilliant Byzantine dynasty came to its end.

Alexius I and external relations before the First Crusade.

Anna Comnena, the educated and gifted daughter of the new Emperor, Alexius, said that her father, at the beginning of his reign, viewed the Turkish danger from the east and the Norman from the west, and “saw that his Empire was in fatal agony.” The external situation of the Empire was very serious and gradually became still more troublesome and complicated.

The Norman War. — The Duke of Apulia, Robert Guiscard, after conquering the Byzantine possessions in southern Italy, formed much wider plans. Ambitious to deal a blow at the very heart of Byzantium, he transferred hostilities to the Adriatic coast of the Balkan peninsula. He left the government of Apulia to his younger son Roger and, with his elder brother Bohemond, well-known as a participator in the First Crusade, sailed against Alexius, with a considerable fleet. His chief immediate aim was to seize the maritime city of Dyrrachium (formerly Epidamnus; Slavonic Drach [Drač] now Durazzo) in Illyria. Dyrrachium, the chief city of the theme of Dyrrachium, which had been organized under Basil II Bulgaroctonus, was very well fortified and justly considered the key to the Empire in the west. The famous military road of Egnatius (via Egnatia), constructed as far back as Roman times, led from Dyrrachium to Thessalonica and then farther to the east toward Constantinople. Therefore it was perfectly natural that Robert’s chief attention should be directed upon Dyrrachium. This expedition was

“the prelude of the Crusades and preparation (Vorbereitung) for the Frankish dominion in Greece,” “the pre-crusade of Robert Guiscard, his great war against Alexius Comnenus.”

Realizing that with his own forces he was incapable of overcoming the Norman danger, Alexius Comnenus called on the West for aid, and among other rulers he appealed to Henry IV of Germany. Henry at that time had some difficulties within his own empire and had not yet settled his struggle with Pope Gregory VII so that he was able to afford no aid to the Byzantine Emperor. But Venice, with a view to her own interests, replied favorably to the appeal of Alexius. In return for the help of her fleet, the Emperor promised the Republic of St. Mark enormous trade privileges. It suited the interests of Venice to support the eastern Emperor in his war against the Normans because in case of military success the Normans could immediately seize the trade routes to Byzantium and the East, in other words, could obtain possession of what the Venetians themselves hoped in the course of time to control. Besides, a real and immediate danger pressed upon Venice: Norman possession of the Ionian Islands, especially Corfu and Cephalonia, and the west coast of the Balkan peninsula, would have barred the Adriatic to the Venetian vessels plying in the Mediterranean.

After the capture of the island of Corfu, the Normans besieged Dyrrachium by land and sea. Although the Venetian vessels had relieved the besieged city on the seaward side, the land army under Alexius, composed of Macedonian Slavs, Turks, the imperial Varangian-English bodyguard, and some other nationalities, was heavily defeated. At the beginning of 1082, Dyrrachium opened its gates to Robert. But a revolt which had broken out in south Italy called Robert away. Bohemond, to whom the command of the expeditionary corps had been delegated by his brother, was finally vanquished. A new expedition undertaken by Robert against Byzantium was successful, but an epidemic broke out among his troops and Robert himself fell a victim to the disease. He died in 1085 in the north of the island of Cephalonia. Even today a small bay and village in the island, Fiscardo (Guiscardo, Portus Wiscardi, in the Middle Ages, from the name of Robert Guiscard), recalls the name of the powerful Duke of Apulia. With Robert’s death the Norman invasion of Byzantine territory ceased, and Dyrrachium passed again to the Greeks.

It has been shown that the aggressive policy of Robert Guiscard in the Balkan peninsula failed. But under him the question of the south Italian possessions of Byzantium was definitely decided. Robert had founded the Italian state of the Normans, because he was the first to succeed in unifying the various countries founded by his compatriots and in forming the Duchy of Apulia, which under him lived through a period of brilliance. A certain decline of the Duchy which came on after Robert’s death, lasted for about fifty years, at the end of which the foundation of the Sicilian Kingdom opened a new era in the history of the Italian Normans. Robert Guiscard, the French historian Chalandon declared, “opened a new way to the ambition of his descendants: after him the Italian Normans were to direct their gaze toward the east; in the east and at the expense of the Greek Empire, twelve years later, Bohemond was to create a princedom for himself.”

Venice, in return for the aid given by her fleet, received from the Emperor enormous trade privileges which established for the Republic of St. Mark quite an exceptional position in the Empire. Besides magnificent presents to the Venetian churches and honorable titles with a fixed salary to the doge and Venetian patriarch and their successors, the imperial charter of Alexius (or chrysobull, i.e. the charter confirmed with a gold imperial seal) of May 1082 granted the Venetian merchants the right of buying and selling all over the Empire and made them free of custom, port, and other dues connected with trade; the Byzantine customs officers had no right of inspecting their merchandise. In the capital itself the Venetians received a large quarter with many shops and stores as well as three landing places, which were called in the East scales (maritimas tres scalas), where the Venetian vessels could be freely loaded and unloaded. The charter of Alexius gives an interesting list of the places of the Empire which were commercially most important, on the seashore and in the interior, which were open to Venice in Asia Minor, the Balkan peninsula and Greece, and in the islands of the Aegean, ending with Constantinople, which is called in this document Megalopolis, i.e. Great City. In their turn, the Venetians promised to be the faithful subjects of the Empire. By the privileges accorded to the Venetian merchants in the charter they were treated much more favorably than the Byzantine merchants themselves. By the charter of Alexius Comnenus a solid foundation was laid for the colonial power of Venice in the East; the conditions established to create her economic preponderance in Byzantium were such as would seem likely to make competition impossible for a long time. But the same exceptional economic privileges granted Venice served in the course of time, under changed circumstances, as one of the causes of the political conflicts between the Eastern Empire and the Republic of St. Mark.

Struggle of the Empire against the Turks and Patzinaks. — The Turkish danger from the east and north, from the Seljuqs and Patzinaks, which had already been very threatening under the predecessors of Alexius Comnenus, increased in intensity under that monarch. The victory over the Normans and Guiscard’s death had permitted Alexius to restore the Byzantine territory in the west as far as the Adriatic coast, but on the other borders, the attacks of the Turks and Patzinaks were so successful that the Empire was considerably reduced in territory. Anna Comnena rhetorically declared that at that time “the neighboring Bosphorus was the frontier of the Roman Empire in the east, and Hadrianople in the west.”

It seemed that in Asia Minor, which had been almost wholly conquered by the Seljuqs, circumstances were shaping themselves favorably for the Empire, because among the Turkish rulers (emirs) a struggle for power was weakening the Turkish strength and bringing the country into a state of anarchy. But Alexius was unable to take full advantage of the distractions of the Turks because of the attacks of the Patzinaks from the north.

In their conflict with Byzantium the Patzinaks found allies within the Empire in the Paulicians who dwelt in the Balkan peninsula. The Paulicians represented an Eastern dualistic religious sect, one of the chief branches of Manichaeism, which had been founded in the third century A.D. by Paul of Samosata and reformed in the seventh century. Living in Asia Minor, on the eastern border of the Empire, and firmly adhering to their doctrine, they sometimes caused grave trouble to the Byzantine government by their warlike energy. One of the familiar methods of Byzantine internal policy was to transport various nationalities from one place to another; for example, the Slavs were moved to Asia Minor and Armenians to the Balkan peninsula. The Paulicians also had been transported in great numbers from the eastern border to Thrace in the eighth century by Constantine V Copronymus, as well as in the tenth century by John Tzimisces. The city of Philippopolis in the Balkan peninsula became the center of the Paulicians. Tzimisces, by settling the eastern colony in the vicinity of that city, succeeded first in removing the stubborn sectarians from their strongholds and castles on the eastern border, where it was very difficult to manage them, and also he hoped that in their new settlement the Paulicians would serve as a strong bulwark against the frequent invasions of the northern “Scythian” barbarians. In the tenth century the Paulician doctrine had been carried into Bulgaria by the reformer of that doctrine, Pope Bogomile, after whom the Byzantine writers named his followers Bogomiles. From Bulgaria the Bogomile doctrine later passed into Serbia and Bosnia, and then into western Europe, where the followers of the eastern dualistic doctrine bore different names: Patarins in Italy, Cathari in Germany and Italy, Poblicans (i.e.

Paulicians) and Albigensians in France.

The Byzantine government was disappointed in its expectations from eastern sectarians settled in the Balkan peninsula. First of all, the unexpected spreading of the heresy was speedy and wide. Secondly, the followers of the Bogomile doctrine became the spokesmen for the national Slavonic political opposition against the severe Byzantine administration in both ecclesiastical and secular matters, especially within Bulgaria, which had been conquered by Basil II. Therefore, instead of defending the Byzantine territory from the northern barbarians, the Bogomiles called on the Patzinaks to fight against Byzantium. The Cumans (Polovtzi) joined the Patzinaks.

The struggle with the Patzinaks, in spite of some temporary successes, taxed all the strength of Byzantium. At the end of the ninth decade Alexius Comnenus suffered a terrific defeat at Dristra (Durostolus, Silistria), on the lower Danube, and was nearly captured himself. Only the quarrel resulting from the division of the spoil, which had broken out between the Patzinaks and Cumans, prevented the former from taking full advantage of their victory.

After a short relief obtained from the Patzinaks by payment, Byzantium had to live through the terrible time of 1090-1091. The Patzinaks came, after a stubborn struggle, up to Constantinople itself. Anna Comnena related that, on the day of the commemoration of the martyr Theodore Tyron, the inhabitants of the capital, who usually went to visit in great numbers the church of the martyr in a suburb beyond the city wall, could not do so; it was impossible to open the city gates, because the Patzinaks were standing under the walls.

The situation of the Empire became still more critical when a Turkish pirate, Tzachas, began to menace the capital from the south. He had spent his youth in Constantinople at the court of Nicephorus Botaniates, had received a high Byzantine title, and on the accession of Alexius Comnenus, had fled to Asia Minor. Having taken possession by means of his fleet of Smyrna and some other cities of the western coast of Asia Minor and some islands of the Aegean, Tzachas boldly set himself the goal of dealing a blow to Constantinople from the sea and thereby cutting off all means of supply from the capital. To assure the effectiveness of his plan, he entered into negotiations with the Patzinaks in the north and the Seljuqs of Asia Minor in the east.

Secure of success, Tzachas already called himself emperor (basileus), put on the insignia of imperial rank, and dreamt of making Constantinople the center of his state.

Both the Patzinaks and Seljuqs were Turks who, thanks to their military and political relations, came to realize their ethnographic kinship. The Russian scholar V.

Vasilievsky declared “in the person of Tzachas there appeared a foe of Byzantium who combined with the enterprising boldness of a barbarian the refinement of a Byzantine education and an excellent knowledge of all the political relations of eastern Europe of that time; he planned to become the soul of the general Turkish movement and would and could give a reasonable and definite goal and general plan to the senseless wanderings and robberies of the Patzinaks.” It seemed that on the ruins of the Eastern Empire a new Turkish state of the Seljuqs and Patzinaks would now be founded. “The Byzantine Empire,” as Vasilievsky continued, “was drowning in the Turkish invasion.”

Another Russian historian, Th. Uspensky, wrote: “In the winter of 1090-91 the condition of Alexius Comnenus can be compared only with that of the last years of the Empire, when the Ottoman Turks surrounded Constantinople on all sides and cut it off from outward relations.”

Realizing the whole horror of the condition of the Empire, Alexius followed the usual Byzantine diplomatic tactics of rousing one barbarian against the others: he appealed to the Khans (princes) of the Cumans (Polovtzi), those “allies in despair,”

asking them to help him against the Patzinaks. The savage and ferocious Cuman Khans, Tugorkhan and Boniak, very well known in the Russian chronicles, were invited to Constantinople, where they were received in the most flattering way and sumptuously entertained. The Byzantine Emperor humbly solicited the aid of the barbarians, who were very proud to be on an equal footing with the Emperor. The Cuman Khans gave Alexius their word and kept it. On the twenty-ninth of April, 1091, a bloody battle took place; in all probability, the Russians as well as the Cumans took part in it. The Patzinaks were crushed and mercilessly annihilated. Anna Comnena noted: “One could see an extraordinary spectacle: the whole people, reckoning not in ten thousands but surpassing any number, entirely perished on that day with wives and children.” This battle left its trace in a contemporary Byzantine song, “The Scythians” (so Anna Comnena calls the Patzinaks), “because of one day did not see May.” By their interference in favor of Byzantium the Cumans did an enormous service to the Christian world. “Their chiefs, Boniak and Tugorkhan, must be justly reckoned among the saviors of the Byzantine Empire.”

Alexius returned to the capital in triumph. Only a small part of the captured Patzinaks were left alive. This remnant of the terrific horde settled in the Balkan peninsula, east of the Vardar river, and later on entered the Byzantine army, in which they formed a special contingent. The Patzinaks who had succeeded in escaping beyond the Balkans were so weakened that for thirty years they could undertake nothing against Byzantium.

Tzachas, who had terrified Byzantium but had not succeeded in supporting the Patzinaks with his fleet, lost a part of his conquests in the conflict with the Greek maritime forces. Then the Emperor stirred up against him the sultan of Nicaea, who invited Tzachas to a festival and killed him with his own hand. Thereupon the sultan came to a peaceful agreement with Alexius. Thus the critical situation of 1091 was successfully settled for the Empire, and the following year, 1092, proceeded under quite different conditions.

In the desperate days of 1091 Alexius had sought allies not only among the Cuman barbarians, but, apparently, also among the western Latins. Anna Comnena wrote that Alexius “was anxious to dispatch messages calling on mercenaries from all sides.” That such messages were dispatched also to the West is shown from another passage of the same authoress who stated that, soon afterwards, Alexius “was expecting the mercenaries from Rome.”

In connection with these events, historians usually discuss the problem of a message of Alexius Comnenus to his old friend, Count Robert of Flanders, who some years before had passed through Constantinople on his way back from the Holy Land.

In his letter the Emperor depicted the desperate situation “of the most Holy Empire of the Greek Christians which is oppressed by the Patzinaks and Turks,” told of the insulting and murdering of the Christians, children, youths, women, and girls, as well as of the almost complete occupation of the Empire’s territory by enemies; “there is left almost nothing but Constantinople, which our enemies threaten to take away from us in the very near future, unless speedy help from God and from the faithful Latin Christians reach us;” the Emperor “is running before the Turks and Patzinaks” from one city to another and prefers to deliver Constantinople into the hands of the Latins rather than those of the pagans. In order to stimulate the ardor of the Latins, the message gives a long list of relics of the capital and reminds the Count of the uncounted wealth and treasure accumulated there. “Therefore, hasten with all your people; strain all your forces, lest such treasures fall into the hands of the Turks and Patzinaks …

Endeavor, so long as you have time, that the Christian Empire and, which is still more important, the Holy Sepulcre be not lost to you and that you may have in heaven no doom, but reward. Amen!”

V. Vasilievsky, who referred this message to the year 1091, wrote: “In 1091, from the shores of the Bosphorus, there broke upon western Europe a real wail of despair, a real cry of a drowning man who already was uncertain whether a friendly or unfriendly hand would be lent for his salvation. The Byzantine Emperor did not hesitate now to reveal before the eyes of the foreigners the whole depth of shame, dishonor, and humiliation, into which the Empire of the Greek Christians had been precipitated.

This document, depicting in such vivid colors the critical situation of Byzantium about 1091, has been the cause of many discussions among scholars. It survives only in a Latin version. Opinions are divided: some, for example the Russian scholars V.

Vasilievsky and Th. Uspensky, considered the letter authentic; others, for example the French scholar Riant, regarded it as spurious. The more recent historians who have been interested in this problem incline to recognize, with some limitations, the authenticity of the message, i.e. they acknowledge the existence of an original text, which has not been preserved of the message which was addressed by Alexius Comnenus to Robert of Flanders. The French historian Chalandon admitted that the middle part of the message was composed on the basis of the original letter; but the Latin message was drawn up by somebody in the West to stimulate the crusaders a short time before the First Crusade (in the form of an excitatorium). The more recent publisher of the letter and investigator of it, the German scholar, Hagenmeyer, agreed in substance, but with some restrictions, with the opinion of Vasilievsky concerning the authenticity of Alexius’ message. In 1924 B. Leib wrote that this letter was but an amplification made shortly after the Council of Clermont and was doubtless inspired by the authentic message that the Emperor had sent Robert to remind him of the promised reinforcements. Finally, in 1928, Bréhier wrote: “It is possible, following Chalandon’s hypothesis, that Robert, after his return to Flanders, forgot his promise; then Alexius sent him an embassy and letter, but, of course, entirely different from the text which has come down to us. As far as this apocryphal document is concerned, it might have been composed, perhaps with the aid of the authentic letter, at the moment of the siege of Antioch, in 1098, to demand reinforcements in the West. Alexius’ letter, then, has nothing to do with the origins of the crusade.” In his history of the First Crusade, H. Sybel considered the letter of Alexius to Robert of Flanders an official documentary source with reference to the crusade.

Some time is devoted to the question of the message of Alexius Comnenus to Robert of Flanders, because with it is partly connected the important problem whether the Emperor called upon the aid of the West or not. The statement of the contemporary Anna Comnena that Alexius was sending messages to the West, supports the fact that he must have sent a message to Robert of Flanders, and the probability that this message is the basis of the embellished Latin text which exists today. It is very probable that the original message was sent by Alexius in the critical year 1091. It is also very probable that in 1188-89 an imperial message was sent to the Croatian King Zvonimir to urge him to take part in the struggle of Alexius Comnenus “against the Pagans and Infidels.”

The success of Alexius with external enemies was followed by similar success with internal enemies. Conspirators and pretenders, who wished to profit by the difficult situation of the Byzantine Empire, were discovered and punished.

Besides the peoples mentioned, the Serbs and Magyars (Hungarians) had begun to assume importance under Alexius Comnenus before the First Crusade. In the second half of the eleventh century Serbia became independent, and her independence was sealed by the adoption by the Serbian prince of the title of king (kral). His was the first kingdom of Serbia with the capital at Scodra (Skadar, Scutari). The Serbs had taken part in the army of Alexius during his war with the Normans and abandoned the Emperor at the critical moment. But after Dyrrachium had been reconquered by Byzantium from the Normans, hostilities between Alexius and Serbia began, and under the difficult circumstances of the Empire, their issue could not be very fortunate for the Emperor.

Shortly before the crusade, however, a peace was made between the Serbs and the Empire.

Relations with Hungary (Ugria), which had previously taken an active part in the Bulgaro-Byzantine war of the tenth century under Simeon, became strained in the reign of Alexius Comnenus. At the end of the eleventh century continental Hungary, under the kings of the dynasty of Arpad, began to expand south toward the sea, toward the coast of Dalmatia. This was the cause of dissatisfaction both to Venice and to Byzantium. Thus the international policy of the Empire toward the time of the First Crusade had grown considerably more extended and complicated, and raised new problems.

But almost at the end of the eleventh century Alexius Comnenus, who had

overcome the numerous dangers which threatened him and seemed to have created peaceful conditions for the Empire, could gradually prepare for the struggle with the eastern Seljuqs. With that struggle in view, the Emperor undertook a number of offensive measures. Then he heard of the approach of the first crusading troops to the borders of his empire. The First Crusade had begun; it changed Alexius’ plans and led him and the Empire into new ways which were later to prove fatal to Byzantium.

The First Crusade and Byzantium.

The epoch of the crusades is one of the most important in the history of the world, especially from the point of view of economic history and general culture. For a long time the religious problem pushed into the background the other sides of this complicated and manifold movement. The first country to realize the full importance of the crusades was France, where in 1806 the French Academy and then the National Institute offered a prize for the best work which had for its purpose: “To examine the influence of the Crusades upon the civil liberty of the peoples of Europe, their civilization, and the progress of knowledge, commerce, and industry.” Of course, at the beginning of the nineteenth century it was premature to discuss thoroughly such a problem; it has not even yet been solved. But it is worth pointing out that the epoch of the crusades ceased to be discussed exclusively from the narrower standpoint of the religious movements of the Middle Ages. Two volumes were crowned in 1808 by the French Academy: one book by a German, A. Heeren, which was published at the same time in German and French under the title An Essay on the Influence of the Crusades Upon Europe; the other book, the work of the Frenchman M. Choiseul Daillecourt, Upon the Influence of the Crusades on the State of the European Peoples. Though both these studies are now out of date, they do not lack interest, especially the first.

Of course, the crusades are the most important epoch in the history of the struggle of the two world religions, Christianity and Islam — the struggle which has been carried on from the seventh century. But in this process not only religious idealistic motives were involved. Even in the First Crusade, which reflected most plainly the ideals of the crusade movement to deliver the Holy Land from the hands of the infidel, secular objects and earthly interests were already evident. “There were two parties among the crusaders, that of the religious-minded, and that of the politicians.”

Citing these words of the German scholar Kugler, the French historian, Chalandon, added: “This statement of Kugler’s is absolutely true.” But the more closely scholars examine internal conditions of the life of western Europe in the eleventh century, especially the economic development of the Italian cities at that time, the more they are convinced that economic phenomena also played a very significant part in the preparation and carrying out of the First Crusade. With every new crusade the secular side was felt more and more strongly; finally, during the Fourth Crusade, this secular standpoint gained a definite victory over the primitive idea of the movement, as the taking of Constantinople and the foundation of the Latin Empire by the crusaders in 1204 demonstrated.

Byzantium played such an important role in that epoch that the study of the Eastern Empire is necessary to a full and complete understanding of the origin and development of the crusades. Moreover, the majority of those who have studied the crusades have treated the problem from a too “occidental” point of view, with the tendency to make of the Greek Empire “the scapegoat charged with all the faults of the crusaders.”

Since their first appearance in the stage of world history in the fourth decade of the seventh century, the Arabs, with extraordinary rapidity, had conquered on the territory of the Eastern Empire, Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia, the eastern regions of Asia Minor, Egypt, the northern seashore of Africa, and then Spain, the major part of which had belonged to the Visigoths. In the second half of the seventh and at the beginning of the eighth century, the Arabs had twice besieged Constantinople, which had been rescued, not without difficulty, by the energy and talent of the Emperors Constantine IV and Leo III Isaurian. In 732 the Arabs who had invaded Gaul from beyond the Pyrenees were stopped by Charles Martel near Poitiers. In the ninth century they conquered Crete, and toward the beginning of the tenth century Sicily and the major part of the southern Italian possessions of the Eastern Empire passed over into their hands.

These Arabian conquests were of the greatest importance for the political and economic situation of Europe. The astounding offensive of the Arabs, as H. Pirenne said,

“changed the face of the world. Its sudden thrust had destroyed ancient Europe. It had put an end to the Mediterranean commonwealth in which it had gathered its strength

… The Mediterranean had been a Roman lake; now it became, for the most part, a Moslem lake.” This statement of the Belgian historian must be accepted with some reservations. Commercial relations between western Europe and the eastern countries were restricted by the Muslims but were not suspended. Merchants and pilgrims continued to travel back and forth, and exotic oriental products were available in Europe, for example, in Gaul.

Primitive Islam had distinguished itself by tolerance. Some separate cases of assaults on the churches and Christians occurred in the tenth century, but they had no religious motive so that such unfortunate incidents were only sporadic. In the conquered regions the Arabs had, for the most part, preserved churches and Christian service. They had not prohibited the practice of Christian charity. In the epoch of Charlemagne, at the beginning of the ninth century, there were inns and hospitals in Palestine for the pilgrims; new churches and monasteries were being restored and built and for that purpose Charlemagne sent copious “alms” to Palestine. Libraries were being organized in the monasteries. Pilgrims visited the Holy Land unmolested. These relations between the Frankish empire of Charlemagne and Palestine, in connection with the exchange of some embassies between the western monarch and the caliph Harun ar-Rashid, led to the conclusion supported by some scholars that a kind of Frankish protectorate had been established in Palestine under Charlemagne as far as the Christian interests in the Holy Land were concerned, the political power of the caliph in that country remaining untouched. On the other hand, another group of historians, denying the importance of those relations, say that the “protectorate” was never established and that “it is a myth quite analogous to the legend of Charlemagne’s crusade to the Holy Land.” The title of one of the recent articles on this subject is “The Legend of Charlemagne’s Protectorate in the Holy Land.” The term “Frankish protectorate,” like many other terms, is conventional and rather vague; but a discussion of it is important in order to show that already at the opening of the ninth century the Frankish Empire had very important interests in Palestine, a fact which is of considerable significance for the further development of the international relations preceding the crusades.

In the second half of the tenth century the brilliant victories of the Byzantine troops under Nicephorus Phocas and John Tzimisces over the eastern Arabs made Aleppo and Antioch in Syria vassal states of the Empire, and after that the Byzantine army probably entered Palestine. These military successes of Byzantium had a repercussion in Jerusalem, so that the French historian Bréhier judged it possible to speak of the Byzantine protectorate over the Holy Land which put an end to the Frankish protectorate there.

When, in the second half of the tenth century (in 969), Palestine had passed over to the Egyptian dynasty of the Fatimids, the new position of the country seems not to have brought about, at least at the beginning, any substantial change in the life of the eastern Christians, and pilgrims continued to come to Palestine in safety. But in the eleventh century circumstances changed. The insane Fatimid caliph Hakim, the

“Egyptian Nero,” began a violent persecution of Christians and Jews all over his possessions. In 1009 he caused the Temple of the Resurrection and Golgotha in Jerusalem to be destroyed. In his rage for destroying churches he stopped only because he was afraid that a similar fate would befall mosques in Christian regions.

When L. Bréhier wrote of the Byzantine protectorate over the Holy Land, he had in view a statement of an Arabian historian of the eleventh century, Yahya of Antioch.

The latter says that in 1012 a Bedouin chief who had revolted against the caliph Hakim took possession of Syria, forced the Christians to restore the Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem, and made a bishop the patriarch of Jerusalem; then the Bedouin “helped him to build up the Church of the Resurrection and restore many places in it as much as he could.” Interpreting this text the Russian scholar V. Rosen remarked that the Bedouin acted “probably in order to win the good will of the Greek Emperor.” Bréhier ascribed Rosen’s hypothesis to Yahya’s text. Since this important statement of the Bedouin’s motive does not belong to Yahya, one may not affirm Bréhier’s theory of the Byzantine protectorate over Palestine as positively as he does in his book.

But in any event, that was only the beginning of the restoration of the Holy Land.

After Hakim’s death in 1021, a time of tolerance for the Christians ensued. A peace was made between Byzantium and the Fatimids, and the Byzantine emperors were able to take up the real restoration of the Temple of the Resurrection. The restoration of the Temple was completed in the middle of the eleventh century under Emperor Constantine Monomachus. The Christian quarter was surrounded by a strong wall.

Pilgrims again could go to the Holy Land, and among the other pilgrims mentioned in the sources is a most celebrated man, Robert the Devil, Duke of Normandy, who died at Nicaea in 1035, on his way back from Jerusalem. Perhaps at the same time, in the fourth decade of the eleventh century, the famous Varangian of that epoch, Harald Haardraade, supported by a body of Scandinavians who arrived with him from the north, came to Jerusalem and fought against the Muslims in Syria and Asia Minor.

Vexations against the Christians soon recommenced. In 1056 the Holy Sepulchre was closed, and more than three hundred Christians were exiled from Jerusalem.

The destroyed Temple of the Resurrection was evidently restored with

magnificence. A Russian pilgrim, the abbot (igumen) Daniel, who visited Palestine in the first years of the twelfth century, soon after the foundation of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1099, enumerated the columns of the Temple, described its marble decorated floor and the six doors, and gave interesting information on the mosaics. He also described many churches, relics, and places of Palestine mentioned in the New Testament. Daniel and an Anglo-Saxon pilgrim, Saewulf, his contemporary, told how

“the pagan Saracens” (i.e. Arabs), hiding themselves in the mountains and caves, sometimes attacked the traveling pilgrims and robbed them. “The Saracens, always laying snares for the Christians, lie hidden in the hollow places of the mountains and the caves of the rocks, watching day and night, and always on the lookout for those whom they can attack.”

The Arabs’ tolerance toward the Christians also manifested itself in the West.

When, for instance, at the end of the eleventh century the Spaniards conquered the city of Toledo from the Arabs, they were surprised to find Christian churches in the city untouched and to learn that services had continued there undisturbed. Similarly, when at the end of the eleventh century the Normans took possession of Sicily, they found there, in spite of more than two hundred years of Arabian rule in the island, a very large number of Christians who were freely professing their faith. Thus the first incident of the eleventh century which struck the Christian west painfully was the destruction of the Temple of the Resurrection and Golgotha in 1009. Another event connected with the Holy Land took place in the second half of the eleventh century.

The Seljuq Turks, after they had crushed the Byzantine troops at Manzikert, in 1071, founded the Sultanate of Rum or Iconium in Asia Minor and proceeded to advance successfully in all directions. Their military successes had repercussion at Jerusalem: in 1070, a Turkish general, Atzig, marched upon Palestine and captured Jerusalem. Shortly after the city revolted, so that Atzig had to lay siege to it again. Jerusalem was retaken and terribly sacked. Then the Turks conquered Antioch in Syria, established themselves at Nicaea, Cyzicus, and Smyrna in Asia Minor, and occupied the islands Chios, Lesbos, Samos, and Rhodes. The condition of European pilgrims in Jerusalem and other places grew worse. Even if the persecution and insults of the Christians that many scholars ascribe to the Turks are exaggerated, it is very difficult to agree with the judgment of W. Ramsay on the mildness of the Turks toward the Christians: “The Seljuk sultans governed their Christian subjects in a most lenient and tolerant fashion, and even the prejudiced Byzantine historians drop a few hints at the Christians in many cases preferring the rule of the sultans to that of the emperors … Christians under the Seljuk rule were happier than the heart of the Byzantine Empire, and most miserable of all were the Byzantine frontier lands exposed to continual raids. As to religious persecution there is not a trace of it in the Seljuk period.”

The destruction of the Temple of the Resurrection in 1009 and the conquest of Jerusalem by the Turks in the eighth decade of the eleventh century were facts that profoundly affected the religious-minded masses of western Europe and evoked a powerful emotion of religious enthusiasm. Moreover, many Europeans realized that if Byzantium fell under the pressure of the Turks the whole of the Christian West would be exposed to terrible danger. “After so many centuries of terror and devastations,”

said a French historian, “will the Mediterranean world succumb again to the assault of the barbarians? Such is the anguished question that is raised toward 1075. Western Europe, slowly reconstructed in the course of the eleventh century, will take charge of replying to it: to the mass attacks of the Turks it prepares to reply by a crusade.”

But the most threatening danger from the ever-growing power of the Turks was felt by the Byzantine emperors, who, after the defeat of Manzikert, seemed to be unable to resist the Turks successfully with their own forces. Their eyes were turned to the West, mainly to the Pope, who as the spiritual head of the western European world could, through his influence, induce the western European peoples to furnish Byzantium with adequate assistance. Sometimes, as the message of Alexius Comnenus to Robert of Flanders shows, the emperors also appealed to individual rulers of the West. But Alexius had in mind merely some auxiliary troops, not powerful and well-organized armies.

The popes replied very favorably to the appeals of the eastern emperors. Besides the purely idealistic side of the question — aid for Byzantium and thereby for all the Christian world, as well as the liberation of the Holy Land — the popes had also in view, of course, the interests of the Catholic church; in case of the success of the enterprise the popes could hope to increase their influence still more and restore the eastern church to the bosom of the Catholic church. They could not forget the rupture of 1054.

The original idea of the Byzantine Emperor to get some mercenary auxiliaries from the West gradually developed, especially under the influence of papal appeals, into the idea of a crusade, that is to say, into the idea of a mass movement of the western European peoples, sometimes under the direction of their sovereigns and the most eminent military leaders.

As late as the second half of the nineteenth century scholars believed that the first idea of the crusades and the first call was expressed at the close of the tenth century by the famous Gerbert, later Pope Sylvester II. Among his letters is one “From the ruined Church of Jerusalem to the Church Universal;” in this letter the Church of Jerusalem appealed to the Church Universal, asking the latter to come to her aid. Today the best authorities on Gerbert’s problem consider this letter an authentic work of Gerbert written before he became pope; but they see in it no project of a crusade, merely an ordinary message to the faithful asking them to send charity to support Christian institutions at Jerusalem.” At the close of the tenth century the position of the Christians in Palestine was not yet such as to call for any crusading movement.

Yet before the Comneni, under the pressure of the Seljuq and Patzinak danger, the Emperor Michael VII Ducas had sent a message to Pope Gregory VII begging him for help and promising the reunion of the churches. Also the pope had written many letters, in which he exhorted his correspondents to support the perishing Empire. In his letter to the Duke of Burgundy he wrote: “We hope … that, after the conquest of the Normans, we shall cross over to Constantinople to help the Christians, who, deeply depressed by frequent attacks of the Saracens, anxiously beg that we lend them a helping hand.” In another letter Gregory VII spoke “of the pitiful destiny of the great Empire.” In a letter to the German king, Henry IV, the pope wrote that “most of transmarine Christianity is being destroyed by the pagans in crushing defeat and, like cattle, they are every day being murdered, and the Christian race is being exterminated;” they humbly beseech help in order “that the Christian religion may not entirely perish in our day, which Heaven forbid;” following the papal exhortations the Italians and the other Europeans (ultramontani) are equipping an army, of more than 50,000, and planning, if possible, to establish the pope at the head of the expedition; they are willing to rise against the enemies of God and to reach the Holy Sepulchre. “I am induced to do so,” the pope continued, “because the Constantinopolitan Church, which disagrees with us concerning the Holy Ghost, desires to come to an agreement with the Apostolic throne.”

In these letters the question was not only of a crusade for the liberation of the Holy Land. Gregory VII was planning an expedition to Constantinople in order to save Byzantium, the chief defender of Christianity in the East. The aid procured by the pope was to be followed by the reunion of the churches and by the return of the “schismatic”

eastern church to the bosom of the “true” Catholic church. One is given the impression that in these letters it is a question rather of the protection of Constantinople than of the conquest of the Holy Land. Moreover, all these letters were written before the eighth decade of the eleventh century, when Jerusalem passed into the hands of the Turks and when the position of the Palestinian Christians grew worse. Thus, in Gregory’s plans the Holy War against Islam seems to have taken second place; it seems that, in arming the western Christians for the struggle with the Muslim east, the pope had in view the “schismatic” east. The latter seemed to Gregory more horrid than Islam. In one of his briefs concerning the regions occupied by the Spanish Moors, the pope openly declared that he would prefer to leave these regions in the hands of the infidel, that is to say, of the Muhammedans, rather than see them fall into the hands of the disobedient sons of the church. If the messages of Gregory VII embody the first plan of the crusades, they show the connection between this plan and the separation of the churches in 1054.

Like Michael VII, Alexius Comnenus, especially under the pressure of the horrors of 1091, made appeals to the West, asking that mercenary auxiliaries be sent. But the interference of the Cumans and the violent death of the Turkish pirate Tzachas ended the danger, so that from the point of view of Alexius, western auxiliaries seemed useless to the Empire in the following year, 1092. Meanwhile, the movement, created by Gregory VII in the West, spread widely, thanks especially to the confident and active Pope Urban II. The modest auxiliaries asked for by Alexius Comnenus were forgotten.

Now it was a question of a mass movement.

The first critical investigation of a German historian, H. Sybel, published for the first time in 1841, advanced these principal causes for the crusades, from the western point of view: (1) The first is the general religious spirit of the Middle Ages which increased in the eleventh century owing to the Cluniac movement. In a society depressed by the consciousness of its sins there is a tendency to asceticism, to seclusion, to spiritual deeds, and to pilgrimage; the theology and philosophy of the time were also deeply affected by the same influence. This spirit was the first general cause which roused the masses of the population to the deed of freeing the Holy Sepulchre.

(2) The second is the growth of the papacy in the eleventh century, especially under Gregory VII. Crusades seemed very desirable to the popes, because they opened wide horizons for the further development of the papal power and authority; if the popes succeeded in the enterprise whose initiators and spiritual guides they were to become, they would spread their authority over many new countries and restore “schismatic”

Byzantium to the bosom of the Catholic church. Thus, their idealistic desire to aid the eastern Christians and to deliver the Holy Land intermingled with their wish to increase their power and authority. (3) Worldly and secular motives also played a considerable part with the different social classes. Sharing in the general religious emotion, the feudal nobility, barons, and knights, were filled with the spirit of adventure and with the love of war. An expedition against the East was an unequaled opportunity to satisfy their ambition and bellicosity, and to increase their means. As far as the lower classes were concerned, the peasants, ground down by the burden of feudal despotism and swept away by rudimentary religious feeling, saw in the crusade at least a temporary relief from feudal oppression, a postponement of payment of their debts, a certain security for their families and their modest chattels, and release from sins. Later, other phenomena were emphasized by scholars in connection with the origin of the First Crusade.

In the eleventh century western pilgrimages to the Holy Land were particularly numerous. Sometimes pilgrimages were made by very large groups; along with the individual pilgrimages there were real expeditions to the Holy Land. In 1026-27 seven hundred pilgrims, at whose head was a French abbot and among whom were many Norman knights, visited Palestine. In the same year William, count of Angoulême, followed by several abbots of the west of France and by a great number of nobles, made a voyage to Jerusalem. In 1033 there was such a congestion of pilgrims at the Holy Sepulchre as had never been seen before. But the most famous pilgrimage took place in 1064-65, when more than seven thousand persons (usually said to be more than twelve thousand) under the leadership of Günther, the bishop of Bamberg, in Germany, undertook a pilgrimage. They passed through Constantinople and Asia Minor, and, after many adventures and losses, reached Jerusalem. The sources on this great pilgrimage state that “out of seven thousand, not two thousand returned,” and these came back “measurably attenuated in material resources.” Günther himself, the leader of the pilgrimage, died prematurely, “one of the many lives lost in this adventure.”

In connection with these precrusading peaceful pilgrimages the question has been raised whether the eleventh century might be regarded, as it has rather often been, as a period of transition from peaceful pilgrimages to the military expeditions of the crusading epoch. Many scholars have tried to prove that, because of new conditions established in Palestine after the Turkish conquest, troops of pilgrims began to travel armed to be able to defend themselves against possible attacks. Now, owing to E.

Joranson, the fact has been established that the greatest pilgrimage of the eleventh century was made up exclusively of unarmed men; and in this connection inevitably rises the question “whether any pilgrimage in the pre-crusading period really was an expedition under arms.” Of course, some of the pilgriming knights were armed, but

“though some of them wore coats of mail they were still peaceful pilgrims,” and they were not crusaders. They played a considerable part in the history of the origin of the crusades, however, by informing western Europeans of the situation in the Holy Land and awakening and maintaining interest in it. All these pilgrimaging expeditions took place before the Turks conquered Palestine. One of the results of the more recent investigation of the pilgrimages of the eleventh century before the Turkish conquest is the discovery that pilgrims in Palestine were sometimes maltreated by the Arabs many years before the Seljuq occupation of that land, so that the statement that “as long as the Arabs held Jerusalem, the Christian pilgrims from Europe could pass unmolested must now be considered too positive.

There is no information on pilgrimages from Byzantium to the Holy Land in the eleventh century. A Byzantine monk, Epiphane, the author of the first Greek itinerary to the Holy Land, described Palestine in the precrusading period, but the period of his life cannot be fixed definitely, and scholars variously place it between the end of the eighth century and the eleventh.

Before the First Crusade Europe had actually experienced three veritable crusades: the wars in Spain against the Moors, the Norman conquest of Apulia and Sicily, and the Norman conquest of England in 1066. Moreover, a political and economic movement occurred in Italy in the eleventh century, centered in Venice. The pacification of the Adriatic coast laid a solid foundation for the maritime power of Venice, and the famous charter of 1082 granted to Venice by Alexius Comnenus opened to the Republic of St. Mark the Byzantine markets. “On that day began the world commerce of Venice.” At that time Venice, like some other south Italian cities which still remained under the power of Byzantium, did not hesitate to traffic with Muhammedan ports. At the same time Genoa and Pisa, which in the tenth century and at the beginning of the eleventh had been raided several times by the African Muhammedan pirates, undertook in 1015-16 an expedition against Sardinia, which belonged to the Muhammedans. They succeeded in conquering Sardinia and Corsica.

The ships of these two cities thronged the ports of the opposite African coast, and in 1087, encouraged by the pope, they successfully attacked Mehdia on the north African coast. All these expeditions against the infidels were due not only to religious enthusiasm or to the spirit of adventure, but also to economic reasons.

Another factor in the history of western Europe which is associated with the origin of the crusades is the increase in population in some countries, which began at about 1100. It is definitely known that the population increased in Flanders and France.

One aspect of the mass movement at the end of the eleventh century was the medieval colonial expansion from some western European countries, especially France. The eleventh century in France was a time of frequent famines and drought and of violent epidemics and severe winters. These hard conditions of living made the population think of far distant lands full of abundance and prosperity. Taking all these factors into consideration one may conclude that, towards the end of the eleventh century, Europe was mentally and economically ready for a crusading enterprise on a large scale.

The general situation before the First Crusade was entirely different from the situation before the Second. These fifty-one years, 1096-1147, were one of the most important epochs in history. In the course of these years the economic, religious, and whole cultural aspect of Europe changed radically; a new world was opened to western Europe. The subsequent crusades did not add very much to the achievements of this period; they only continued the processes developed in these fifty-one years. And it is strange to recall that an Italian historian names the first crusades “sterile insanities”

(sterili insanie).

The First Crusade presents the first organized offensive of the Christian world against the infidels, and this offensive was not limited to central Europe, Italy, and Byzantium. It began in the southwestern corner of Europe, in Spain, and ended in the boundless steppes of Russia.

As to Spain, Pope Urban II, in his letter of 1089 to the Spanish counts, bishops, vice comites and other nobles and powerful men, authorized them to stay in their own land instead of going to Jerusalem and to tax their energy for the restoration of Christian churches destroyed by the Moors.” This was the right flank of the crusading movement against the infidels.

In the northeast, Russia desperately defended itself against the barbarian hordes of the Polovtzi (Cumans), who appeared in the southern steppes about the middle of the eleventh century, laid waste the country, and destroyed trade by occupying all the routes leading east and south from Russia. The Russian historian, Kluchevsky, wrote:

“This struggle between the Russians and Polovtzi — a struggle lasting for well-nigh two centuries — was not without its place in European history at large; for while the West was engaged in crusades against the forces of Asia and the Orient, and a similar movement was in progress in the Iberian peninsula against the Moors, Rus [Russia] was holding the left flank of Europe. Yet this historical service cost her dear, since not only did it dislodge her from her old settlements on the Dnieper, but it caused the whole trend of her life to become altered.” In this way Russia participated in the general western European crusading movement; defending herself, she at the same time defended Europe against the barbarous infidels. “Had the Russians thought of taking the cross,” said Leib, “they should have been told that their first duty was to serve Christianity by defending their own land, as the Popes wrote to the Spaniards.”

The Scandinavian kingdoms also participated in the First Crusade, but they joined the main army in smaller bands. In 1097 a Danish noble, Svein, led a band of crusaders to Palestine. In the north nothing was heard of any great religious enthusiasm, and, as far as is known, most of the Scandinavian crusaders were actuated less by Christian zeal than by love of war and adventure, and the prospect of gain and renown.”

There were two Christian countries in the Caucasus, Armenia and Georgia; but after the defeat of the Byzantine army at Manzikert in 1071 Armenia had come under the power of the Turks, so that there could be no question of the participation of the Caucasian Armenians in the First Crusade. As to Georgia, the Seljuqs had taken possession of that land in the eleventh century, and only after the taking of Jerusalem by the crusaders in 1099 did the king of Georgia, David the Restorer, drive out the Turks. This occurred in about 1100, or, as a Georgian chronicle asserted, when “a Frankish army had set forth on a march and, with divine assistance, taken Jerusalem and Antioch, Georgia restored itself, and David became powerful.”

When in 1095, in connection with west European complications and projected reforms, the victorious Pope Urban II summoned a council to meet at Piacenza, an embassy from Alexius Comnenus was present to make an appeal for aid. This fact has been denied by some scholars; but the more recent investigators of this problem have come to the conclusion that an appeal for aid was really made by Alexius at Piacenza. Of course, this was not “the final impulse,” which caused the First Crusade, as Sybel asserted. As before, if Alexius appealed for aid at Piacenza, he did not dream of crusading armies; he wanted no crusade, but mercenaries against the Turks, who during the last three years had become a great menace in their successful advance in Asia Minor. About the year 1095, Qilij Arslan had been elected sultan in Nicaea. “He sent for the wives and children of the men then staying in Nicaea, and bade them live there, and made this city the dwelling-place, as one might say, of the Sultans.” In other words Qilij Arslan made Nicaea his capital. In connection with those Turkish successes Alexius might have appealed for aid at Piacenza; but his intention was not a crusade to the Holy Land, but assistance against the Turks. His request was favorably received at Piacenza.

But unfortunately there is little information about this episode. A recent historian remarked, “From the council of Piacenza to the arrival of the crusaders in the Byzantine empire, the relations between the East and the West are veiled in tantalizing obscurity.”

In November 1095, at Clermont (in Auvergne, middle France) the famous council was held. At this meeting so many people had assembled that not enough room was found in town for the visitors, and the multitude was quartered in the open air. After the close of the council, at which some most important current matters, strictly ecclesiastical, were discussed, Urban II delivered a very effective oration, the original text of which has been lost. Some witnesses of the council who wrote down the oration later from memory, give texts which differ very much from one another. Fervently relating the persecutions of the Christians in the Holy Land, the pope urged the multitude to take arms for the liberation of the Holy Sepulchre and of the eastern Christians. With cries of “Deus lo volt” (“God wills it” or “It is the will of God”) the throngs rushed to the pope. At his proposal, a red cross worn on the right shoulder was adopted as the emblem of the future crusaders (hence the name “crusaders”). They were promised remission of sins, relief from debts, and protection for their property during their absence. There was no compulsion; but there must be no turning back, and the renegade was to be excommunicated and regarded as an outlaw. From France enthusiasm spread all over Italy, Germany, and England. A vast movement to the east was forming, and the real scale and importance of it could not be anticipated or realized at the Council of Clermont.

Therefore, the movement aroused at the Council of Clermont, which in the ensuing year shaped itself into the form of a crusade, was the personal work of Urban II; and for carrying this enterprise into effect he found favorable conditions in the life of the second half of the eleventh century, not only from a religious, but also from a political and economic point of view.

While the danger that loomed in Asia Minor became steadily more imminent, the First Crusade had practically been decided upon at Clermont. The news of this decision came to Alexius as a sudden and disconcerting surprise; disconcerting because he neither expected nor desired assistance in the form of a crusade. When Alexius called mercenaries from the west, he called them for the protection of Constantinople, that is to say, his own state; and the idea of the liberation of the Holy Land, which had not belonged to the Empire for more than four centuries, had for him a secondary significance.

For Byzantium, the problem of a crusade did not exist in the eleventh century.

Neither on the part of the masses nor of the Emperor himself did there exist religious enthusiasm, nor were there any preachers of a crusade. For Byzantium the political problem of saving the Empire from its eastern and northern enemies had nothing to do with the far-off expedition to the Holy Land. The Eastern Empire had witnessed

“crusades” of her own. There had been the brilliant and victorious expeditions of Heraclius against Persia in the seventh century, when the Holy Land and the Holy Cross were restored to the Empire. Then there had been the victorious campaigns under Nicephorus Phocas, John Tzimisces, and Basil II against the Arabs in Syria when the Emperors definitely planned to regain possession of Jerusalem. This plan had not been realized, and Byzantium, under the menacing pressure of the overwhelming Turkish successes in Asia Minor in the eleventh century, had given up all hope of recovering the Holy Land. For Byzantium the Palestine problem at that time was too abstract; it was not connected with the vital interests of the Empire. In 1090-91 the Empire was on the verge of ruin, and when Alexius asked for western auxiliary troops, and was, answered by the coming of crusaders, his motive was to save the Empire. In Alexius’ Muses, written in iambic meter and supposed to be a sort of political will to his son and heir, John, there are these interesting lines about the First Crusade:

Do you not remember what has happened to me? Do you fail to think of and take into account the movement of the West to this country, the result of which is to be that all-powerful time will disgrace and dishonor the high sublimity of New Rome, and the dignity of the throne! Therefore, my son, it is necessary to take thought for accumulating enough to fill the open mouths of the barbarians, who breathe out hatred upon us, in case there rises up the force of a numerous army hurling lightnings angrily against us, at the same time many of our enemies encircling our city rebell.

With this fragment from Alexius’ Muses one may compare the following passage from Anna Comnena’s Alexiad, also on the First Crusade:

And such an upheaval of both men and women took place then as had never occurred within human memory; the simpler-minded were urged on by the real desire of worshipping at our Lord’s Sepulchre, and visiting the sacred places, but the more astute, especially men like Bohemond and those of like mind, had another secret reason, namely, the hope that while on their travels they might by some means be able to seize the capital itself, finding a pretext for this.

These two statements on the part of the Emperor himself and his learned daughter give an excellent picture of the real attitude of Byzantium towards the crusaders and the crusade itself. In Alexius’ mind, the crusaders were on an equal footing with the barbarians menacing the Empire, the Turks and Patzinaks. Anna Comnena made only a passing mention of the “simpler-minded” among the crusaders who really desired to visit the Holy Land. The idea of a crusade was absolutely alien to the spirit of Byzantium at the end of the eleventh century. Only one desire was overwhelmingly prevalent in the leading Byzantine circles — to gain relief from the pressing Turkish danger from the east and north. Therefore the First Crusade was an exclusively occidental enterprise, politically slightly connected with Byzantium. True, the Eastern Empire gave the crusaders some troops, but these Byzantine troops did not go beyond Asia Minor. In the conquest of Syria and Palestine Byzantium took no part.

In the spring of 1096, owing to the preaching of Peter of Amiens, who is often called Peter the Hermit and to whom a historical legend, now rejected, ascribed the arousing of the crusading movement, there gathered in France a multitude mostly of poor people, small knights, and homeless vagrants, almost without arms, who went through Germany, Hungary, and Bulgaria towards Constantinople. These undisciplined bands under Peter of Amiens and another preacher, Walter the Penniless, hardly realized through what countries they were passing, and unaccustomed to obedience and order, went on their way pillaging and destroying the country. Alexius Comnenus learned with dissatisfaction of the approach of the crusaders, and this dissatisfaction became alarm when he was informed of the pillage and destruction effected by the crusaders on their march. Nearing Constantinople the crusaders, as usual, indulged in pillaging in the neighborhood of the capital. Alexius Comnenus hastened to transport them across the Bosphorus into Asia Minor, where, near Nicaea, they were almost all easily killed by the Turks. Peter the Hermit had returned to Constantinople before the catastrophe.

The episode of Peter the Hermit and his bands was a sort of introduction to the First Crusade. The unfavorable impression left by these bands in Byzantium reacted against the later crusaders. As for the Turks, having so easily done away with Peter’s bands, they were sure they would be victorious also over other crusading troops.

In the summer of 1096 in western Europe, began the crusading movement of counts, dukes, and princes; in other words, a real army assembled. No one of the west European sovereigns took part in the Crusade. Henry IV of Germany was entirely occupied by his struggle with the popes for investiture. Philip I of France was under excommunication for his divorce from his legitimate wife and for his marriage with another woman. The English king, William II Rufus, was engaged in a continuous struggle with his vassals, the church, and the people, and held his power insecurely.

Among the leaders of the crusading army the following should be mentioned.

The first is Godfrey of Bouillon, the duke of Lower Lorraine, to whom a later legend imparted such a pious character that it is difficult to discern his real features; in reality, he was a brave and capable soldier and a religious-minded man, who wished in this expedition to repair losses sustained in his European possessions. His two brothers took part in the expedition, and one of them, Baldwin, was to become later the king of Jerusalem. Under Godfrey the Army of Lorraine set forth on the march. Robert, the duke of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror and brother of the king of England, William Rufus, took part in the crusade, but not for religious motives or chivalrous inducements; he was discontented with his small power in his duchy, which, just before his starting, he had pledged to his brother for a certain sum of money. Hugh, count of Vermandois, brother of the king of France, full of ambition, aspired to glory and new possessions and was greatly esteemed by the crusaders. The rude and irascible Robert II, count of Flanders, son of Robert of Flanders, also took part in the expedition and for his crusading exploits was called the Jerusalemite. At the head of the three armies stood the following men: Hugh of Vermandois, at the head of the middle French army; Robert of Normandy and Robert of Flanders, at the head of the two north French armies. At the head of the south French army stood Raymond, count of Toulouse, a very well-known fighter against the Arabs in Spain, a talented leader and a deeply religious man. Finally, Bohemond of Tarentum, son of Robert Guiscard, and his nephew Tancred, who commanded the southern Italian Norman army, had no interest in religion; not improbably they hoped at the first opportunity to even their accounts with Byzantium, whose stubborn enemies they were, and apparently Bohemond had already fixed his ambitions upon the possession of Antioch. Thus, the Normans carried into the crusade a purely worldly and political element which was in contradiction with the original idea of the crusading movement. Bohemond’s army was perhaps the best prepared of all the crusading bands for such an expedition, “for there were many men in it who had come into contact both with the Saracens in Sicily and the Greeks in southern Italy.” All the crusading armies pursued their own aims; there was neither general plan nor commander in chief. The chief role in the First Crusade, then, belonged to the French.

One part of the crusading armies went to Constantinople by land, another part by sea. Like Peter the Hermit’s bands, the crusaders ravaged the places they traversed and performed all kinds of violence. A witness of this passage of the crusaders, Theophylact, the archbishop of Bulgaria, explained in one of his letters the cause of his long silence and thereby accuses the crusaders; he wrote: “My lips are compressed; first of all, the passage of the Franks, or their invasion, or I do not know how one may call it, has so affected and seized all of us, that we do not even feel ourselves. We have drunk enough the bitter cup of invasion … As we have been accustomed to Frankish insults, we bear misfortunes more easily than before, because time is a good teacher of all.”

It is obvious that Alexius Comnenus had good reason to distrust such defenders of the crusading idea. The Emperor waited with irritation and alarm for the crusading armies which were approaching his capital on all sides and which in their number were quite unlike the modest bodies of auxiliaries for which he had appealed to the West.

Some historians have accused Alexius and the Greeks of perfidy and disloyalty to the crusaders. Such charges must be rejected, particularly after attention is turned to the pillaging, plundering, and incendiarism of the crusaders on their march. Also one must now reject the severe and antihistoric characterization of Gibbon, who wrote: “In a style less grave than that of history I should compare the Emperor Alexius to the jackal, who is said to follow the steps, and to devour the leavings, of the lion.” Of course, Alexius was not a man humbly to pick up what the crusaders left to him. Alexius Comnenus showed himself a statesman, who understood what a threat to the existence of his Empire the crusaders presented; therefore, his first idea was, as soon as possible, to transport the restless and dangerous comers to Asia Minor, where they were to carry on the task for which they had come to the East, that is to say, fighting the infidels. An atmosphere of rnutual distrust and malevolence was created between the Latins and the Greeks; in their persons stood face to face not only schismatics, but also political antagonists, who later on were to settle their controversy by the power of the sword.

An educated Greek patriot and learned literary man of the nineteenth century (Bikélas) wrote:

To the Western eye the Crusades present themselves in all the noble proportions of a great movement based upon motives purely religious, when Europe … appears the self-sacrificing champion of Christianity and of civilization, in the vigour of her strong youth and the glory of her intellectual morning. It is natural that a certain honourable pride should still inspire any family of the Latin aristocracy which can trace its pedigree to those who fought under the banner of the Cross. But when the Easterners beheld swarms of illiterate barbarians looting and plundering the provinces of the Christian and Roman Empire, and the very men who called themselves the champions of the Faith murdering the Priests of Christ on the ground that they were schismatics, it was equally natural that they should forget that such a movement had originally been inspired by a religious aim and possessed a distinctively Christian character … The appearance (of the crusaders) upon the stage of history is the first act in the final tragedy of the Empire.

The special historian of Alexius Comnenus, Chalandon, was inclined to apply, at least in part, to all the crusaders the characteristics attributed by Gibbon to the followers of Peter the Hermit: “The robbers, who followed Peter the Hermit, were wild beasts, without reason and humanity.”

Thus in 1096 began the epoch of the Crusades, so abounding and rich in its various consequences, and of such great importance both for Byzantium And the East and for western Europe.

The first account of the impression made on the peoples in the East by the beginning of the crusading movement came from an Arabian historian of the twelfth century, Ibn al-Qalanisi: “In this year (A.H. 490 = 19 December 1096 to 8 December 1097) there began to arrive a succession of reports that the armies of the Franks had appeared from the direction of the sea of Constantinople with forces not to be reckoned for multitude. As these reports followed one upon the other, and spread from mouth to mouth far and wide, the people grew anxious and disturbed in mind.”

After the crusaders had gradually assembled at Constantinople, Alexius

Comnenus, considering their troops as mercenary auxiliaries, expressed a wish to be acknowledged the head of the expedition and insisted that an oath of vassalage be sworn to him by the crusaders. A formal treaty was concluded between Alexius and the crusading chiefs, who promised to restore to Alexius, as their suzerain, any towns they should take which had formerly made part of the Byzantine Empire. Unfortunately the terms of the oath of vassalage which the crusading leaders took have not been preserved in their original form. In all likelihood, Alexius’ demands varied concerning different regions. He sought for direct acquisitions in the regions of Asia Minor, which, shortly before, had been lost by the Empire after the defeat of Manzikert (1070, and which were the necessary conditions of the power and secure existence of the Byzantine Empire and Greek nationality. To Syria and Palestine, which had been lost by Byzantium long ago, the Emperor did not lay claim, but confined himself to claiming to be their suzerain.

After crossing to Asia Minor, the crusaders opened hostilities. After a siege, in June 1097, Nicaea surrendered to them, and by virtue of the treaty made with Alexius was delivered to him. The next victory of the crusaders at Dorylaeum (Eski-Shehr), forced the Turks to evacuate the western part of Asia Minor and to draw back into the interior of the country; after that Byzantium had an excellent opportunity to restore its power on the coast of Asia Minor. Despite natural difficulties, climatic conditions, and the resistance of the Muslims, the crusaders advanced far to the east and southeast. In upper Mesopotamia, Baldwin took the city of Edessa and he soon established there his princedom which became the first Latin dominion in the East and a bulwark of the Christians against the Turkish attacks from Asia. But the example of Baldwin had its dangerous reverse side: the other barons might follow his example and found princedoms of their own, which, of course, would inflict great harm on the very aim of the crusade. Later on, this danger was fulfilled.

After a long and exhausting siege, the chief city of Syria, Antioch, a very strong fortress, surrendered to the crusaders; the way to Jerusalem was open. But because of Antioch a violent strife had broken out between the chiefs ending when Bohemond of Tarentum, following Baldwin’s example, became the ruling prince of Antioch. Neither at Edessa nor at Antioch did the crusaders take the vassal oath to Alexius Comnenus. As the greater part of the troops remained with the chiefs who had founded their princedoms, only a very few, 20,000 to 25,000 in number, reached Jerusalem, and they arrived exhausted and thoroughly weakened.

At that time, Jerusalem had passed from the Seljuqs into the hands of a powerful caliph of Egypt, of the Fatimid dynasty. After a violent siege, on the 15th of July 1099, the crusaders took the Holy City by storm and effected therein terrible slaughter. They thoroughly pillaged it, and carried away many treasures. The famous Mosque of Omar was robbed. The conquered country, occupying a narrow seashore strip in the region of Syria and Palestine, received the name of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Godfrey of Bouillon, who consented to accept the title of the “Defender of the Holy Sepulchre,”

was elected king of Jerusalem. The new state was organized on the western feudal pattern.

The First Crusade, which had ended in the formation of the Kingdom of

Jerusalem and of several independent Latin possessions in the east, created a complicated political situation. Byzantium, satisfied with the weakening of the Turks in Asia Minor and with the restoring of a considerable part of that country to the power of the Empire, was alarmed, however, by the appearance of the crusading princedoms at Antioch, Edessa, and Tripoli, which became new political foes of Byzantium. The Empire’s distrust gradually increased to such an extent that, in the twelfth century, Byzantium, opening hostilities against its former allies, the crusaders, did not hesitate to make alliance with its former enemies, the Turks. In their turn, the crusaders settled in their new dominions and fearing the strengthening of the Empire in Asia Minor, also concluded alliances with the Turks against Byzantium. Here, in the twelfth century, it was already obvious that the very idea of crusading enterprise had completely degenerated.

One cannot speak of a complete rupture between Alexius Comnenus and the

crusaders. Of course, the Emperor was deeply discontented with the formation of the Latin possessions in the East, which had taken no vassal oath to him; nevertheless he did not refuse adequate help to the crusaders, for example, in transporting them from the east to the west, on their way home. A rupture took place between the Emperor and Bohemond of Tarentum, who, from the point of view of Byzantine interests, had become excessively powerful at Antioch, at the expense of his neighbors, the weak Turkish emirs, and of Byzantine territory. Therefore Antioch became the chief center of Alexius’ aims. Raymond of Toulouse, the head of the Proveçal troops, dissatisfied with his position in the East and also regarding Bohemond as his chief rival, drew closer to Alexius. At that time, for Alexius the fate of Jerusalem had secondary interest.

A struggle between the Emperor and Bohemond was unavoidable. An

opportunity apparently presented itself to Alexius when Bohemond was suddenly captured by the Turks, that is by the Emir Malik Ghazi of the Danishmand dynasty, who at the very end of the eleventh century had conquered Cappadocia and established there an independent possession, which, however, was to be destroyed by the Seljuqs in the second half of the twelfth century. Alexius negotiated with the emir for the delivery of Bohemond in return for a certain amount of money, but the negotiations came to nothing. Bohemond was redeemed by others and returned to Antioch. On the basis of the treaty made with the crusaders, Alexius demanded that Bohemond deliver Antioch to him; but Bohemond decisively refused to do so.

At that time, in 1104, the Muslims won a great victory over Bohemond and the other Latin princes at Harran, south of Edessa. This defeat of the crusaders nearly destroyed the Christian dominions in Syria and reinvigorated the hopes both of Alexius and of the Muslims; both gladly anticipated Bohemond’s unavoidable weakening. The battle of Harran destroyed his plans to establish in the East a powerful Norman state; he realized that he did not have strength enough to go to war again against the Muslims and the Emperor, his sworn enemy. His further stay in the East seemed to him aimless. Bohemond therefore determined to strike a blow to the Empire in Constantinople itself, with new troops collected in Europe. Having entrusted his nephew Tancred with the regency of Antioch, he embarked and sailed to Apulia. Anna Comnena gave an interesting though fictitious account, written not without humor, of how, in order to be safer from the Greek ships, Bohemond simulated death, was put into a coffin, and thus accomplished his crossing to Italy.

Bohemond’s return to Italy was greeted with the greatest enthusiasm. People flocked to gaze at him, said a medieval author, “as if they were going to see Christ himself.” Having gathered troops, Bohemond opened hostilities against Byzantium. The pope favored Bohemond’s plans. His expedition against Alexius, explained an American scholar, “ceased to be a mere political movement; it had now received the approval of the Church and assumed the dignity of a Crusade.”

Bohemond’s troops were probably drawn, for the most part, from France and Italy, but there were also, in all likelihood, English, Germans, and Spaniards in his army.

His plan was to carry out his father Robert Guiscard’s campaign of 1081, to take possession of Dyrrachium (Durazzo) and then through Thessalonica to march upon Constantinople. But the campaign turned out to be unsuccessful for Bohemond. He suffered defeat at Dyrrachium and was forced to make peace with Alexius on humiliating terms. The chief terms of the agreement between Bohemond and Alexius Comnenus were: Bohemond promised to consider himself the vassal of Alexius and his son, John; to take up arms against the Emperor’s enemies; and to hand over to Alexius all conquered lands formerly belonging to the Empire. Those lands which had never been a part of the Empire and which Bohemond gained in any manner, were to be held by him as if they had been granted to him by the Emperor. He promised to make war on his nephew Tancred if Tancred did not consent to submit to the Emperor. The patriarch of Antioch was to be appointed by the Emperor from persons belonging to the Greek Eastern church, so that there would be no Latin patriarch of Antioch. The cities and districts granted to Bohemond are enumerated in the agreement. The document closes with Bohemond’s solemn oath on the cross, the crown of thorns, the nails, and the lance of Christ, that he will fulfill the provisions of the agreement.

With the collapse of Bohemond’s vast and aggressive plans, his stormy career perhaps fatal to the crusading movement, came to its end. For the three last years of his life he was of no particular importance. He died in Apulia in 1111.

Bohemond’s death made Alexius’ position more difficult, because Tancred of Antioch refused to carry into effect his uncle’s agreement, and would not hand Antioch over to the Emperor. Alexius had to begin all over again. The plan of an expedition against Antioch was discussed but was never brought into effect. It was evident that at that time the Empire was unable to undertake the difficult project. Tancred’s death, which occurred soon after Bohemond’s death, made the plan of marching on Antioch no easier. The last years of Alexius’ reign were particularly occupied by nearly annual wars with the Turks in Asia Minor, which often were successful for the Empire.

In the external life of the Empire, Alexius succeeded in a very hard task. Very often Alexius’ activity has been considered and estimated from the point of view of his relations to the crusaders, but not from the point of view of the total of his external policy. Such a point of view is undoubtedly wrong.

In one of his letters, Alexius’ contemporary, the archbishop of Bulgaria, Theophylact, using the words of a Psalm (79:13) compares the Bulgarian province with a grape-vine, whose fruit “is plucked by all who pass by.” This comparison, as says the French historian Chalandon, may be applied to the Eastern Empire of the time of Alexius. All his neighbors tried to take advantage of the weakness of the Empire and to seize some of its regions. The Normans, Patzinaks, Seljuqs, and the crusaders threatened Byzantium. Alexius, who had received the Empire in a state of weakness, succeeded in making adequate resistance to them all and thereby delayed for a considerable time the process of the dissolution of Byzantium. Under Alexius, the frontiers of the state, both in Europe and in Asia, were extended. The Empire’s enemies were forced to recede everywhere, so that, on the territorial side, his rule signifies an incontestable progress. The charges particularly often brought against Alexius concerning his relations to the crusaders must be given up, if we consider Alexius as a sovereign defending the interests of his state, to which the westerners, full of desire to pillage and spoil, were a serious danger. Thus, in his external policy Alexius successfully overcame all difficulties, improved the international position of the Empire, extended its limits, and for a time stopped the progress of the numerous enemies who on all sides pressed against the Empire.

External relations under John II.

Increasing contacts with the western states. — The son and successor of Alexius, John II, was of the emperor-soldier type and spent the major part of his reign among the troops in military enterprises. His external policy chiefly continued that of his father, who had already pointed out all the important problems, European as well as Asiatic, in which the Empire of that time was particularly interested. John set as his goal progress along the political paths entered upon by his father. The father had hindered his enemies from invading Byzantium; the son determined “to take away from his neighbors the lost Greek provinces and dreamt of restoring the Byzantine Empire to its former brilliancy.”

Though he clearly understood the European situation, John was little interested in European affairs. He had from time to time to wage war in Europe, but there his wars were of a strictly defensive character. Only towards the end of his reign, owing to the threatening rise of the Normans, which expressed itself in the union of south Italy with Sicily and the formation of the Kingdom of Sicily, did European affairs become very important to Byzantium. John’s main interest in his external policy was concentrated in Asia Minor. With regard to John’s relations to the West, there were a steadily increasing number of western European states with which Byzantium had to come into contact.

The Norman danger had caused Alexius to draw closer to Venice, who had

pledged herself to support Byzantium with her fleet; thereupon Alexius had granted the Republic of St. Mark quite exceptional trade privileges. The Venetians, who had gone in throngs to the Empire, especially to Constantinople, grew rich and soon formed in the capital a Venetian colony so numerous and wealthy that it began to be of predominant importance. Gradually, forgetting that they were neither in their native country nor in a conquered land, the Venetians began to behave so arrogantly and impertinently towards not only the lower classes of the Byzantine population, but also the high officials and nobility, that they aroused strong discontent in the Empire. The small commercial privileges granted Pisa by Alexius were not important enough to alarm Venice.

In Alexius’ lifetime, relations between the Byzantines and Venetians were not yet particularly strained. But with his death, circumstances changed. Learning that Norman Apulia was having internal troubles and therefore considering the Norman danger to Byzantium already over, John decided to abrogate the commercial treaty that his father had made with Venice. At once, the irritated Venetians sent their fleet to raid the Byzantine islands of the Adriatic and Aegean. Judging an adequate resistance to the Venetian vessels impossible, John was forced, still in the first years of his reign, to enter into negotiations with Venice which led to the complete restoration of the commercial treaty of 1082. Under John, the other Italian maritime cities, like Pisa and Genoa, also enjoyed certain commercial privileges but these, of course, could not be compared with those of Venice.

In these same first years of John’s reign, the Patzinak problem was definitely solved. The Patzinaks, who had been crushed under Alexius Comnenus by the Cumans (Polovtzi), thereafter did not harass the Empire for thirty years. But at the beginning of the reign of John, the Patzinaks, who had somewhat recovered from their defeat, crossed the Danube and invaded the Byzantine territory. The imperial troops inflicted a heavy and decisive defeat upon them. In memory of this victory, John even instituted a special “Patzinak festivity,” which, as the Byzantine historian Nicetas Choniates said,

“was still celebrated at the end of the twelfth century.”[108] After this defeat the Patzinaks had no importance at all in the external history of Byzantium. However, Patzinaks who were captured and who settled within the Empire constituted a separate group in the Byzantine troops and afterwards fought on the side of Byzantium.

The tendency of Hungary (Ugria) to extend its possessions towards the Adriatic coast had already rendered Alexius Comnenus discontented and strained his relations with the Hungarians. It seemed that the marriage of John to a Hungarian princess should improve relations. “But that intercourse,” said the Russian historian C. Grot,

“could not destroy the feeling of mutual distrust and rivalry that, in the course of time, formed in both neighbor states.” Besides the establishment of the Hungarians (Magyars) on the Dalmatian coast, which was dangerous to Byzantium, the increasing rapprochement between Hungary and Serbia was a source of dissatisfaction to the Empire. The Serbs who, along with the Bulgars, had been forced to come to Byzantium at the beginning of the eleventh century under Basil II Bulgaroctonus, had already begun by the middle of this century to revolt. The end of the eleventh century and the beginning of the twelfth was the time of the first liberation of Serbia from Byzantine power. Under John may be noticed a particular rapprochement between Serbia and Hungary, which was ready to help Serbia in obtaining its independence. A Serbian princess was given in marriage to a Hungarian prince. Thus, towards the end of the reign of John, in the northwest a new cause for alarm to Byzantium was created in the close connection of Hungary and Serbia.

John’s military operations against them were fairly successful but had no definite result. An anonymous panegyrist of John, however, praised his military activities in the Balkan peninsula in these bombastic words: “How glorious are your campaigns against the European peoples! He [John] defeated the Dalmatians, terrified the Scythians and Nomads, the whole people living in wagons and unorganized; he coloured the waters of the Danube with much gore and many strong-flowing rivers of blood.”

In the last ten years of the reign of John, the relations to southern Italy completely changed. There a period of troubles was followed by a new epoch of power and glory. Roger II united in his hands Sicily and southern Italy, and on Christmas Day, 1130, he was solemnly crowned in Palermo with the royal crown. Owing to the union of these two territories, Roger II became at once one of the most powerful sovereigns of Europe. It was a tremendous blow to Byzantium. The Emperor, theoretically still claiming some rights to the south Italian lands, considered the occupation of them by the Normans but temporary. The restoration of Italy was a favorite dream of the emperors of the twelfth century. The assumption of the royal title by Roger seemed an offense to the imperial dignity; to recognize this title would have been to give up all rights to the Italian provinces.

The sudden rise of Roger was undesirable not only to Byzantium, but also to the German sovereign, who had important interests in Italy. In view of the common danger, John II formed an entente, first with Lothar of Germany and after the latter’s death, with Conrad III Hohenstaufen; somewhat later this developed into a real alliance between the two Empires. The main object of this entente and later alliance was to destroy the Norman power in Italy. This alliance became very important under John’s successor, Manuel. If John failed to strike a blow at the power of Roger, he succeeded, at least, in preventing him from invading Byzantium. The subsequent wars of Roger with Manuel showed clearly that such a plan of invasion had hovered before his eyes. The most important parts of John’s external policy in the West, then, were his attitude regarding the formation of the Sicilian kingdom and the creation of the alliance of the two Empires.

Relations of John to the East. — In Asia Minor, John carried on almost yearly and usually successful expeditions, so that in the fourth decade of the twelfth century he succeeded in restoring to the Empire the territories which had been lost long ago. Thereupon, thinking that the Turkish power had been greatly broken down, John believed that without affecting state interests he would be able to interrupt hostilities against the Turks and undertake a new and more distant campaign to the southeast against Armenian Cilicia and the crusading princedom of Antioch.

Armenian Cilicia or Armenia Minor had been established at the end of the eleventh century by the refugees from Armenia proper, in the north, who had fled from their country before the advancing Turks. Among other noble Armenian families, a family named Rupen (Ruben) began to play an important part in the government of the new country. Armenia Minor, which had extended its territory at the expense of Byzantium, came into close relations with the Latin princes in the east, showing thereby its hostile attitude toward the Empire. Then John Comnenus set forth on his march; he planned to punish Armenia Minor, which was in a state of revolt, and at the same time to settle the case of the princedom of Antioch, which in the time of the First Crusade had taken no oaths to the Emperor and later on had refused to submit to John in spite of the treaty concluded between Alexius Comnenus and Bohemond.

John’s expedition was exceedingly successful. Cilicia was conquered, and the Prince of Armenia, with his sons, was sent to Constantinople. The Byzantine territory, enlarged by the annexation of Armenia Minor, reached the borders of the princedom of Antioch. In his struggle with the latter, John also obtained definite success. Besieged, Antioch was forced to ask him for peace, which John granted on the condition that the Prince of Antioch should acknowledge the suzerainty of the Empire. The Prince consented to take the oath of fealty to the Emperor and, as a sign of his submission, to raise the imperial standard over the citadel of Antioch. A year later, on his return to Antioch, the Emperor, as suzerain, made a solemn entry into the city surrounded by his sons, courtiers, officials, and soldiers. The triumphal procession moved through the decorated streets of the city. By the Emperor’s side, as if he were his armiger, rode the Prince of Antioch. At the city gates, the Emperor was welcomed by the patriarch with his clergy; then, through an enormous multitude of people singing hymns and psalms, to the sound of music, John went first to the cathedral and thence to the palace.

John’s panegyrist said: “[Antioch] receives thee as lover of Christ, as athlete of the Lord, as zealous fighter against the barbarians, as carrying the sword of Elijah; it wipes off thy sweat and softly embraces thee. The whole numerous population of the city poured out; every age and both sexes formed brilliant procession and accorded a great triumph

… Shout was mixed and many-tongued, here Italian, there Assyrian … Here

commanders, there officers, and amidst them thou shonest as a brightest star!”

The Emperor’s plans went farther. According to the sources, he dreamt of re-establishing the Byzantine power in the Euphrates valley and seems to have intended to interfere in the affairs of the kingdom of Jerusalem; it may be that, in John’s mind, the project of such an interference was based upon the possibility that the king of Jerusalem might recognize the imperial suzerainty as the Prince of Antioch had done. Of those projects, the panegyrist said: “Be of good cheer, o men who love Christ and those who are pilgrims and strangers [on the earth] because of Christ” (cf. Hebr.

11:13); “do not fear any more murderous hands; the Emperor who loves Christ has put them in chains and broken to pieces the unjust sword. Thou hast cleared for them the way to the earthly and visible Jerusalem and hast opened to thyself another more divine and broad way, — that to the heavenly and holy Jerusalem.”

Nevertheless, those plans failed. In 1143, on a march against the Turks, during a hunting party in the mountains of Cilicia, John accidentally wounded his arm with a poisoned arrow and died, far from the capital. On his deathbed, he named his younger son Manuel as his successor. The whole time of his reign John devoted to the wars against the Empire’s enemies. He handed over to his heir a state even stronger and more vast than that which he had received from his energetic and talented father.

John’s panegyrist, considering him superior to Alexander of Macedon and Hannibal, exclaimed, “Strong was the Celtic oak, and thou hast pulled out its roots; high was the Cilician cedar, and thou, before us, hast lifted it and dashed it down!”

Policies of Manuel I and the Second Crusade.

Relations with the Turks. — If John, in his external policy, had turned his chief attention to the East, his successor Manuel, particularly because of the Norman relations and his personal sympathies with the West, was involved chiefly in western policy, which had sad consequences to the Empire. The Seljuq danger, which met no adequate resistance, became again very threatening on the eastern border.

The Byzantine border territory of Asia Minor was almost continuously exposed to the ruinous incursions of the Muslims who were exterminating or expelling the Christian population. Manuel had to secure order and safety in the border regions, and for that purpose he erected and restored a number of fortified places intended to check the invaders, mainly in those places where the enemy carried on most of their invasions.

It cannot be said, however, that Manuel’s hostilities against the Turks were successful. In the first years of his reign he made an alliance with the Muhamrnedan emirs of Cappadocia, the above-mentioned Danishmandites, and began a war against his enemy of Asia Minor, the sultan of Iconium or Rum. The imperial troops successfully reached the chief city of the sultanate, Iconium (Konia); but, probably because they were aware that the sultan had received some reinforcements, they only pillaged the city suburbs and then withdrew; on their way back they met with a severe defeat from the Seljuqs, which barely escaped ending in a real catastrophe to the retreating troops. But the news of the crusade, which was threatening both to the Emperor and sultan, compelled both adversaries to seek peace, and a peace was concluded.

Alliance of the two empires. — In the first years of the reign of Manuel his western policy, like that of his predecessor, was regulated by the idea of the alliance with Germany which had been achieved under the pressure of the common danger from the growing power of the Italian Normans. The negotiations with Conrad III of Germany interrupted by the death of John were renewed. The question of the marriage of Manuel to the sister-in-law of Conrad, Bertha of Sulzbach, which had been proposed under John, was also renewed. In his letter to Manuel, Conrad wrote that this marriage should be

a pledge “of a permanent alliance of constant friendship,” that the German sovereign promised to be “a friend of the Emperor’s friends and an enemy of his enemies,” as well as, in case of danger to the Empire, to come to its aid not only with some auxiliary troops, but, if necessary, in person with all forces of the German state. Manuel’s marriage to Bertha, who received in Byzantium the name of Irene, set a seal upon the alliance of the two empires. This alliance gave Manuel the hope of getting rid of the danger which threatened his state from Roger II. Of course, while Roger faced two such adversaries as the Byzantine and German sovereigns, he did not venture to begin war with Byzantium with his former hopes for success.

But an unexpected event suddenly destroyed Manuel’s dreams and political speculations. The Second Crusade entirely changed the situation, at least for a time; it deprived Byzantium of German support and exposed the Empire to twofold danger from the crusaders and from the Normans.

The Second Crusade. — After the First Crusade the Christian rulers in the east, that is to say, the Byzantine Emperor and the Latin rulers of Antioch, Edessa, and Tripoli, as well as the king of Jerusalem, instead of endeavoring to crush with united forces the strength of the Muslims, were occupied with their internal dissensions and looked with distrust on the political strengthening of their neighbors. Particularly disastrous to the general welfare were the hostile relations of Byzantium to Antioch and Edessa. These conditions enabled the Muslims, who had been weakened and driven back by the forces of the First Crusade, to recover themselves and again threaten from Mesopotamia the Christian possessions.

In 1144 Zangi, one of the Muhammedan rulers or Atabegs of Mosul, as the Seljuq governors who had become independent, were called, suddenly seized Edessa. An anonymous Syriac chronicle recently translated into French affords a detailed account of the siege and capture of Edessa by Zangi. The latter, as the chronicler said, “left Edessa four days after the capture of the city … The inhabitants of Edessa went to redeem their captives, and the city was repopulated. The governor Zain-ed-Din, who was a good-natured man, treated them very well.” But after Zangi’s death in 1146 the former count of Edessa, Joscelin, retook the city. Zangi’s son Nur-ad-Din easily took possession of it, and then the Christians were massacred, the women and children were sold into slavery, and the city was almost entirely destroyed. It was a heavy blow to the Christian cause in the east, because the county of Edessa, because of its geographical position, was a buffer state of the crusaders which had to receive the first attacks of Muslim assaults. Neither Jerusalem nor Antioch nor Tripoli could help the prince of Edessa. Meanwhile, after the fall of Edessa, the Latin possessions, Antioch in particular, began to be seriously threatened.

The fall of Edessa produced a deep impression upon the west and evoked

renewed interest in the cause of the Holy Land. But the pope of that time, Eugenius III, could not initiate or promote a new crusading enterprise, because the democratic movement which had broken out in the fifth decade at Rome and in which the famous Arnold of Brescia had taken part rendered the pope’s position in the “eternal City”

unstable, and even forced him to leave Rome for a time. The king of France, Louis VII, seems to have been the real initiator of the crusade, and its preacher who carried the idea into effect was the monk Bernard of Clairvaux, who by his fiery appeals first won over ]France. Then he passed to Germany and persuaded Conrad III to take the cross and inspired the Germans to take part in the expedition.

But the western peoples, who had learned caution through the bitter experience of the First Crusade and had been greatly disappointed in its results, did not manifest their former enthusiasm, and at the meeting of Vezelay, in Burgundy, the French feudaries were against the crusade. Not without difficulty Bernard won them over by his passionate and persuasive eloquence. In Bernard’s conception the original plan of Louis VII widened. Owing to Bernard, simultaneously with the crusade to the East there were organized two other expeditions: the first against the Muslims who at that time were in possession of Lisbon in the Pyrenean peninsula, the other against the pagan Slavs in the north, on the Elbe (Laba) river.

Historians strongly disapprove of Bernard’s idea of adding Germany to the crusade. The German scholar Kugler, who was especially interested in the Second Crusade, considered it as “a most unhappy idea;” the Russian scholar Th. Uspensky called it “a fatal step and great error of St. Bernard” and attributed the sad results of the crusade to the participation of the Germans. In truth, the antagonism between the French and Germans during the crusade was one of its peculiar traits and of course could not contribute to its success.

The news of the crusade alarmed Manuel, who saw in it a danger to his state and to his influence with the Latin princes of the east, particularly at Antioch, which with support from the west could ignore the Byzantine Emperor. Also the participation of Germany in the crusade deprived Byzantium of the guarantee upon which the alliance of the two empires was based. If the king of Germany left his country for the East for long, he could not take care of the western interests of the Byzantine Empire, which was therefore open to the ambitious plans of Roger. Knowing how dangerous to the capital the first crusaders had been, Manuel commanded its walls and towers to be restored, having evidently no confidence in the ties of friendship and relationship which bound Conrad to him.

According to V. Vasilievsky, “undoubtedly Manuel hoped to stand at the head of the whole Christian army against the common enemies of Christianity.” Besides the fact that Byzantium was very greatly interested in the future destinies of Islam in the East, Manuel, in the epoch of the Second Crusade, had also some special reasons for such a hope: at that time the Christian world had but one emperor, namely Manuel, because Conrad III Hohenstaufen had not been crowned by the pope in Rome and therefore did not bear the title of emperor.

In 1147 the leaders of the crusade decided to go to Constantinople by land, the way by which the first crusaders had already gone. First Conrad set out via Hungary; a month later Louis went the same way. The march of the crusaders towards

Constantinople was followed by the same violence and pillaging as in the First Crusade.

When the German troops had pitched their camp under the walls of the capital, Manuel exerted himself to the utmost to transport them to Asia before the arrival of the French army; finally, after some altercations with his relative and ally Conrad, he succeeded. In Asia Minor the Germans began at once to suffer from the want of food, and then they were assaulted by the Turks and destroyed; only a pitiful remnant of the German army returned to Nicaea. Some historians ascribe the failure of the German expedition to the intrigues of Manuel, alleging that he made an agreement with the Muslims, stirring them up to attack the crusaders. Some historians, for example Sybel and following him Th. Uspensky, even spoke of the conclusion of an alliance between Manuel and the Seljuqs. But the more recent scholars are inclined to believe that such charges against Manuel have no serious grounds and that he should not be considered responsible for the failure of the Germans.

The French who had approached the capital soon after the passage of the

Germans to Asia Minor alarmed Manuel still more. Manuel was particularly dubious about Louis with whom, shortly before the crusade, Roger had opened negotiations inducing him to go to the East through his Italian possessions; in Louis, Manuel suspected he saw a secret ally of Roger, or “the unofficial ally of Sicily,” and the Emperor’s conjectures had serious grounds.

Knowing that at that time Manuel was entirely absorbed by the crusade and his relations to the crusaders, Roger abandoned the general interests of Christianity and following only his own political aims suddenly seized the island of Corfu and devastated some other Byzantine islands. Then the Normans landed in Greece and captured Thebes and Corinth, which were at that time famous for their silk factories and silk stuffs. Not satisfied with seizing a large quantity of precious silk stuffs “the Normans, among numerous other captives, carried into Sicily the most skilful silk weavers, both men and women.” It is not true, however, as is sometimes stated in historical works, that these weavers who were transported to Palermo were the creators of the silk production and silk industry in Sicily; in reality the production of silk and the development of the silkworm had been known there before. But the arrival of the captured Greek women gave a new impetus to the industry. Athens also was not spared by the Normans.

When the news of the successful invasion of the Normans into Greece reached the French, who were standing under the walls of Constantinople, the latter, already irritated by the rumors of an agreement between Manuel and the Turks, became agitated. Some of Louis’ chiefs suggested to him that he seize Constantinople. In the face of this danger the Emperor turned his mind to transporting the French also into Asia Minor. A rumor circulated that the Germans were meeting with success in Asia Minor, and Louis consented to cross over the Bosphorus and even took the oath to Manuel. Only when Louis made his appearance in Asia Minor did he learn the truth about the disaster of the German army. The sovereigns met and marched on together.

The Franco-German troops are known to have suffered a complete failure at Damascus.

The disappointed Conrad left Palestine on a Greek vessel and sailed for Thessalonica, where Manuel, who was preparing to open hostilities against the Normans, had his residence at the time. Manuel and Conrad met there, examined the general situation, and concluded a definite alliance against Roger. Thereafter Conrad returned to Germany.

Meanwhile the crusade accomplished nothing. Louis, who remained in the East, realizing the complete impossibility of doing anything with his own resources, returned some months later to France via southern Italy where he met with Roger.

Thus the Second Crusade, which had started so brilliantly, ended in the most miserable way. The Muslims in the East were not weakened; on the contrary, they gained in courage and began even to hope to destroy the Christian possessions in the East. Besides that, the strife between the French and German troops as well as between the Palestinian and European Christians did not add to the prestige of the crusaders.

Manuel himself was glad to see the crusade finished, because now, strengthened by the conclusion of a formal alliance with Germany, he was free to proceed in his western policy against Roger. Nevertheless it would be unjust to charge the whole failure of the crusade upon the Emperor; the failure of the enterprise must be rather attributed to the lack of organization and general discipline among the crusaders. Also by his attack upon the islands of the Adriatic and Greece, Roger had fatally affected the project of the crusade. Generally speaking, the religious basis of the crusading enterprises was receding and the worldly political motives showed themselves henceforth more and more clearly.

External policy of Manuel after the Second Crusade. — During the crusade Manuel had already taken serious measures for the war against Roger, upon whom he wished to take vengeance for the treacherous incursion upon the islands of the Adriatic and Greece and for his continued occupation of Corfu. Venice, which, as before, watched the growing power of the Normans with some apprehension, willingly consented to support the Byzantine enterprise with her fleet and received for that aid new commercial privileges in the Empire; besides the quarters and landing places (scalas) in Constantinople which had been allotted to the Venetians by the former trade treaties, some new places and one more landing place (scala) were assigned to them. While those negotiations were going on, the Emperor was energetically preparing for the war against “the western dragon,” “a new Amalek,” “the dragon of the island (i.e. Sicily) who was about to eject the flame of his anger higher than the craters of Etna,” as the contemporary sources characterized Roger. Manuel’s plans were not confined to driving the enemy out of Byzantine territory; the Emperor hoped later on to transfer hostilities into Italy and to attempt to restore the former Byzantine power there.

He was temporarily diverted from his enterprise when his preparations were almost complete by the Cumans (Polovtzi), who crossed the Danube and invaded the Byzantine territory; but he succeeded in rapidly routing them. Then supported by the Venetian vessels, Manuel took possession of Corfu.

Roger realized what danger might threaten him from the alliance of Byzantium with Germany, who had promised to send the Emperor a land army, and Venice, who had already sent her vessels. Roger resorted to skillful diplomatic maneuvers in order to create all possible difficulties for Byzantium. Owing to the Sicilian fleet and intrigues, the Duke Welf, an old enemy of the Hohenstaufens, rose against Conrad in Germany, who was therefore prevented from marching into Italy to support Manuel; then the Serbs supported by the Hungarians (Ugrians) also opened hostilities against Manuel, whose attention was thereby diverted towards the north. Finally, Louis VII, afflicted by the failure of the crusade and irritated at the Greeks, came, on his return journey from the East, to a friendly understanding with Roger and was preparing a new crusade which threatened Byzantium with unavoidable danger. The abbot Suger, who had governed France during Louis’ absence, was the initiator of a new crusading enterprise, and the famous Bernard of Clairvaux was even ready himself to stand at the head of the army. A French abbot wrote to the Sicilian King: “Our hearts, the hearts of almost all our Frenchmen are burning with devotion and love for peace with you; we are induced to feel thus by the base, unheard of and mean treachery of the Greeks and their detestable king (regis) to our pilgrims …. Rise to help the people of God … take vengeance for such affronts.” Roger also was strengthening his relations with the pope.

In general the West regarded with disfavor the alliance between the “orthodox”

sovereign of Germany and the “schismatic” Emperor of Byzantium. It was thought in Italy that Conrad had already become affected with Greek disobedience, and the Papal curia was therefore making attempts to restore him to the path of truth and obedient service to the Catholic church. Pope Eugenius III, the abbot Suger, and Bernard of Clairvaux were working to destroy the alliance between the two empires. Thus, in the middle of the twelfth century, V. Vasilievsky explained, “there was on the point of coming into existence a strong coalition against Manuel and Byzantium at the head of which stood King Roger, to which Hungary and Serbia already belonged, which France as well as the Pope was about to join, and to which it was endeavored to draw Germany and her king. If the coalition had been realized, the year 1204 would have seen Constantinople already threatened.”

Nevertheless, the danger to the Empire proved not to be great. The plan of the king of France was not carried into effect partly because the French chivalry responded to the idea coldly and partly because Suger died shortly after. Conrad remained loyal to the alliance with the Eastern Empire.

But at the very time when Manuel might have expected a particular advantage from his alliance with Germany, Conrad III died (1152). His death, which had occurred just when the Italian campaign had been decided upon, evoked in Germany rumors that the king had been poisoned by his court physicians. They had come to Germany from Italy, from the famous medical school of Salerno, which was at that time in the power of Roger. Conrad’s successor Frederick I Barbarossa ascended the throne believing in unlimited imperial power granted him by God; he would not admit that his power in Italy should be divided with the eastern Emperor. In a treaty with the pope concluded shortly after Frederick’s accession to the throne the king of Germany, calling Manuel rex, not imperator, as Conrad had addressed him, pledged himself to expel the eastern Emperor from Italy. But, shortly after, for some unexplained reasons, Frederick changed his plans and seems to have intended to return to the idea of the Byzantine alliance.

In 1154 the terrible foe of Byzantium, Roger II, died. The new Sicilian king, William I, set as his goal the destruction of the alliance of the two empires and of the alliance between Byzantium and Venice. The Republic of St. Mark, aware of Manuel’s plans for establishing himself in Italy, could not approve of them; it would have been just as bad for Venice as if the Normans had established themselves on the opposite coast of the Adriatic, for in either case both coasts would have belonged to one power, which would have barred to the Venetian vessels the free use of the Adriatic and Mediterranean. Accordingly Venice broke off her alliance with Byzantium and having obtained important trade privileges in the kingdom of Sicily, made an alliance with William I.

After the Byzantine arms had had some success in southern Italy, i.e. after Bari and some other cities had been captured, William inflicted a severe defeat on Manuel’s troops at Brindisi in 1156, which at once nullified all the results of the Byzantine expedition. In the same year the capital of Apulia, Bari, was by order of William razed. A contemporary wrote: “The powerful capital of Apulia, famous for its glory, strong in its wealth, proud of the noble and aristocratic origin of its citizens, an object of general admiration for the beauty of its buildings, lies now as a pile of stones.”

The unsuccessful campaign of Manuel in Italy clearly showed Frederick

Barbarossa that the Byzantine Emperor had in view the conquest of that country.

Therefore he definitely broke with the Byzantine alliance. An historian contemporary with Frederick, Otto of Freising, wrote: “Although [Frederick] hated William, he did not, however, wish that the strangers might take away the territory of his Empire, which had been unjustly seized by the violent tyranny of Roger.” Any hope for a reconciliation with Barbarossa disappeared, and therewith disappeared all Manuel’s hopes for the restoration of Italy. In 1158 a peace was made between Manuel and William of Sicily. This peace, the exact conditions of which are not known, meant the abandonment by Byzantium of her long cherished and brilliant plans as well as “the rupture of the friendship and alliance between the two Empires which had existed under Lothar of Saxony and John Comnenus and later had been strengthened by the personal relations between Conrad and Manuel.” The Byzantine troops never saw Italy again.

Under the new conditions the aims of the Byzantine policy changed. Now it had to oppose the tendency of the Hohenstaufens to annex Italy, which Frederick Barbarossa believed must acknowledge his power. Byzantine diplomats began to work actively in a new direction. Manuel, wishing to destroy the relations between Frederick and the pope, sought the support of the papal curia in his coming struggle with Frederick and seduced the pope by hints of a possible union between the eastern and western churches. By evoking a conflict between the pope and the king of Germany, Manuel hoped “to restore the Eastern Empire in the whole fulness of its rights and put an end to the anomaly which existed in the shape of the Western Empire.” Yet those negotiations failed, because the popes were not at all willing to fall into a state of dependence from one emperor to the other; on the contrary, the popes of the twelfth century, imbued with theocratic ideals, wished themselves to reach superiority over the Byzantine Emperor.

When the war between Frederick Barbarossa and the north Italian cities started, Manuel actively supported the latter with money subsidies. The walls of Milan, demolished by Frederick, were restored by the aid of the Byzantine Emperor. The battle of Legnano, on May 29, 1176, which ended in Frederick’s complete defeat in northern Italy and resulted in the triumph of the north Italian communes and their supporter, the papacy, seemed rather to improve Manuel’s position in Italy. His relations were also particularly favorable in regard to Genoa, Pisa, and Venice; under the pressure of German danger the latter passed over again to Byzantium. But Manuel, willing, perhaps because of his lack of means, to profit by the enormous wealth of the Venetian merchants on the territory of his Empire, suddenly ordered all the Venetians of Byzantium to be arrested and their property confiscated. Venice, naturally incensed, sent a fleet against Byzantium which, owing to an epidemic, was forced to return without great success. In all probability, friendly relations between Byzantium and Venice were not restored in Manuel’s lifetime.

Wishing to reply to the Byzantine policy in Italy in a similar way, Frederick Barbarossa entered into negotiations with the most dangerous foe of Byzantium in the East, the sultan of Iconium, Qilij Arslan, and tried to induce the latter to invade the Greek Empire, hoping that the difficulties in Asia Minor would divert Manuel from European affairs.

Meanwhile the situation in Asia Minor was growing threatening. In Cilicia, which had been conquered by John Comnenus, a revolt broke out under the leadership of Thoros. Two of Manuel’s armies sent against Thoros failed. The situation became more alarming when Thoros made an alliance with his former enemy the prince of Antioch, Reginald of Chatillon, and together they marched against the Greeks. At the same time Reginald made a successful naval attack on Cyprus. Manuel came to Cilicia in person.

His arrival was so sudden that Thoros barely escaped capture and fled. In 1158, Manuel became again the master of Cilicia. Thoros submitted himself to the Emperor and was pardoned by him. Now it was the turn of Antioch.

Reginald of Chatillon, realizing that he would be unable to resist the Byzantine forces, decided to sue for Manuel’s pardon. The Emperor was at Mopsuestia (Mamistra of the crusaders), in Cilicia; Reginald “appeared there as a suppliant before the Great Comnenus.” A most humiliating scene took place: barefooted, he prostrated himself before the Emperor, presenting to him the hilt of his sword and submitting himself to his mercy. “At the same time,” as William of Tyre said, “he cried for mercy, and he cried so long that everyone had nausea of it and that many French have disdained and blamed him for that.” Ambassadors from most of the Oriental peoples, including the far distant Abasgians (Abkhaz) and Iberians, were present at that spectacle and were profoundly impressed. “This scene has rendered the Latins despicable in the whole of Asia.” Reginald acknowledged himself the vassal of the Empire, so that later 1178-1179) a certain Robert was sent to the court of Henry II, king of England, as ambassador on behalf of the two countries, Byzantium and Antioch. The king of Jerusalem, Baldwin III, arrived personally in Mopsuestia where, in Manuel’s camp, he was courteously received by the Emperor. But Baldwin was forced to enter into a treaty with him and pledged himself to furnish troops to the Emperor. Eustathius of Thessalonica in his oration to Manuel mentioned the king, who “ran to us from Jerusalem astounded by the fame and the deeds of the Emperor and recognizing from afar his sublimity.”

Then in April 1159, Manuel made his solemn entry into Antioch. Escorted by Reginald of Chatillon and the other Latin princes on foot and unarmed, and followed by the king of Jerusalem on horseback but also unarmed, the Emperor passed through streets decorated with carpets, hangings, and flowers, to the sound of trumpets and drums and to the singing of hymns, and was brought to the cathedral by the patriarch of Antioch in his pontifical robes. For eight days the imperial banners flew from the city walls.

The submission of Reginald of Chatillon and the entry of Manuel into Antioch in 1159 mark the triumph of the Byzantine policy towards the Latins. It was the result of more than sixty years of efforts and struggle. Despite many difficulties and wars, the Byzantine Emperor “never lost sight of the problem of Antioch — the problem raised during the First Crusade and since never solved.”

In the church of the Nativity, at Bethlehem, an inscription dated by the year 1169

has been preserved which stated “the present work was completed by the painter and mosaist Ephraim in the reign of the Emperor Manuel Porphyrogenitus Comnenus and in the days of the Great King of Jerusalem Amaury, and of the most holy Bishop of the holy Bethlehem Raoul in the year 6677, indiction 2” (= 1169). The name of Manuel put together with that of Amaury may indicate that a sort of suzerainty of the Greek emperor was established over the king of Jerusalem.

As to the relations of Manuel with the Muhammedan princes, he and Qilij Arslan had had for some years a friendly connection, and in 1161-62 the Sultan had even come to Constantinople where a solemn reception had been accorded to him by the Emperor.

This reception is thoroughly described in Greek and Oriental sources. The Sultan spent eighty days in Constantinople. All the wealth and treasures of the capital were ostentatiously shown to the famous guest. Dazzled by the brilliancy of the palace reception, Qilij Arslan did not even dare to sit down by the side of the Emperor.

Tournaments, races, and even a naval festival with a demonstration of the famous

“Greek fire” were given in honor of the sultan. Twice a day, food was brought to him in gold and silver vessels, and the latter were not taken back, but left at the disposal of the guest. One day, when the Emperor and sultan had dinner together, all vessels and decorations were offered to Qilij Arslan as a gift.

In 1171 the king of Jerusalem, Amaury I, arrived in Constantinople and was magnificently received by Manuel. William of Tyre gave a detailed account of this visit.

It was the climax of the international glory and overwhelming power of Manuel in the Near East.

But the political results of the visit of Qilij Arslan to the capital were not very important; a sort of friendly treaty was made, but it was of short duration. Some years later the sultan announced to his friends and officials that the greater damage he did to the Empire, the more precious presents he got from the Emperor.

In such circumstances, the peace on the eastern border could not last long. On the strength of some local causes as well as perhaps because of the instigation of Frederick, hostilities broke out. Manuel himself rode at the head of his troops. The aim of the campaign was the capture of the capital of the sultanate, Iconium (Konia). In 1176 the Byzantine troops became entangled in the mountainous gorge of Phrygia, where the stronghold of Myriocephalon was situated not far from the border. There the Turks suddenly assaulted them on several sides and, on September 17th, 1176, inflicted upon them a complete defeat. The Emperor barely saved his life and escaped capture.

The Byzantine historian, Nicetas Choniates, wrote: “The spectacle was really worthy of tears, or, it is better to say, the disaster was so great that it could not be sufficiently bemourned: pits were filled to the top with corpses; in ravines there were heaps of slain; in bushes, mountains of dead … No one passed by without tears or moan; but all sobbed and called their lost friends and relatives by their names.”

A contemporary historian who spent some time in Constantinople in 1179,

depicts Manuel’s mood after the defeat at Myriocephalon as follows:

From that day the emperor is said to have borne, ever deeply impressed upon his heart, the memory of that fatal disaster. Never thereafter did he exhibit the gaiety of spirit which had been so characteristic of him or show himself joyful before his people, no matter how much they entreated him. Never, as long as he lived, did he enjoy the good health which before that time he had possessed in so remarkable a degree. In short, the ever-present memory of that defeat so oppressed him that never again did he enjoy peace of mind or his usual tranquillity of spirit.

In a long letter to his western friend, King Henry II Plantagenet, of England, Manuel announced his recent disaster and evidently tried to soften it a little. A detailed narration of the battle was given by the Emperor in that letter; among other things, he gave interesting information concerning the participation in the battle of Englishmen who after 1066 served the Byzantine emperors, especially in the imperial guard.

In spite of the crushing defeat at Myriocephalon, an anonymous panegyrist of Manuel turned the Emperor’s very flight before the Turks into one of his brilliant deeds when he said: “After a clash with a mass of attacking Ismaelitians [i.e. Turks] he

[Manuel] rushed into flight alone without fearing so many swords, arrows, and spears.”

A nephew of Manuel adorned his new house with paintings, and among other pictures,

“he ordered the deeds of the Sultan (of Iconium) to be painted, thus illustrating upon the walls of his house that which would have been more proper to keep in darkness.” In all likelihood, this unusual picture represented the fateful battle of Myriocephalon.

But for reasons still unknown, Qilij Arslan used his victory with moderation and opened negotiations with the Emperor which led to the conclusion of a tolerable peace.

Some Byzantine fortifications in Asia Minor were destroyed.

The battle of Manzikert in 1071 had already been a deathblow to Byzantine domination in Asia Minor. But the contemporaries had not understood this, and still hoped to recover, and get rid of the Seljuq danger. The two first crusades had not decreased that danger. The battle of Myriocephalon in 1176 definitely destroyed Byzantium’s last hope of expelling the Turks from Asia Minor. After that the Empire could not possibly carry on any efficient offensive policy in the East. She could barely protect the eastern border and repulse the Seljuq hordes which were continually penetrating into her territory. “The battle of Myriocephalon,” declared Kugler,

“decided forever the destiny of the whole East.”

Soon after this defeat, Manuel also sent a letter to Frederick Barbarossa in which he portrayed the Seljuq sultan’s position as weak; but Frederick had already been informed of the truth — Manuel’s crushing defeat. In replying to Manuel, Frederick announced that the German emperors, who had received their power from the glorious Roman emperors, had to rule not only the Roman Empire but also “the Greek Kingdom”

(ut non solum Romanum imperium nostro disponatur moderamine, verum etiam regnum grecie ad nutum nostrum regi et sub nostro gubernari debeat imperio); therefore he bade Manuel recognize the authority of the western emperor and yield to the authority of the pope, and ended with the statement that in the future he would regulate his conduct by that of Manuel, who in vain was sowing troubles among the vassals of the western empire. It was thus the belief of the authoritative Hohenstaufen that the Byzantine emperor should submit to him in his position as western emperor.

The idea of a single empire did not cease to exist in the twelfth century; at first Manuel remembered it, and later when circumstances became unfavorable to Byzantium, Frederick began to dream of the single empire.

In 1177, the Congress of Venice, which was attended by Frederick, the pope, and the representatives of the victorious Italian communes, confirmed the independence of the latter and reconciled the German sovereign to the pope. In other words, the treaty of Venice put an end to the hostility which had existed between Germany, the Lombard communities, and the papal curia, which Manuel had utilized for his diplomatic combinations. “The Congress of Venice was a blow to the Byzantine Empire, equivalent to the defeat inflicted on it by the Sultan of Iconium at Myriocephalon,” said Th.

Uspensky. “Having reconciled the elements in the West which were hostile to Byzantium, the Congress was a prognostic of the coalition which was to conquer Constantinople in 1204 and form the Latin states in the East.”

The Congress of 1177 had exceptional significance for Venice, where assembled a brilliant European society headed by the western emperor and the pope. Over ten thousand foreigners came to Venice, and all admired the beauty, wealth, and power of that city. A contemporary historian, addressing the Venetian people, wrote: “Oh, how happy you are because such a peace could be made in your country. It will be a permanent glory to your name.”

A short time before his death, Manuel succeeded in obtaining his last diplomatic success, namely, marriage of his son and heir Alexius to an eight-year-old daughter of the king of France, Louis VII. The little princess Agnes received in Byzantium the name of Anne. Owing to this marriage, the somewhat strained relations which had been established between Byzantium and France after the Second Crusade seem to have improved. Eustathius of Thessalonica wrote a eulogistic oration on the occasion of the arrival at Megalopolis, i.e. Constantinople, of the imperial bride from France.

Moreover, after the famous letter sent by Manuel to the king of England, Henry II, after the disaster of Myriocephalon, the relations between those two sovereigns became very friendly, and in the last years of Manuel’s reign there is some evidence that the Byzantine envoys appeared at Westminster, and an Englishman, Geoffrey de Haie (Galfridus de Haia) was entrusted by Henry II with the entertainment of the Greek ambassadors; the same Geoffrey de Haie was sent in return to Constantinople. Henry II, evidently well informed on Manuel’s favorite sports of which hunting was not the least, even sent him a pack of hunting dogs on a vessel sailing from Bremen.

To sum up, Manuel’s policy differed very much from the cautious and thoughtful policy of his grandfather and father. Absorbed by his delusive dream of restoring the unity of the Empire as heir to Augustus, Constantine, and Justinian, and strongly inclined to western tastes, customs and manners, he exerted himself to the utmost in the struggle with Italy and Hungary as well as in his relations with the Western Empire, France, Venice, and other Italian communes. Leaving the East without adequate attention, he failed to prevent the further growth of the sultanate of Iconium and finally witnessed the collapse of all the hopes of the Empire in Asia Minor after the disaster of Myriocephalon.

The preference given by Manuel to the West, which was uncongenial to

Byzantium and whose culture at that time was not equal to Byzantine culture, also brought about consequences disastrous to the Empire. By receiving foreigners with open arms and granting them the most responsible and lucrative places, he roused so strong a dissatisfaction among his subjects that bloody conflicts might be expected on the first occasion.

The special historian of Manuel’s epoch estimated his policy in these comments:

“Manuel chanced to die rather too soon to see the sad consequences of his policy; they had been already perceived by the perspicacious minds of some of his contemporaries.

It was hard to receive the heritage of the Emperor, and no one among his successors was to be able to restore the position of the Empire. In ensuing years the decline of the Empire was to go on rapidly: it is just to say that it began with the reign of Manuel.”

It might be more correct to say that the decline of the Empire had begun much earlier, in the epoch of the Macedonian dynasty, after the death of Basil II Bulgaroctonus in 1025. The first two Comneni, Alexius and John, succeeded in retarding the progress of the decline, but they failed to stop it. The erroneous policy of Manuel led the Empire again into the path of decline and this time into definite decadence.

Hertzberg commented: “with Manuel, the ancient brilliance and ancient greatness of Byzantium sank into the grave forever.” This opinion of the historian of the nineteenth century agrees with the words of a well-known writer of the end of the twelfth century, contemporary with the Comneni and Angeli, Eustathius of Thessalonica: “According to divine purpose, with the death of the Emperor Manuel Comnenus there has perished all that still remained intact from the Romans, and darkness has enveloped all our country as if it were under an eclipse of the sun.”

Such a colorful figure as that of Manuel Comnenus could not fail to leave a deep impress far beyond the confines of the Byzantine Empire. His name and his exploits, the latter mostly legendary, were well known in the Russian heroic epics and in Russian songs, as well as in the Russian annals. Manuel sent to the princess of Polotzk, Euphrosinia, an icon of the Mother of God, of Ephesus. It should not be forgotten that the famous legendary letter of Prester John was addressed to Manuel.

Foreign affairs under the last Comneni, Alexius II and Andronicus I.

“The five-year period comprising the reign of the two last Comneni, Alexius and Andronicus,” wrote the Russian historian, Th. Uspensky, “is interesting particularly as a period of reaction and state reforms which had an entirely rational basis and were evoked by the well realized defects of the former system of administration.” After Manuel’s death his twelve-year old son, Alexius II (1180-83), ascended the throne, and his mother Mary (Maria) of Antioch was proclaimed regent; her favorite Alexius Comnenus, Manuel’s nephew, however, had the direction of all state affairs. The violent struggle of the court parties as well as the continuing Latin preponderance led to the summoning of the famous Andronicus into the capital. He had already for a long time been filled with ambitious plans of seizing the imperial throne; and he snatched at the opportunity to appear as a defender of the weak Emperor Alexius II, surrounded by wicked advisers, as well as a protector of Greek national interests. A short time before he entered the capital, the massacre of the Latins had taken place. Venetian sources pass over the massacre of 1182. Nevertheless the Venetian merchants no doubt also suffered considerably.

In the same year, 1182, Andronicus entered Constantinople and, in spite of his solemn promise, began to aim openly at sole dominion. By his order, the powerful Alexius Comnenus was arrested and blinded; then the Regent Mary of Antioch and, shortly after, the unfortunate Emperor Alexius II were strangled. In 1183, Andronicus, then sixty-three years old, became all-powerful sovereign of the Empire. In order to make his position more solid, he married the widow of Alexius II, Agnes (Anne) of France, who, at the death of her fourteen-year-old husband, was not quite twelve years of age.

The enthusiasm with which the populace received Andronicus is explained by their expectations from the new Emperor. The two chief problems of the internal life of the Empire confronted Andronicus: first, to establish a national government and deliver Byzantium from the Latin preponderance; second, to weaken the office-holding aristocracy and large landowning aristocracy, because the preponderance of large landowners was bringing about the ruin and destruction of the agricultural class of peasants. Such a program, however hard its execution might be, met great sympathy among the mass of the population.

The archbishop of Athens, Michael Acominatus (Choniates), one of the most precious sources for the internal situation of the Empire in the twelfth century, wrote in eulogistic terms: “And first of all I shall remember how, at the troublesome and painful time, the Roman Empire appealed to its former darling, the great Andronicus, to overthrow the oppressive Latin tyranny which, like a weed, had grafted itself on the young offshoot of the kingdom. And he brought with him no huge body of foot and horse, but armed only with justice marched lightly to the loving city … The first thing he gave the capital in return for its pure love was deliverance from the tyrannous Latin insolence and the clearing of the Empire from barbarian admixture.”

“With Andronicus, a new party came to power.” “This last representative of the dynasty of the Comneni,” said Th. Uspensky, “was or at least seemed to be a popular king, a king of peasants. People sang songs about him and composed poetical tales, the traces of which have been preserved in the annals and marginal notes of the unpublished manuscripts of the History of Nicetas Choniates.” Among other things, Nicetas wrote that Andronicus commanded his statue to be erected near the northern gate of the Church of the Forty Martyrs, and the Emperor was represented there not arrayed in the imperial robes, not wearing golden ornaments as sovereign, but as a worker, oppressed with labor, in a very modest dress, holding a scythe.

Andronicus set strenuously to work at reforms. The salary of many officials was raised in order to make them less bribable; honest and incorruptible men were appointed judges; tax burdens were considerably lightened, and severe punishments were inflicted upon the tax collectors who were furthering their own interests. Strong measures were taken against large landowners, and many members of the Byzantine aristocracy were put to death. Michael Acominatus wrote: “Long ago we have been convinced that you are mild to the poor, terrific to the covetous, that you are the protector of the weak and the enemy of the violators, that you incline the balance of Themis neither to the right nor to the left, and that you have hands pure from bribes.”

The struggle of Andronicus with the Byzantine aristocracy, both of birth and of wealth, reminded the Italian historian, Cognasso, of the struggle of the tsar of Russia, John (Ivan) the Terrible, in the sixteenth century, with the Russian nobility. He wrote: As Andronicus had intended to destroy the preponderance of Byzantine aristocracy, so John, the power of boyars [Russian nobility], and both of them, but the Russian Tzar to a greater extent, were forced to resort to coercive measures. But it was unfortunate that by weakening aristocracy they both weakened the state; John IV found himself as helpless before the Poles of Stephen Batory as Andronicus before the Normans of William II. John, sovereign of a young and strong people, succeeded by rapid measures in saving Russia; Andronicus had fallen before the Empire was reformed and strengthened. The old organism could no longer be supported, and a new organic body, of which Andronicus was dreaming, was too soon entrusted to inexperienced hands.

Of course, Andronicus was incapable of carrying out a radical reform of a social system which had resulted from a long historical process. Representatives of the persecuted landowning aristocracy were only waiting for the first opportunity to get rid of their hated ruler and replace him by a person who would keep up the social policy of the first three Comneni. Suspecting everywhere treason and plots, Andronicus adopted a system of terrorism which, without any distinction, crushed guilty and guiltless, and not only among the higher classes; an atmosphere of irritation and hatred for the Emperor gradually grew among the population. The people who had recently received their darling with frantic acclamations, deserted him as a man who had not kept his promises, and they were already looking for a new claimant to the throne. Nicetas Choniates gave a striking picture of the changeable mood of the Constantinopolitan populace of that time: “In any other city the populace is thoughtless and very unyielding in its tumultuous motion; but the mob of Constantinople is particularly tumultuous, violent, and ‘walking in crooked ways,’ because it is composed of different peoples … Indifference towards the emperors is an evil innate in them; him whom they raise today legally as their master, they disparage next year as a criminal.”

The complicated and threatening internal situation became still more

aggravated by the failure of the external policy. Andronicus came to the conclusion that the political isolation of the Empire was impracticable from the point of view of its essential and vital interests; in order to save the situation he must resume relations with the western powers that he so ostentatiously abhorred.

And in truth the attitude of the West towards Byzantium was exceedingly

menacing. After Manuel’s death there were two enemies of Byzantium in western Europe: Germany, and the Kingdom of Sicily. The alliance of the two empires which for a time, during the reign of Manuel, had been. the basis of the western European policy, came to an end; at the same time the aid rendered by Byzantium to the Lombard communes in their struggle against Frederick Barbarossa made that enemy of the Eastern Empire gradually inclined to draw closer and closer to the Kingdom of Sicily.

Then the Latins who had escaped the massacre organized in 1182 in

Constantinople returned to the West to their own countries; relating the horrors of their experiences, they urged revenge for the insults and damages inflicted upon them.

The Italian trade republics, which had suffered great financial losses, were particularly irritated. The members of some noble Byzantine families persecuted by Andronicus also fled to Italy, and there they tried to induce the Italian governments to open hostilities against Byzantium.

Meanwhile, the western danger to the Eastern Empire was growing more and more threatening. Frederick Barbarossa married his son and heir, Henry, to the heiress of the Kingdom of Sicily, Constance; the betrothal had been announced in Germany in 1184, a year before Andronicus’ death. It was a very important event, because after Frederick’s death his successor could annex Naples and Sicily to the possessions of the king of Germany. From two separate enemies there would be created against Byzantium one single terrible enemy whose political interests could not be reconciled with those of the Eastern Empire. It is even very probable that this matrimonial alliance with the Norman royal house was made to establish a point of departure in the Sicilian kingdom for the plans of the western emperor against Byzantium, in order to conquer more easily, with the help of the Normans, “the Kingdom” of the Greeks. At least, a western medieval historian remarked: “The Emperor hostile to the Kingdom of the Greeks [regno Gre-corum infestus] endeavors to unite the daughter of Roger with his son.”

The king of Sicily, William II, a contemporary of Andronicus, taking advantage of the internal troubles in Byzantium, organized a great expedition against the latter, the purpose of which was certainly not only the desire of taking revenge for the massacre of 1182 or of supporting a possible claimant to the Byzantine throne, but also an intention to take possession of the Byzantine throne for himself. Andronicus decided to enter into negotiations both with the West and with the East.

He made a treaty with Venice before the beginning of 1185. In coming to terms with the Republic of St. Mark “in order to support the Empire” (pro firmatione Imperii) Andronicus is said to have released the Venetians still imprisoned in Constantinople after the massacre of 1182 and to have promised compensation for loss, in annual payments. He actually began to discharge these obligations, and the first installment was paid in 1185. He also attempted to draw closer to the pope of Rome, from whom he evidently hoped to get support, by pledging himself to grant some privileges to the Catholic church. By the end of 1182 Pope Lucius III had sent a legate to Constantinople.

Furthermore, a western chronicle affords very interesting evidence that in 1185

Andronicus, against the will of the patriarch, constructed a church in Constantinople upon which he bestowed an ample revenue, where the Latin Catholic priests officiated according to their rite; “up to this day that church is called the Latin church.”

Finally, a short time before he died, Andronicus made a formal alliance with the sultan of Egypt, Saladin. As a western chronicler reported, “urged by grief and distress (Andronicus) has recourse to the advice and succor of Saladin.” The conditions of that alliance sealed by oath run as follows: if Saladin succeeded, with the advice and aid of the Emperor, in occupying Jerusalem, Saladin himself should keep any other country they might take for himself, Jerusalem and the whole sea coast, except Ascalon, becoming free; but he should hold this territory under the suzerainty of Andronicus; the Emperor should take possession of all the conquered territories of the sultan of Iconium as far as Antioch and Armenia Minor, if the new allies were able to annex them. But “prevented by death, Andronicus could not carry that plan into effect.” Thus according to that treaty Andronicus was ready to cede Palestine to Saladin on condition that the latter should recognize the suzerainty of the Empire. But neither the treaty with Venice, nor the overtures to the pope, nor the alliance with the famous Saladin could save the situation or preserve the power in the hands of Andronicus.

In the eastern portion of the Mediterranean the governor of the island of Cyprus, Isaac Comnenus, seceded from the Empire and proclaimed the independence of the island under his rule. Having no good fleet, Andronicus failed to put down the revolt.

Cyprus was lost. The loss of Cyprus was a very severe blow to the Empire, for Byzantium had had there an important strategic and commercial point which had brought large revenues to the treasury, especially because of the trade with the Latin states in the East.

But the chief and decisive blow was struck from the West, when the well-organized expedition of William II of Sicily sailed against the Empire. As usual, hostilities opened at Durazzo which at once passed into the hands of the Normans; then they followed the military Egnatian road (via Egnatia) and marched towards Thessalonica. The powerful Norman fleet also arrived there. In this war Venice seems to have been strictly neutral.

The well-known ten days’ siege of Thessalonica by land and sea began. A

narrative of this siege, rather rhetorical but nevertheless valuable, was written by an eyewitness, the archbishop of Thessalonica, Eustathius. In August, 1185, Thessalonica, which ranked next to Constantinople, was captured by the Normans, who affected there an appalling destruction and massacre, the revenge of the Latins for the massacre of 1182. Said a Byzantine historian of that time, Nicetas Choniates: “Thus, between us and them [the Latins] a bottomless gulf of enmity has established itself; we cannot unite our souls and we entirely disagree with each other, although we keep up our external relations and often live in the same house.” After some days of pillage and murder the Norman troops advanced farther to the east, towards Constantinople.

When the news of the capture of Thessalonica and of the approach of the

Norman troops to the capital had reached Constantinople, the population of the city broke out in revolt, accusing Andronicus of making no preparations for resisting the enemy. With unexpected rapidity Isaac Angelus was proclaimed emperor. Andronicus was dethroned and died after atrocious tortures. With the revolution of 1185 the epoch of the Byzantine Comneni ended.

The short reign of Andronicus I, who on his accession to the throne had set himself the goal of protecting the agricultural class, or peasants, against the arbitrary domination of the large landowners, and of freeing the state from the foreign Latin preponderance, differs strikingly in character from the rule of all other Comneni. For this reason alone the reign of Andronicus deserves intense and strictly scientific investigation. In some respects, particularly in the sphere of social problems and interests, the time of Andronicus, which has not yet been satisfactorily elucidated, presents a fascinating field for further researches.

Foreign policy of the Angeli

Characteristics of the Emperors of the House of the Angeli.

The dynasty of the Angeli, elevated to the throne by the revolution of 1185, sprang from a contemporary of Alexius Comnenus, Constantine Angelus, of the city of Philadelphia in Asia Minor, a man of low birth, who was married to a daughter of the Emperor Alexius; he was the grandfather of Isaac II Angelus, the first emperor from this house, who was therefore related by the female side to the Comneni.

One of the aims of the late Andronicus had been to establish a national

government; obviously he had failed in this task and at the close of his reign he had begun to incline to the West. After his death, the need of a national government became thoroughly felt, so that, as a recent Italian historian of the rule of Isaac II Angelus, Cognasso, wrote: “The revolution of the twelfth of September (1185) became especially nationalistic and aristocratic in its plans; thus, from the advantages derived from the revolution all classes were excluded except the Byzantine aristocracy.”

Isaac II (1185-95) who represented, to quote Gelzer, “the embodied evil

conscience which sat now upon the rotten throne of the Caesars,” possessed no administrative talents at all. The excessive luxury and foolish lavishness of the court together with arbitrary and unendurable extortions and violence, lack of will power and of any definite plan in ruling the state in its external relations, especially in the Balkan peninsula where a new danger to the Empire appeared in the Second Bulgarian Kingdom, and in Asia Minor, where the Turks continued their successful advance unchecked by the fruitless Third Crusade, — all this created an atmosphere of discontent and agitation in the country. From time to time revolts broke out in favor of one or another claimant to the throne. But perhaps the chief cause of general discontent was “the fatigue of the population at enduring the two evils well recognized by Andronicus: the insatiability of the fiscal administration and the arrogance of the rich.” Finally, in 1195, a plot against Isaac was formed by his brother Alexius, who, with the help of a certain part of the nobility and troops, dethroned the Emperor. Isaac was blinded and imprisoned, and his brother Alexius became Emperor. He is known as Alexius III Angelus (1195-1203), or Angelus Comnenus, sometimes surnamed Bambacoratius (Βαμβακοραβδης).

In his qualities and capacities the new Emperor scarcely differed from his brother. The same foolish lavishness, the same lack of any political talent or interest in government, the same military incapacity brought the Empire by rapid steps far on the way towards disintegration and humiliation. Not without malicious irony Nicetas Choniates remarked concerning Alexius III: “Whatever paper might be presented to the Emperor for his signature, he signed it immediately; it did not matter that in this paper there was a senseless agglomeration of words, or that the supplicant demanded that one might sail by land or till the sea, or that mountains should be transferred into the middle of the seas or, as a tale says, that Athos should be put upon Olympus.” The Emperor’s conduct found imitators among the nobility of the capital, who exerted themselves to the utmost to compete with each other in expense and luxury. Riots took place in both the capital and the provinces. The foreigners who resided in Constantinople, the Venetians and Pisans, often met in bloody conflicts on the streets of the capital. External relations were also unsuccessful.

Meanwhile, the son of the deposed Isaac II, the young prince Alexius, had succeeded in escaping on a Pisan vessel from Byzantium to Italy; he went then to Germany, to the court of Philip of Swabia, king of Germany, who was married to his sister Irene, daughter of Isaac Angelus. It was the time of the beginning of the Fourth Crusade. The prince begged the pope and the king of Germany, his brother-in-law, to help him to restore the throne to his blind father Isaac. After many complications Alexius succeeded in inducing the crusaders in the Venetian vessels to sail to Constantinople instead of Egypt. In 1203 the crusaders seized the capital of Byzantium and, deposing Alexius III, re-established upon the throne the old and blind Isaac (1203-1204); then they seated his son Alexius by the side of his father, as his coemperor (Alexius IV). The crusaders encamped close to Constantinople expecting the accomplishment of the terms for which they had stipulated.

But it was impossible for the Emperors to fulfill those terms, and their complete obedience to the crusaders roused a riot in the capital which resulted in the proclamation as Emperor of a certain Alexius V Ducas Mourtzouphlos (1204), related to the family of the Angeli and married to a daughter of Alexius III. Isaac II and Alexius IV

perished during the revolt. The crusaders, seeing that they had lost their chief support in the capital in the persons of the two dead Emperors, and realizing that Mourtzouphlos, who had raised the banner of the anti-Latin movement, was their enemy, decided to take Constantinople for themselves. After a stubborn attack by the Latins and desperate resistance by the inhabitants of the capital, on April 13, 1204, Constantinople passed over into the hands of the western knights and was given up to terrific devastation. Emperor Mourtzouphlos had time to flee from the capital. The Byzantine Empire fell. In its place there were formed the feudal Latin Empire with Constantinople as its capital and a certain number of vassal states in various regions of the Eastern Empire.

The dynasty of the Angeli or Angeli-Comneni, Greek in its origin, gave the Empire not one talented emperor; it only accelerated the ruin of the Empire, already weakened without and disunited within.

Relations with the Normans and Turks and the Second Bulgarian kingdom.

In the year of the revolution of 1185, which dethroned Andronicus I and elevated Isaac Angelus to the throne, the condition of the Empire was very dangerous. After the taking of Thessalonica, the Norman land army started to advance towards the capital, where the Norman fleet had already arrived. But, drunk with their successes, the Normans began to pillage the captured regions; overconfident and having too little respect for the Byzantine army, they were defeated and forced to evacuate Thessalonica and Dyrrachium. This failure of the Normans to land obliged their vessels to leave Constantinople. A treaty of peace concluded between Isaac Angelus and William II put an end to the Norman war. As for the Seljuq danger in Asia Minor, Isaac Angelus succeeded in reducing it temporarily by rich presents and an annual tribute to the Turkish sultan.

For Isaac Angelus even a temporary interruption of hostilities against the Normans was of very great advantage, for in the first years of his reign events of great importance to the Empire had taken place in the Balkan peninsula. Bulgaria, which had been conquered by Basil II Bulgaroctonus in 1018, after several unsuccessful attempts to regain her independence finally threw off the Byzantine yoke and in 1186

established the so-called Second Bulgarian Kingdom.

At the head of this movement stood two brothers, Peter or Kalopeter and Asen (Asan). The question of their origin and of the participation of the Wallachian element in the insurrection of 1186 has been several times discussed, and formerly historians believed that the brothers had grown up among the Wallachs and had adopted their tongue. “In the persons of the leaders,” said V. Vasilievsky, “there was embodied exactly that fusion into one unit of the two nationalities, Bulgarian and Wallachian, that has been obvious in all narratives of the struggle for freedom and has been emphasized by modern historians.” More recently, Bulgarian historians have traced the origin of Peter and Asen to the Cuman-Bulgarian racial elements in northern Bulgaria, denied the strength of the Wallachian-Roumanian element in the insurrection of 1186, and considered the foundation of the Second Bulgarian Kingdom of Trnovo a national Bulgarian achievement. Modern Roumanian historians, however, vigorously emphasize again the importance of the part played by the Wallachians in the formation of the Second Bulgarian Kingdom and say that the dynasty of the new kingdom was of Wallachian, i.e. Roumanian, origin.

Some elements of Bulgarian and Roumanian nationalism have become involved in this question, so that it is necessary to reconsider it with all possible scholarly detachment and disinterestedness. On the basis of reliable evidence, the conclusion is that the liberating movement of the second half of the twelfth century in the Balkans was originated and vigorously prosecuted by the Wallachians, ancestors of the Roumanians of today; it was joined by the Bulgarians, and to some extent by the Cumans from beyond the Danube. The Wallachian participation in this important event cannot be disregarded. The best contemporary Greek source, Nicetas Choniates, clearly stated that the insurrection was begun by the Vlachs (Blachi); that their leaders, Peter and Asen (Asan), belonged to the same race; that the second campaign of the Byzantine Empire during this period was waged against the Vlachs; and that after the death of Peter and Asen the Empire of the Vlachs passed to their younger brother John.

Whenever Nicetas mentioned the Bulgarians, he gave their name jointly with that of the Vlachs: Bulgarians and Vlachs. The western cleric Ansbert, who followed the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa in his crusade (1189-1190), narrated that in the Balkans the Emperor had to fight against Greeks and Vlachs, and calls Peter or Kalopeter

“Emperor of the Vlachs and of the most part of the Bulgarians” (Blacorum et maxime partis Bulgarorum dominus) or “imperator of the Vlachs and Cumans,” or simply

“Emperor of the Vlachs who was called by them the Emperor of Greece” (Kalopetrus Bachorum [Blachorum] dominus itemque a suis dictus imperator Grecie). Finally, Pope Innocent III in his letters to the Bulgarian King John (Calojoannes) in 1204 addressed him as “King of Bulgarians and Vlachs” (Bulgarorum et Blacorum rex); in answering the pope, John calls himself “imperator omnium Bulgarorum et Blacorum,” but signs himself “imperator Bulgariae Calojoannes;” the archbishop of Trnovo calls himself

“totius Bulgariae et Blaciae Primas.”

Although the Wallachians initiated the movement of liberation, the Bulgarians without doubt took an active part in it with them, and probably contributed largely to the internal organization of the new kingdom. The Cumans also shared in the movement. The new Bulgarian kingdom was ethnologtcally a Wallachian-Bulgarian-Cuman state, its dynasty, if the assertion of Nicetas Choniates is accepted, being Wallachian.

The cause of the revolt was the discontent with the Byzantine sway felt by both Wallachians and Bulgarians, and their desire for independence. The time seemed particularly auspicious to them, since the Empire, which was still enduring the consequences of the troubles of Andronicus’ time and the revolution of 1185, was unable to take adequate measures to put down the revolt. Nicetas Choniates naively said that the revolt was caused by the driving away of the Wallachs’ cattle for the festivities held on the occasion of the marriage of Isaac Angelus to a daughter of the king of Hungary.

Peter, this “renegade and evil slave,” as he was called by the metropolitan of Athens, Michael Acominatus, and Asen at first received some defeats from the Byzantine troops; but they were able to enlist the aid of the Cumans, who lived beyond the Danube. The struggle grew more difficult for the Empire, and Peter and Asen succeeded in concluding a sort of treaty. Peter had already assumed the title of tsar at the outset of the revolt and had begun to wear the imperial robes. Now the new Bulgarian state was recognized as politically independent of Byzantium, with a capital at Trnovo and an independent national church. The new kingdom was known as the Bulgarian Kingdom of Trnovo, Simultaneously with the Bulgarian insurrection a similar movement arose in Serbian territory, where the founder of the dynasty of Nemanya, the “Great Župan” (Great Ruler) Stephen Nemanja, who laid the foundation for the unification of Serbia, made an alliance with Peter of Bulgaria for the common fight against the Empire.

In 1189, as a participant in the Third Crusade, Frederick Barbarossa of Germany was passing across the Balkan peninsula towards Constantinople on his way to the Holy Land. The Serbs and Bulgarians intended to use that favorable opportunity and to obtain their aim with Frederick’s help. During his stay at Nish Frederick received Serbian envoys and the Great Župan Stephen Nemanya himself, and at the same time opened negotiations with the Bulgarians. The Serbs and Bulgarians proposed to Frederick an alliance against the Byzantine Emperor, but on condition that Frederick should allow Serbia to annex Dalmatia and retain the regions which had been taken away from Byzantium, as well as that he should leave the Asens in permanent possession of Bulgaria and secure the imperial title to Peter. Frederick gave them no decisive reply and continued his march. In this connection a historian of the nineteenth century, V. Vasilievsky, remarked: “There was a moment when the solution of the Slavonic problem in the Balkan peninsula was in the hands of the western Emperor; there was a moment when Barbarossa was about to accept the help of the Serbian and Bulgarian leaders against Byzantium, which undoubtedly would have led to the ruin of the Greek Empire.

Soon after the crossing of the crusaders into Asia Minor the Byzantine army was severely defeated by the Bulgarians. The Emperor himself narrowly escaped capture. A contemporary source reported, “The many slain filled the cities with weeping and made villages sing mournful songs.”

In 1195 a revolution occurred in Byzantium which deprived Isaac of the throne and of his sight and made his brother Alexius Emperor. First of all, Alexius had to confirm himself on the throne and therefore he opened peace negotiations with the Bulgarians. But they presented unacceptable terms. Some time later, in 1196, by means of Greek intrigues, both the brothers, Asen and later Peter, were murdered. Thereupon John, their younger brother, who had formerly lived for some time in Constantinople as hostage and had become very well acquainted with Byzantine customs, reigned in Bulgaria. He was the famous Tsar Kalojan, “from 1196 a threat to the Greeks and later to the Latins.” Byzantium could not cope alone with the new Bulgarian tsar who, entering into negotiations with Pope Innocent III, received a royal crown through his legate. The Bulgarians recognized the pope as their head, and the archbishop of Trnovo was raised to the rank of primate.

Thus, during the dynasty of the Angeli a powerful rival to Byzantium arose in the Balkan peninsula in the person of the Bulgarian king. The Second Bulgarian Kingdom, which had increased in power towards the end of the reign of the Angeli, became a real menace to the Latin Empire which was founded in the place of the Byzantine Empire.

The Third Crusade and Byzantium.

After the fruitless Second Crusade the condition of the Christian dominions in the East continued to cause serious apprehensions: the internal dissensions among the princes, the court intrigues, the quarrels of the military orders, and the pursuit of private interests — all these weakened the Christians more and more and facilitated the advance of the Muslims. The most important centers of the Christian dominions, Antioch and Jerusalem, were not strong enough to protect themselves successfully. The energetic ruler of Syria, Nurad-Din Mahmud, who in the middle of the twelfth century had taken possession of Damascus, began to threaten Antioch. Moreover, a real danger came from Egypt, where the Kurd Saladin, a talented leader and clever politician with ambitious plans, had overthrown the ruler of the Fatimid dynasty, which was ruling there, had taken possession of Egypt at the end of the seventh decade of the twelfth century, and had founded the dynasty of the Ayyoubids. Profiting by Nur-ad-Din’s death, Saladin conquered Syria and then most of Mesopotamia, and thereby surrounded the Kingdom of Jerusalem on the south, east, and north.

At that time there were serious troubles in Jerusalem, of which Saladin was aware. Learning that one of the Muslim caravans, in which his sister was traveling, had been pillaged by the Christians, Saladin entered the territory of the Kingdom of Jerusalem and in 1187, in the battle of Hittin (Hattin), close to the sea of Tiberias, defeated the Christian army. The king of Jerusalem and many other Christian princes fell into the hands of Saladin. Then he took a number of maritime places, such as Beirut, Sidon, Jaffa and so on, and thus cut off the Christians from the possibility of getting reinforcements by sea. After that Saladin marched upon Jerusalem and in the autumn of the same year (1187), without much difficulty, captured the Holy City. All the sacrifices offered by Europe and all her religious enthusiasm were of no avail.

Jerusalem passed again into the hands of the infidel. A new crusade was necessary.

The pope was acting energetically in the west in favor of the new crusade. He succeeded in rousing three sovereigns: Philip II Augustus, king of France, Richard I the Lion-Hearted (Coeur-de-Lion), king of England, and Frederick I Barbarossa, king of Germany, joined the movement. But in that crusade which began so brilliantly there was no general guiding idea. The participants in the crusade endeavored, first of all, to secure for themselves friendly relations with the rulers of the countries through which they had to pass. Philip Augustus and Richard marched via Sicily, and therefore they had to be on good terms with the king of Sicily. Intending to go to the east through the Balkan peninsula, Frederick Barbarossa entered into negotiations with the king of Hungary, the Great Župan of Serbia, the Emperor Isaac Angelus, and even with the sultan of Iconium in Asia Minor, Saladin’s enemy, a Muslim. Political combinations and concerns forbade the sovereign-crusader to regard his Muslim ally with pride or indifference. At the same time the Christians faced as their adversary no disunited Muslim forces, as they had before, but Saladin, victorious — especially after the taking of Jerusalem — talented and energetic, who had concentrated in his hands the forces of Egypt, Palestine, and Syria. On hearing of the projected crusade he appealed to the Muslims for an energetic and untiring struggle against the Christians, these “barking dogs” and “foolish men,” as he designated them in a letter to his brother. It was a kind of countercrusade against the Christians. A medieval legend relates that Saladin himself had, before this, made a tour of Europe in order to become acquainted with the position of different Christian countries. A modern historian stated, “No crusade had ever had before so clearly the character of a duel between Christianity and Islam.”

Frederick Barbarossa passed safely through Hungary and, advancing through the Balkan peninsula, entered into negotiations with the Serbs and Bulgarians. For the success of his further advance, the question of what relations he could establish with Isaac Angelus was extremely important.

Since the massacre of the Latins in Constantinople in 1182 relations between the Christian East and West had been strained. The friendly understanding of Frederick Barbarossa with the Normans, which had taken the form of the marriage of his son to the heiress of the Kingdom of Sicily, forced Isaac to regard him with still greater suspicion. Despite the treaty made at Nürnberg by an envoy of the Byzantine Emperor with Frederick before his departure for the crusade, Isaac Angelus opened negotiations with Saladin, against whom the crusade was being directed. Saladin’s envoys made their appearance at the court of Isaac. They made an alliance against the sultan of Iconium, by virtue of which Isaac, as far as he could, was to hinder Frederick from advancing to the East; at the same time Saladin promised to return the Holy Land to the Greeks. Isaac’s attitude toward Frederick was growing very doubtful. Frederick’s negotiations with the Serbs and Bulgarians, which had been clearly aimed against Byzantium, could not but alarm Isaac.

Meanwhile the crusading army of Frederick occupied Philippopolis. In his message to the western Emperor, Isaac named him “the king of Alemannia” and himself

“the emperor of the Romans;” he accused him of intending to conquer the eastern Empire, but promised to help him cross the Hellespont, if Frederick would give him noble German hostages and pledge himself to deliver him half of the land conquered by the Germans in Asia. The German ambassadors who were in Constantinople were imprisoned. Matters came to such a pass that Frederick had already determined to conquer Constantinople and had written to his son Henry to assemble the fleet in Italy and to obtain from the pope the preaching of a crusade against the Greeks. Meanwhile, after the taking of Hadrianople, Frederick’s troops occupied Thrace, almost as far as the very walls of Constantinople. A source said, “the whole city of Constantinople is shivering with fright thinking that its destruction and the extermination of its population are near.”

At that critical moment Isaac yielded. He made peace with Frederick at

Hadrianople, and the chief conditions were: Isaac provided the vessels for transferring Frederick’s troops across the Hellespont into Asia Minor, delivered him hostages, and promised to supply the crusaders with food. In the spring, 1190, the German army crossed the Hellespont.

Frederick’s expedition is known to have ended in complete failure. After an exhausting march through Asia Minor the crusading army reached the limits of the state of Armenia Minor, in Cilicia. There, in 1190, the Emperor was, by mere accident, drowned in a river; thereupon his army was dispersed. In Frederick the most dangerous adversary of Saladin passed away.

The expedition of the two other west European sovereigns, Philip II Augustus and Richard I the Lion-Hearted, who had gone to Palestine from Sicily by sea, encroached upon the interests of Byzantium much less. However, with the name of Richard is closely connected the problem of Byzantium’s definite loss of the island of Cyprus, which was an important strategic point in the eastern part of the Mediterranean.

During the tyranny of Andronicus I, Isaac Comnenus had seceded from the

Empire, proclaimed himself independent ruler of Cyprus, and entered into an agreement with the king of Sicily. Isaac Angelus’ attempt to regain the island had ended in failure. During his expedition to the East Richard the Lion-Hearted was irritated by the attitude of the ruler of Cyprus towards the vessels bearing Richard’s sister and bride, which had been wrecked off the shores of the island. Then Richard landed at Cyprus and, after Isaac Comnenus’ defeat and deposition, handed over the island to Guy de Lusignan, ex-king of Jerusalem. In 1192 the latter became ruler of Cyprus and founded there the dynasty of the Lusignans, giving up his illusive rights to the Kingdom of Jerusalem, which at that time did not belong to the Christians. It seemed that the new Latin state in Cyprus should play a very important role as a strategic basis of operation for the future Christian enterprises in the East.

The crusade accomplished nothing. Without having obtained any result both the sovereigns returned to Europe. Jerusalem remained in the power of the Muhammedans.

The Christians preserved for themselves only a narrow shore strip, from Jaffa to Tyre.

Saladin was master of the situation.

Henry VI and his eastern plans.

If the danger had been great for Byzantium under Frederick Barbarossa, it became still more threatening under his son and successor, Henry VI. The latter, filled with the Hohenstaufen idea of unrestricted power granted him by God, could not, for this reason alone, have a friendly attitude towards another emperor who claimed to possess the same absolute power, that is, the Emperor of Byzantium. But besides that, he inherited, as the husband of the Norman princess Constance, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies; therewith he inherited also the whole stubborn enmity of the Normans for Byzantium, and their aggressive plans. It seemed left for Henry VI to carry out what his father had not done, namely to annex Byzantium to the Western Empire. A sort of ultimatum was sent to Constantinople. In it Henry reclaimed from Isaac Angelus the cession of the territory in the Balkan peninsula between Dyrrachium and Thessalonica, which had been conquered by the Normans but later restored to Byzantium; in the same document the question was raised of compensation for the damages which Frederick Barbarossa had suffered during the crusade and of help for Henry by the Byzantine fleet in his expedition to Palestine. Isaac had scarcely sent Henry an embassy when in 1195, he was dethroned and blinded by his brother, Alexius III.

After this revolution the conduct of Henry VI became still more threatening. He arranged the marriage of his brother Philip of Swabia to Irene, daughter of the deposed Emperor Isaac, and thereby created for his brother some rights to Byzantium. In the person of Henry VI the new Byzantine Emperor “was to fear not only the Western Emperor, the heir of the Norman kings and crusader, but also, first of all, an avenger in behalf of the dethroned Isaac and his family.” The objective of the crusade which was being fitted out by Henry was as much Constantinople as Palestine. His plans embraced the possession of all the Christian East, including Byzantium. Circumstances seemed to be favorable to his aim: an embassy from the ruler of Cyprus came to Henry begging the Emperor to confer upon him the royal title and expressing the desire to be “forever a man (i.e., vassal) of the Roman Empire” (homo imperil esse Romani). The ruler of Armenia Minor applied to Henry with a similar request for the royal title. Had Henry succeeded in establishing himself in Syria, he would have been able entirely to surround the Byzantine Empire.

At this critical moment the pope took the side of Byzantium. He understood very well that, if the dream of the Hohenstaufens of a universal monarchy, including Byzantium, should be realized, the papacy would be doomed to permanent impotence.

Therefore the pope exerted himself to the utmost to restrain Henry from his offensive plans against the Eastern Empire; the schismatic belief of the Byzantine Emperor seems not to have alarmed the successor of St. Peter. Perhaps for the first time in history, as Norden suggested, the Greek problem almost entirely lost for the papacy its religious character and presented itself as exclusively political. “What would a spiritual victory signify for the curia if it were to be bought at the price of the political liquidation of the Papacy!” To the papacy it seemed a secondary question whether Byzantium, as a buffer state against western imperialism, would be a Catholic or schismatic state, whether a legitimate Greek emperor or a usurper would sit on the Byzantine throne; to the papacy of the end of the twelfth century the principal thing was that the Byzantine state should preserve its independence intact.

Meanwhile Henry sent a threatening message to Alexius III, similar to that which had been sent before to Isaac. Alexius could buy peace only by paying to Henry an enormous amount of money; for that purpose Alexius introduced in the whole state a special tax, which was called “Alamanian” (αλαμανικον) and took off precious ornaments from the imperial tombs. Only by such humiliation did he succeed in buying peace from his terrible adversary. At the end of the summer of 1197 Henry arrived at Messina in order to attend personally the setting out of the crusade. An enormous fleet had been assembled, which had perhaps as its aim not the Holy Land, but

Constantinople. But just at that moment the young and vigorous Henry fell ill with fever and died in the autumn of the same year, 1197. With Henry’s death his ambitious plans broke down; for the second time within a brief period the East escaped the Hohenstaufens. Byzantium met the news of Henry’s death and the release from the

“Alamanian tax” with great joy. The pope also breathed a sigh of relief.

Henry’s activity, which showed the complete triumph of political ideas in crusading enterprises, had a very important significance for the future destinies of Byzantium. “Henry raised definitely the problem of the Byzantine Empire, the solution of which was soon to become a preliminary condition of the success of the crusades.”

That Henry VI dreamed of a world monarchy and of the conquest of

Constantinople is now absolutely denied by some historians, who point out that such a statement is based only on the authority of a Byzantine historian of that epoch, Nicetas Choniates, and that the western sources afford no evidence for it. These writers contend that the statement emphasized by Norden, whom Bréhier followed, is not authentic; they believe that in 1196 Henry had no serious thought of any attack on Byzantium; that Henry’s crusade had nothing to do with the Byzantine policy, and that the foundation of a world monarchy by Henry is to be referred to the realm of fables.

But one cannot reject the evidence of the contemporary Nicetas Choniates, who made a clear statement of Henry’s aggressive plans against Byzantium. Such a policy, moreover, was an immediate continuation and result of that of his father, Frederick Barbarossa; in the course of the Third Crusade Frederick had been on the point of seizing Constantinople. Therefore the policy of Henry VI was not only the policy of a crusader, but also the policy of a man absorbed in the illusive idea of creating a world monarchy in which Byzantium was to become the most important part.

The Fourth Crusade and Byzantium

The Fourth Crusade is an extremely complicated historical phenomenon in which the most various interests and emotions are reflected; lofty religious emotion, hope of reward in the life to come, craving for spiritual action, and devotion to the obligations which had been undertaken in behalf of the crusade were mingled with the desire for adventure and gain, inclination for traveling, and the feudal custom of spending life in war. The domination of material interests and worldly feelings over spiritual and religious emotions, which had already been felt in previous crusades, was particularly evident in the Fourth Crusade; this was demonstrated in the taking of Constantinople by the crusaders in 1204 and the foundation of the Latin Empire.

At the end of the twelfth century, and especially in the epoch of Henry VI, the German influence was preponderant in Italy, and Henry’s eastern plans threatened danger to the Eastern Empire. After his sudden death circumstances changed. The new pope elected in 1198, the famous Innocent III, turned his attention to restoring in full the papal authority, which had been undermined by the policy of the German sovereigns, and to putting himself at the head of the Christian movement against Islam. Italy stood on the side of the pope in his struggle with the German influence. Seeing the chief foe of the papacy and Italy in the Hohenstaufens, the pope began to support in Germany Otto of Brunswick, elected king by a portion of Germany against Philip Hohenstaufen of Swabia, brother of the late Henry VI. A very good opportunity seemed presented to the Byzantine Empire to carry out the plans of the Comneni to replace the German world state by a similar Byzantine world state. With this in mind, probably, the Emperor Alexius III wrote Innocent III in the year of the latter’s election to the papal throne:

“We are the only two world powers: the single Roman Church and the single Empire of the successors of Justinian; therefore we must unite and endeavor to prevent a new increase in the power of the western emperor, our rival.” In reality, the complicated situation of Byzantium, both external and internal, left no hope for the success of such ambitious plans.

But Innocent III did not want to see the eastern emperor a schismatic; he opened negotiations for union. These progressed slowly, for in one of his letters to Alexius the irritated pope threatened, in case of resistance, to support the right to the Byzantine throne of the family of the dethroned and blinded Isaac, whose daughter had been married to the German king, Philip of Swabia; probably the pope did not mean to carry out his threat. Alexius III, however, did not consent to his proposal of union, and in one of his letters he even brought forward the statement that the imperial power was higher than the spiritual. Thereupon relations between Byzantium and Rome became somewhat strained.

While carrying on negotiations with Constantinople and subtle diplomatic propaganda in Germany, Innocent III was exerting extraordinary activity in organizing a general crusade in which western and eastern Christianities should be fused together in order to reach the common aim — the liberation of the Holy Land from the hands of the infidel. Papal messages were sent to all the Christian sovereigns; the papal legates were traveling over Europe and promising the participants in the crusade the remission of their sins and many worldly practical advantages; eloquent preachers were encouraging the masses. In a letter Innocent III described the sad conditions of the Holy Land and expressed his anger against the sovereigns and princes of his epoch who were devoting their time to pleasures and petty quarrels; he described what the Muslims, whom the pope named in his letter pagans, think and say about the Christians. The pope wrote:

Our enemies insult us and say, “Where is your God who can free from our hands neither Himself nor you? We have polluted your sanctuaries, put forth our hands against the objects of your adoration, and violently attacked the Holy Land. In spite of you we keep in our hands your fathers’ cradle of superstition. We have reduced and broken the spears of the French, the efforts of the English, the vigour of the Germans, the heroism of the Spaniards. What has all this valor which you sent against us accomplished?

Where is your God? Let Him rise and help you! Let Him show how He protects you and Himself! We have no more to do except, after the extermination of the defenders left by you for the protection of the country, to fall upon your own land in order to eradicate your name and the remembrance of you.” What may we reply to such aggressions?

How may we refute their insults? Indeed, that which they say is partly the very truth …

When the pagans display their anger with impunity in the whole country, the Christians do not dare any more to go out of their cities. They cannot even stay in them without shuddering. The sword [of the infidel] waits for them without; within they are torpid from fear.

None of the principal west European sovereigns answered the call of Innocent III. Philip II Augustus of France had been excommunicated by the Church for his divorce from his wife; John Lackland of England who had just ascended the throne, had first of all to establish himself there and was absorbed in a stubborn strife with the barons; finally, in Germany a struggle for the throne burst out between Otto of Brunswick and Philip of Swabia, so that neither of them could leave the country. Alone among sovereigns the king of Hungary took the cross. But the choicest of the western knights, particularly of northern France, took part in the crusade. Thibault, count of Champagne, Baldwin of Flanders, Louis of Blois, and many others assumed the cross. The crusading army was composed of French, Flemish, English, Germans, and Sicilians.

But the central figure of the crusade was the doge of Venice, Enrico Dandolo, a typical Venetian in mind and character. Although on his accession to the throne he was already eighty years of age, if not more, he resembled a young man by his powerful energy, devoted patriotism, and clear understanding of the most important purposes of Venice, especially of her economic aims. When the majesty, welfare, and benefit of the Republic of St. Mark were involved, Dandolo had no scruples regarding the means.

Possessing the art of dealing with men, as well as extraordinary will power and circumspection, he was a remarkable statesman, an ingenious diplomat, and, at the same time, an expert economist.

At the beginning of the Fourth Crusade, the relations between Byzantium and Venice were not particularly friendly. A legend relates that, about thirty years before, Dandolo, during his stay in Constantinople as a hostage, had been treacherously blinded by the Greeks by means of a concave mirror which strongly reflected the rays of the sun; this circumstance was the cause of Dandolo’s deep hatred of Byzantium. Of course, the mutual distrust and rivalry of Byzantium and Venice were founded upon deeper reasons. Dandolo realized perfectly well what an inexhaustible mine of rich resources was the East in general, Christian and Muhammedan, for the economic development of the Republic; he turned his attention first of all to his nearest rival, Byzantium. He demanded that all the commercial privileges which had been obtained by Venice in Byzantium and had been somewhat curtailed under the last Comneni, beginning with Manuel, should be restored in full measure. Dandolo had chiefly in view the arrest of the Venetian merchants and the seizure of their ships and confiscation of their property under Manuel, as well as the massacre of the Latins in 1182. The Doge could not at all approve, after many years of Venetian trade monopoly in the Eastern Empire, the according of trade privileges to other Italian cities, Pisa and Genoa, whereby the Venetian commercial prosperity was considerably undermined. Gradually, in the mind of the keenly discerning and clever Dandolo, a plan was ripening to conquer Byzantium in order to secure definitely the Oriental market for Venice. Like Innocent III, Dandolo menaced Alexius III with supporting the rights of the family of the deposed and blinded Isaac Angelus to the Byzantine throne.

Thus, in the preparations for the Fourth Crusade, two men were of first

importance: Pope Innocent III, as a representative of the spiritual element in the crusade sincerely wished to take the Holy Land from the hands of the Muhammedans and was absorbed in the idea of union; and the Doge Enrico Dandolo, as a representative of the secular, earthly element, put first material, commercial purposes.

Two other men exercised considerable influence upon the course of the crusade: the Byzantine prince Alexius, son of the dethroned Isaac Angelus, who had escaped from Constantinople to the West, and Philip of Swabia, of Germany, who had married a daughter of Isaac Angelus, the sister of the prince Alexius.

Thibaut, count of Champagne, was elected the head of the crusading army. Beloved and highly esteemed by all, he was an animating force in the enterprise. But unfortunately Thibaut suddenly died before the crusade started. The crusaders, deprived of their leader, elected a new head in the person of Boniface, marquis of Montferrat. The leading role in the crusade passed, therefore, from a Frenchman to an Italian prince.

At that time Palestine belonged to the Egyptian dynasty of the Ayyoubids, among whom, at the end of the twelfth century, after the death of the famous Saladin (March, 1193), troubles and strife broke out. These circumstances seemed to facilitate the crusaders’ task. Toward the beginning of the Fourth Crusade, in Syria and Palestine there remained in the hands of the Christians two important industrial centers, Antioch and Tripoli, and a coast fortress, Acre (Acra, Saint-Jean-d’Acre).

The crusaders had to assemble at Venice which, for a certain sum, offered to transport them on its vessels to the East. The nearest objective of the crusade was Egypt, under whose power Palestine was at that time; it was intended to conquer Egypt at first, and then, with that advantage, to obtain from the Muslims the restoration of Palestine. Venice, however, did not wish to start transporting the crusaders until the sum agreed upon should be paid in full. The sum not being forthcoming, the crusaders were finally obliged to agree to the Doge’s proposal that they should help him to reconquer the city of Zara (Zadr), situated on the Dalmatian shores of the Adriatic, which had recently seceded from Venice and passed over to the king of Hungary. He had taken the cross; nevertheless the crusaders consented to the Doge’s proposal and sailed towards Zara, a city which was to participate in the crusade. Thus, the crusade fitted out against the infidel began with a siege by crusaders of a city where crusaders lived. In spite of the indignant protests of the pope and his threats to excommunicate the crusading army, the crusaders attacked Zara, took it by storm for Venice, and destroyed it. The crucifixes exposed by the inhabitants of the city upon the walls did not deter the assailants. A historian exclaimed, “A beautiful starting for a crusade!” The Zara case dealt a heavy blow to the crusaders’ prestige, but gave Dandolo the right to celebrate his first victory in the crusade.

When the pope learned of the taking of Zara and heard the complaints of the king of Hungary against the allies, that is to say, the crusaders and Venetians, he excommunicated them. Innocent wrote the crusaders: “Instead of reaching the Promised Land, you thirsted for the blood of your brethren. Satan, the universal tempter, has deceived you … The inhabitants of Zara hang crucifixes upon the walls. In spite of the Crucified you have stormed the city and forced it to surrender … Under fear of anathema, halt in this matter of destruction and restore to the envoys of the king of Hungary all which has been taken away from them. If you will not, know that you are falling under excommunication and will be deprived of the privileges granted all the crusaders.”

The threats of the pope and his excommunication produced no effect upon the Venetians. But the crusaders — the so-called “Francs” — exerted themselves to the utmost to have the papal excommunication raised. Finally, the pope, having pity upon them, raised the excommunication, but left the Venetians under the ban. He did not, however, definitely forbid the pardoned crusaders to associate with the

excommunicated Venetians. They continued to act together. During the siege and surrender of Zara a new personality makes his appearance in the history of the Fourth Crusade — the Byzantine prince Alexius Angelus, son of the dethroned and blinded Isaac. Alexius had escaped from prison and fled to the West in order to obtain help for restoring the throne to his unfortunate father. After a fruitless meeting with the pope in Rome, the prince went to the north, to Germany, to his brother-in-law Philip of Swabia, who had married Irene, Alexius’ sister and Isaac’s daughter. Irene begged her husband to help her brother, who, “without shelter and fatherland, was traveling like the floating stars and had nothing with him but his own body.” Philip, who was at that time absorbed in his struggle with Otto of Brunswick, was unable to support Alexius effectively, but he sent an embassy to Zara begging Venice and the crusaders to help Isaac and his son by restoring them to the Byzantine throne. For that aid Alexius promised to subordinate Byzantium to Rome as far as religion was concerned, to pay a large amount of money, and, after restoring his father to the throne, to take a personal part in the crusade.

Thus was raised the question of the possibility of completely changing the crusade in direction and character. Doge Dandolo immediately realized all the advantages of Philip’s proposal for Venice. The chief role in the expedition against Constantinople and in restoring the dethroned Isaac to the throne opened wide horizons to the Doge. For some time the crusaders did not consent to the proposed change and demanded that the crusade should not be averted from its original aim.

But, finally, both sides came to an agreement.

Most of the crusaders determined to participate in the expedition upon

Constantinople, but on condition that after a short stay there they go to Egypt, as had been formerly planned. Thus, a treaty of the conquest of Constantinople was concluded between Venice and the crusaders at Zara. The prince Alexius himself came into the camp at Zara. In May, 1203, the fleet with Dandolo, Boniface of Montferrat, and the Prince Alexius sailed from Zara and a month after made its appearance before Constantinople.

A Russian chronicle of Novgorod, in which is preserved a detailed account, not yet sufficiently studied, of the Fourth Crusade, the taking of Constantinople by the crusaders, and the foundation of the Latin Empire, remarks, “The Franks and all their chiefs have loved the gold and silver which the son of Isaac has promised them, and have forgotten the precepts of the Emperor and Pope.” Thus, the Russian point of view holds the crusaders blameworthy for their deviation from their original aim. The most recent investigator of the account of Novgorod, P. Bizilli, considered it very important and said that it gives a special theory explaining the crusade upon Byzantium which no west European source mentions, namely that “that crusade was decided by the Pope and Philip of Swabia together.”

Many scholars have devoted much attention to the problem of the Fourth

Crusade. Their chief attention has been turned to the causes of the change of direction of the crusade. One party of scholars explained the whole unusual course of the crusading enterprise by accidental circumstances and were the followers of the so-called “theory of accidents.” An opposing group of scholars saw the cause of the change in the premeditated policy of Venice and Germany and became the partisans of the so-called “theory of premeditation.”

Until about 1860 no dispute on that problem had existed because all historians had depended mainly on the statements of the chief western source of the Fourth Crusade and a participant in it, the French historian Geoffrey de Villehardouin. In his exposition the events of the crusade progressed simply and accidentally: not having vessels, the crusaders hired them at Venice and therefore assembled there; after having hired the vessels they could not pay the Republic of St. Mark the full amount fixed and were forced to support the Venetians in their strife with Zara; then followed the coming of the prince Alexius, who inclined the crusaders against Byzantium. Thus, there was no question of any treason of Venice nor of any complicated political intrigue.

In 1861, for the first time, a French scholar, Mas-Latrie, author of the very well-known history of the island of Cyprus, accused Venice, which had important commercial interests in Egypt, of making a secret treaty with the sultan of Egypt and thereupon skillfully forcing the crusaders to abandon the original plan of the expedition upon Egypt and to sail against Byzantium. Then the German historian, Karl Hopf, seemed definitely to prove the treason of the Venetians towards the Christian task, stating that the treaty between Venice and the sultan of Egypt was concluded on the 13th of May, 1202. Although Hopf produced no text of the treaty and did not even indicate where this text was to be found, the authority of the German scholar was so great that many scholars adopted his standpoint without any doubt. But it was shown soon after that Hopf had no new document in his hands at all and that his date was quite arbitrary. A French scholar, Hanotaux, who a little later investigated this problem, refuted the theory of Venetian treason and, consequently, “the theory of premeditation.” But he thought that if the Venetians were the chief instigators of the change of direction of the Fourth Crusade, they had obvious motives: the desire to subdue Zara, which had revolted; the wish to restore their candidate to the Byzantine throne, to revenge themselves on Byzantium for the sympathy Alexius III had given the Pisans, and, possibly, the hope to obtain some profit, if the Empire fell to pieces. The theory of Hopf at the present time is considered refuted. If the Venetians can be really accused of treason, they became traitors not because of a secret treaty with the Muslims, but exclusively because they had in view their commercial interests in the Byzantine Empire.

But the followers of “the theory of premeditation” did not confine themselves to the attempt to prove the fact of the treason of Venice. In 1875 a new motive was brought forward by a French scholar. Count de Riant, who tried to prove that the chief instigator of the change of direction of the Fourth Crusade was not Dandolo, but the king of Germany, Philip of Swabia, son-in-law of the deposed Isaac Angelus. In Germany a skillful political intrigue had been woven which was to direct the crusaders upon Constantinople. Boniface of Montferrat fulfilled Philip’s plans in the East. In the change of direction of the crusade Riant sees one of the episodes of the long struggle between the papacy and the Empire. By his leading role in the crusade Philip humiliated the pope and falsified his conception of the crusade; welcoming the restored Byzantine Emperor as an ally, Philip might hope to be successful in his strife with the pope and with his rival in Germany, Otto of Brunswick. But a blow was struck to Riant’s theory by an investigation of Vasilievsky, who showed that the flight of the prince Alexius to the West took place not in the year 1201, as all the historians believed, but in 1202, so that for a complicated and long conceived political intrigue “Philip was left neither place nor time; thus the German intrigue may be proved as illusive as the Venetian.” The accurate investigation of a Frenchman, Tessier, on the basis of examination of contemporary sources, refuted the theory of the German sovereign’s role and returned to the acknowledgment of the great significance of the narrative of Villehardouin, that is to say, to the prevailing standpoint before 1860, “the theory of accidents.” Tessier said that the Fourth Crusade was a French crusade, and the conquest of Constantinople was an achievement neither Germanic nor Venetian, but French. Of Riant’s premeditation theory there remains only the fact that Philip of Swabia took part in the change of direction of the crusade and, like Henry VI, claimed the Eastern Empire; but the sources do not justify affirming the existence of a leading and subtle plan on Philip’s part on which could depend the destiny of the whole Fourth Crusade.

At the end of the nineteenth century a German historian, W. Norden, definitely refuting “the theory of premeditation” and agreeing essentially with “the theory of accidents,” endeavored to investigate the latter more deeply, discussed the problem of the Fourth Crusade in the light of the political, economic, and religious relations between the West and East, and tried to elucidate the inner connection between the Fourth Crusade and the history of the previous hundred and fifty years.

To sum up: in the complicated history of the Fourth Crusade there were in action various forces originating in the motives of the pope, Venice, and the German king in the West, as well as forces originating in the external and internal conditions of Byzantium in the East. The interplay of these forces created an exceedingly complex phenomenon which is not entirely clear, in some details, even at the present day.

“This,” said the French historian Luchaire, “will never be known, and science has something better to do than interminably to discuss an insoluble problem.” Grégoire has recently even gone so far as to proclaim that “there is really no problem of the Fourth Crusade.”

But among all the plans, hopes, and complications it remains clear that over all prevailed the firm will of Dandolo and his unyielding determination to develop the trade activity of Venice, to which the possession of the eastern markets promised limitless wealth and a brilliant future. Moreover, Dandolo was greatly alarmed by the growing economic power of Genoa, which at that time, in the Near East in general and in Constantinople in particular, began to gain a strong foothold. The economic competition between Venice and Genoa must also be taken into consideration when the problem of the Fourth Crusade is discussed. Finally the unpaid debt of Byzantium to Venice for the Venetian property seized by Manuel Comnenus may also have had something to do with the diversion of the Fourth Crusade.

At the end of June, 1203, the crusading fleet appeared before Constantinople, which at that time, in the eyes of western Europe, said Nicetas Choniates, “looked perfectly like Sybaris, which was well known for its effeminacy.” A. participant in the crusade, the French writer Villehardouin, described the deep impression produced upon the crusaders by the view of the Byzantine capital:

Now you may imagine that those who had never before seen Constantinople looked upon it very earnestly, for they never thought there could be in all the world so rich a city, when they saw the high walls and magnificent towers that enclosed it round about, the rich palaces and mighty churches, of which there were so many that no one would have believed it who had not seen it with his own eyes, — and the height and length of that city which above all others was sovereign. And be it known to you that no man there was of such sturdy courage but his flesh trembled; and it was no wonder, for never was so great an enterprise undertaken by anyone since the creation of the world.

It seemed probable that the fortified capital could successfully resist the crusaders, who were not very numerous. But the latter, having landed on the European shore and taken the suburb of Galata, on the left bank of the Golden Horn, forced the iron chain which protected the entrance into it, penetrated the Golden Horn and burned a great number of the Byzantine vessels. At the same time the knights stormed the city itself.

In spite of a desperate resistance, particularly by the mercenary Varangian troops, the crusaders, in July, took possession of the city. Alexius III, having neither energy nor will power, abandoned the capital and fled, taking with him the public treasure and jewels.

Isaac II was released from prison and restored to his throne; his son, the prince Alexius, who had arrived with the crusaders, was proclaimed his co-regent (Alexius IV). This first siege and first taking of Constantinople by the crusaders was in order to restore Isaac II upon the throne.

Having placed Isaac on the throne, the crusaders, with Dandolo at their head, demanded from the Emperor’s son the fulfillment of the promises which he had made, that is to say, that he should pay them a large sum of money and start with them to the crusade, for the western knights were already insisting that they should set off. Alexius IV urged the crusaders not to stay in Constantinople, but to pitch their camp outside, in its suburb, and, unable to pay the whole amount, besought them to grant him a respite.

This led to strained relations between the Latins and Greeks. In the city itself, meanwhile, the population grew discontented with the policy of the Emperors, whom they accused of having betrayed the Empire to the crusaders. An insurrection burst out.

The son-in-law of the Emperor Alexius III, the ambitious Alexius Ducas Mourtzouphlos, was proclaimed Emperor at the beginning of 1204; Isaac II and Alexius IV were deposed.

Isaac died very soon in prison, and Alexius IV, by order of Mourtzouphlos, was strangled.

Mourtzouphlos, known as the Emperor Alexius V, was a nominee of the national party, which was hostile to the crusaders. The crusaders had no relations with him, and after the death of Isaac and Alexius they considered themselves completely free from any obligation towards Byzantium. Conflict between the Greeks and crusaders was unavoidable. The crusaders began to discuss the plan of taking Constantinople for themselves. In March of the same year, 1204, a treaty between Venice and the crusaders concerning the division of the Empire after the conquest was elaborated and concluded. The first words of the treaty were impressive: “Calling upon the name of Christ, we must conquer the city with the armed hand!” The chief points of the treaty were as follows: in the captured city the Latin government was to be established; the allies were to share in the booty of Constantinople according to agreement; then a committee formed of six Venetians and six Frenchmen was to elect as emperor that man who, in their opinion, could best govern the country “to the glory of God and the Holy Roman Church and Empire;” to the Emperor was to be assigned a quarter of the conquered territory within the capital and without, as well as two palaces in the capital; the other three-quarters of the conquered territory were to be divided, half for Venice, the rest for the other crusaders; the possession of St. Sophia and the election of a patriarch were to be left to the side which did not provide the Emperor; all the crusaders who received possessions large or small were to take feudal oath to the Emperor; only the Doge Dandolo was to be exempted from this oath. This was the basis upon which the future Latin Empire was to be established.

Having agreed upon these conditions for the partition of the Empire the

crusaders devoted themselves to the task of taking Constantinople, storming it by land and sea. For some days the capital stubbornly defended itself.

Finally arrived the fatal day, the 13th of April, 1204, when the crusaders succeeded in taking possession of Constantinople. The Emperor Alexius V Ducas Mourtzouphlos, fearing to be caught and “to fall into the teeth of the Latins as a tidbit or dessert,” fled. Constantinople passed into the hands of the crusaders. The capital of the Byzantine Empire “fell when assailed by that criminal filibustering expedition, the Fourth Crusade.”

Taking up the narration of the events of this period, Nicetas Choniates wrote:

“What a state of mind must, naturally, be his who will narrate the public disasters which have befallen this queen of cities [Constantinople] in the reign of the earthly angels [Angeli]!”

After the taking of the city, for three days, the Latins treated the city with appalling cruelty and pillaged everything which had been collected in Constantinople for many centuries. Neither churches, nor relics, nor monuments of art, nor private possessions were spared or respected. The western knights and their soldiers, as well as the Latin monks and abbots, took part in the pillaging.

Nicetas Choniates, an eyewitness of the capture of Constantinople, gives a striking picture of appalling sacking, violation, sacrilege, and ruin effected by the crusaders in the capital of the Empire; even the Muhammedans had been more merciful towards the Christians after the capture of Jerusalem than these men who claimed to be soldiers of Christ. Another stirring description of the sack of Constantinople by the crusaders, was given by another eyewitness, Nicholas Mesarites, metropolitan of Ephesus, in his funeral oration on the occasion of the death of his elder brother.

In those three days when the crusaders were allowed to pillage Constantinople, a mass of precious monuments of art perished; many libraries were plundered; manuscripts were destroyed. St. Sophia was mercilessly robbed. The contemporary Villehardouin observed: “Since the world was created, never had so much booty been won in any city!” A Russian chronicle of Novgorod describes in particular detail the scenes of pillage in churches and monasteries. The disaster of 1204 is also mentioned in Russian

“chronographies.”

The spoils were collected and divided among the Latins, both laymen and

ecclesiastics. After this crusade the whole of western Europe became enriched with the treasures exported from Constantinople; most of the western European churches received something from “the holy relics” of Constantinople. The greater part of the relics, which were in the monasteries of France, perished during the French Revolution.

The four bronze horses of antique work which had served as one of the best ornaments of the Constantinopolitan Hippodrome were carried away by Dandolo to Venice, where they ornament today the portal of the cathedral of St. Mark.

Nicetas Choniates, in an eloquent lament, described and mourned the ruin of the city, imitating the Biblical lamentation of the Hebrew prophet, Jeremiah, and the Psalms. The Byzantine lamentation begins: “Oh, city, city, eye of all cities, subject of narratives over alt the world, spectacle above the world, supporter of churches, leader of faith, guide of orthodoxy, protector of education, abode of all good! Thou hast drunk to the dregs the cup of the anger of the Lord and hast been visited with fire fiercer than that which in days of yore descended upon the five cities (Pentapolis).” Meanwhile, the difficult task of organizing the captured territory confronted the conquerors. They decided to establish an empire like that which had existed before. The question of the selection of the emperor arose. One man seemed destined to occupy the throne — the leader of the crusade. Marquis Boniface of Montferrat. But Dandolo seems to have opposed his candidacy; he judged Boniface too powerful and his possessions situated too near Venice. Accordingly Boniface was passed over. Dandolo himself as doge of the Republic of Venice did not pretend to the imperial crown. The electoral college assembled to elect the new emperor and fixed its choice, not without the influence of Dandolo, on Baldwin, count of Flanders, more distant from Venice and less powerful than Boniface. He was duly elected Emperor and was crowned in St. Sophia with great pomp.

At the time of Baldwin’s ascension to the throne three Greek rulers were living; the two Emperors, Alexius III Angelus and Alexius V Ducas Mourtzouphlos, and Theodore Lascaris, who was then still the despot of Nicaea. Baldwin succeeded in conquering the partisans of the two Emperors; the relations of the Latin Empire to Theodore Lascaris, who founded an empire at Nicaea, belongs to a later chapter.

After the-election of the Emperor the next problem was how to divide the conquered territory among the participants in the crusade. “The sharing of Romania”

(Partitio Romanie), as the Latins and Greeks often called the Eastern Empire, was carried out, generally speaking, upon the basis of the conditions established in March, 1204. Constantinople was divided between Baldwin and Dandolo, so that the Emperor received five-eighths of the city and the Doge the other three-eighths and St. Sophia, Besides five-eighths of the capital, Baldwin was awarded the territory of southern Thrace and a small part of northwestern Asia Minor adjoining the Bosphorus, the Sea of Marmora, and the Hellespont; some of the larger islands of the Aegean (Archipelago), for example, Lesbos, Chios, Samos, and some others, were also assigned to him. Thus, both shores of the Bosphorus and Hellespont came under the power of Baldwin.

Boniface of Montferrat as compensation for having missed the imperial crown was promised some possessions in Asia Minor, but he actually received Thessalonica with the surrounding territory in Macedonia and the north of Thessaly, forming the Kingdom of Thessalonica, which he held as Baldwin’s vassal.

Venice secured the lion’s share of the partition of Romania. The Republic of St.

Mark received some points on the Adriatic shore, for example, Dyrrachium, the Ionian islands, the greater part of the islands of the Aegean, some places in the Peloponnesus, the island of Crete, some seaports in Thrace, with Gallipoli on the Hellespont, and some territory in the interior of Thrace. Dandolo assumed the Byzantine title of “Despot,”

was released from paying homage to the Emperor, and styled himself “lord of the fourth and a half of all the Empire of Romania,” that is to say, of three-eighths (quartae partis et dimidiae totius imperii Romanie dominator); this title was used by the doges until the middle of the fourteenth century. According to the treaty, the Church of St.

Sophia was delivered into the hands of the Venetian clergy, and a Venetian, Thomas Morosini, was raised to the patriarchate and became the head of the Catholic church in the new Empire. A Byzantine historian, Nicetas Choniates, a strong partisan of the Greek Orthodox church, gave in his history a very unfavorable portrait of Thomas Morosini.

It is clear that, owing to the acquisitions made by Venice, the new Empire was very weak compared with the powerful Republic, whose position in the East became commanding. The best part of the Byzantine possessions passed into the hands of the Republic of St. Mark, the best harbors, the most important strategic points, and many fertile territories; the whole maritime way from Venice to Constantinople was in the power of the Republic. The Fourth Crusade, which had created “the Colonial Empire” of Venice in the East, gave the Republic innumerable commercial advantages and raised her to the pinnacle of her political and economic power. It was a complete victory for the able, thoughtfully pondered, and egoistically patriotic policy of Doge Dandolo.

The Latin Empire was founded on the feudal basis. The conquered territory was divided by the Emperor into a great number of larger or smaller fiefs, for the possession of which the western knights were obliged to take vassal oath to the Latin Emperor of Constantinople.

Boniface of Montferrat, king of Thessalonica, marched through Thessaly

southward into Greece, and conquered Athens. In the Middle Ages, Athens was a half-forgotten provincial city where upon the Acropolis, in the ancient Parthenon, an Orthodox cathedral in honor of the Virgin Mary was located. At the time of the Latin conquest, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, the famous Michael Acominatus (Choniates) had been archbishop of Athens for about thirty years. Michael left a rich literary inheritance in speeches, poetry, and letters, which gives good information on the internal history of the Empire under the Comneni and Angeli, as well as on the conditions of Attica and Athens in the Middle Ages. Those provinces are represented in Michael’s works in a very dark aspect, with barbarian population, perhaps partly Slavonic, with barbarian language round about Athens, with Attica desolate, and its population poor. “Having stayed a long time at Athens I have become barbarian,” wrote Michael and compared the city of Pericles to Tartarus. An assiduous protector of medieval Athens who had devoted much time and work to his poor flock, Michael, judging it impossible to resist the troops of Boniface, abandoned his seat and spent the rest of his life in solitude on one of the islands close to the shores of Attica. The Latins conquered Athens, which, with Thebes, was transmitted by Boniface to a Burgundian knight, Othon de la Roche, who assumed the title of the Duke of Athens and Thebes (dux Athenarum atque Thebarum). The cathedral upon the Acropolis passed into the hands of the Latin clergy.

While the Duchy of Athens and Thebes was founded in central Greece, in

southern Greece, that is to say, in the ancient Peloponnesus, which was at that time often called Morea, a name whose etymological origin is not clear, was formed the Principality of Achaia, which was organized by the French.

Geoffrey de Villehardouin, nephew of the famous historian, was off the shore of Syria when he learned of the taking of Constantinople by the crusaders; he hastened thither, but he was driven by stress of weather upon the southern shores of the Peloponnesus. He landed there and conquered a part of the country. But feeling that he could not maintain himself with merely his own forces, he asked help from the king of Thessalonica, Boniface, who at that time was in Attica. The latter granted the right of conquering Morea to one of his knights, a Frenchman, William de Champlitte, from the family of the counts of Champagne. In the course of two years he and Villehardouin subdued the whole country. Thus, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, the Byzantine Peloponnesus was converted into the French Principality of Achaia, with Prince William at the head of its government; it was divided into twelve baronies and received the western European feudal organization. After William, the princely power passed over to the house of the Villehardouins. The court of the prince of Achaia was marked by its brilliancy and “seemed larger than the court of any great king.” “There French was spoken as well as in Paris.” About twenty years after the formation of the Latin feudal states and possessions on the Byzantine territory, Pope Honorius III, in his letter to Blanche, queen of France, spoke of the creation in the east “as a sort of new France” (ibique noviter quasi nova Francia est creata).

The Peloponnesus feudaries built fortified castles with towers and walls, on the west European model; the best known among them was Mistra, on the slopes of Mount Taygetus, in ancient Laconia, close to ancient Sparta. This imposing medieval feudal construction became in the second half of the thirteenth century the capital of the Greco-Byzantine despots in the Peloponnesus, when the Palaeologi had reconquered Mistra from the Franks. Even today Mistra strikes scholars and tourists, with its imposing half-ruined buildings, as one of the rarest spectacles of Europe, and preserves intact in its churches the precious frescoes of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, which are extremely important for the history of later Byzantine art. In the western part of the peninsula was the strongly fortified castle of Clermont, which was preserved almost intact until the third decade of the nineteenth century, when it was destroyed by the Turks. A Greek chronicler wrote of that castle that, if the Franks had lost Morea, the possession of Clermont only would have sufficed to reconquer the whole peninsula.

The Franks also built some other strongholds.

In the Peloponnesus the Franks succeeded in establishing themselves firmly in two of the three southern peninsulas; but in the central one in spite of two fortified castles that they built, they never really overcame the stubborn resistance of the Slavs (the tribe of Melingi) who lived in the mountains. The Greeks of Morea, at least the majority of them, might have seen in the rule of the Franks a welcome relief from the financial oppression of the Byzantine government.

In the south of the Peloponnesus Venice possessed two important seaports, Modon and Coron, which were excellent stations for the Venetian vessels on their way to the East and at the same time very good points for observing the maritime trade of the Levant. They were the two “principal eyes of the commune” (oculi capitales communis).

Concerning the epoch of the Latin sway in me Peloponnesus, there is a great deal of interesting information in various sources, particularly in the so-called Chronicle of Morea (fourteenth century) which survives in different versions, Greek (in verse), French, Italian, and Spanish. If from the point of view of exact exposition of fact the Chronicle of Morea cannot occupy a chief place among the other sources, it nevertheless gives a rich mine of precious material about the internal conditions of living in the epoch of the Frankish rule in the Peloponnesus, with the institutions, the public and private life, and, finally, with the geography of Morea at that time. The Chronicle of Morea, as a source exceptionally rich and various in its information on the internal and cultural history of the epoch, when Greco-Byzantine and western feudal elements united together to create exceedingly interesting living conditions, deserves particular attention.

Some scholars suppose that certainly the Frankish rule in Morea, and probably the Chronicle of Morea itself, influenced Goethe, who in the third act of the second part of his tragedy “Faust” lays the scene in Greece, at Sparta, where the love story between Faust and Helena takes place. Faust himself is represented there as a prince of the conquered Peloponnesus surrounded by the feudaries; the character of his rule reminds us somewhat of one of the Villehardouins, as the latter is represented in the Chronicle of Morea. In a conversation between Mephistopheles, in the form of Phorcias, and Helena, J. Schmitt thinks that Mistra, which had been built precisely at the time of the Latin sway in Morea, is without doubt described, Phorcias said:

Thus stood, for many years, forlorn the sloping ridge

That northward to the height rises in Sparta’s rear,

Behind Taygetus, whence, still a merry brook

Downward Eurotas rolls, and then, along our vale

Broad-flowing among reeds, gives nurture to your swans.

There in the mountain-vale, behind, a stalwart race

Themselves establish’d, pressing from Cimmerian night,

And have uprear’d a fastness, inaccessible,

Whence land and folk around they harry, as they list.

Later appears a description of this castle, which has pillars, pilasters, arches, archlets, balconies, galleries, scutcheons, and so forth, like a typical medieval castle. All this passage of the tragedy seems to have been written under the influence of the Chronicle of Morea, and therefore from the conquest of Morea by the Franks came some of the material for the poetic scenes of Faust.

The taking of Constantinople by the crusaders and the establishment of the Latin Empire put the pope in a difficult position. Innocent III had opposed the diversion of the crusade and had excommunicated the crusaders and Venetians after the seizure of Zara; but after the fall of the capital of the Byzantine Empire, he stood face to face with the accomplished fact.

The Emperor Baldwin, who in his letter to the pope named himself “by the Grace of God the Emperor of Constantinople and always Augustus,” as well as “the vassal of the Pope” (miles suus) notified the latter of the taking of the Byzantine capital and of his own election. In his reply Innocent III entirely disregards his former attitude. He

“rejoices in the Lord” (gavisi sumus in Domino) at the miracle effected “for the praise and glory of His name, for the honor and benefit of the Apostolic throne, and for the profit and exaltation of the Christian people.” The pope called upon all clergy, all sovereigns, and all peoples to support the cause of Baldwin and expressed the hope that since Constantinople was taken it would be easier to reconquer the Holy Land from the hands of the infidel; and at the close of the letter the pope admonished Baldwin to be a faithful and obedient son of the Catholic Church. In another letter Innocent wrote: “Of course, although we are pleased to know that Constantinople has returned to obedience to its mother, the Holy Catholic Church, nevertheless we should be still more pleased, if Jerusalem had been restored to the power of the Christian people.”

But the state of mind of the pope changed when he had become acquainted in more detail with all the horrors of the sack of Constantinople and with the text of the treaty concerning the partition of the Empire. The treaty had a purely secular character with a clear tendency to eliminate the interference of the Church. Baldwin had not asked the pope to confirm his imperial tide; and Baldwin and Dandolo had independently decided the question of St. Sophia, of the election of the patriarch, of ecclesiastical property, and other religious affairs. During the sack of Constantinople many churches and monasteries as well as a great number of highly honored sanctuaries had been denied and polluted. All this evoked in the heart of the pope alarm and discontent with the crusaders. He wrote the Marquess of Montferrat:

“Having neither right nor power over the Greeks you seem to have imprudently deviated from the purity of your vow, when you marched not against the Saracens, but against the Christians, meaning not to reconquer Jerusalem, but to take Constantinople, preferring earthly riches to heavenly riches. But it is much more important that some (of the crusaders) spared neither religion, nor age, nor sex…”

Thus, the Latin Empire in the East, established on feudal grounds, possessed no strong political power; moreover, in church affairs, the Empire was unable for a time to establish relations with the Roman curia that were entirely satisfactory.

The aim of the western knights and merchants was not thoroughly attained, for not all Byzantine territories were in the power of the new Latin possessions in the East.

After 1204 there were three independent Greek states. The Empire of Nicaea, under the dynasty of the Lascaris, in the western part of Asia Minor, situated between the Latin possessions in Asia Minor and the territories of the Sultanate of Iconium or Rum, and possessing a part of the seashore of the Aegean, was the biggest independent Greek center and the most dangerous rival of the Latin Empire. Then, in the western part of the Balkan peninsula, in Epirus, there was founded the Despotat of Epirus under the rule of the dynasty of the Comneni-Angeli. Finally, on the remote southeastern shore of the Black Sea, in 1204, was founded the Empire of Trebizond with the dynasty of the

“Great Comneni.”

If the Latins in the East had no political unity, they had no religious unity either, for these three Greek states remained faithful to the doctrine and practice of the Greek Eastern Church; from the point of view of the pope they were schismatic. Nicaea was particularly displeasing to the pope; there the Greek bishop, paying no attention to the residence of the Latin patriarch in Constantinople, was called the patriarch of Constantinople. In addition, the Greeks of the Latin Empire, despite their political subjugation by the Latins, did not adopt Catholicism. The military occupation of the country did not signify ecclesiastical union.

The results of the Fourth Crusade were as fatal for the Byzantine Empire as for the future of the crusades. The Empire could never recover from the blow inflicted on it in 1204; it lost forever the significance of a political world power. Politically, the Eastern Empire, as a whole, ceased to exist; it yielded its place to a number of west European feudal states and never again, even after the restoration of the Empire under the Palaeologi, did it regain its former brilliancy and influence.

As regards the significance of the Fourth Crusade for the general problem of the crusading movement, it showed, first of all, in the clearest way that the idea of the movement had become entirely secular; secondly, it bifurcated the single motive which had formerly drawn the western peoples to the East. After 1204 they had to direct their forces not only against the Muslims in Palestine or Egypt, but, on a larger scale, to their own new possessions on the territory of the Eastern Empire in order to support their power there. The result of this, of course, was to delay the struggle against the Muslims in the Holy Land.

Internal affairs under the Comneni and Angeli.

Ecclesiastical relations.

The ecclesiastical life of Byzantium under the Comneni and Angeli is important mainly in two directions: first, in internal ecclesiastical relations which centered in the attempts to resolve certain religious problems and doubts which agitated Byzantine society and were of the most vital interest in that epoch; secondly, in the relations of the eastern church to the western, of the patriarchate of Constantinople to the papacy.

In their attitude to the Church the emperors of the dynasties of the Comneni and Angeli firmly adopted the caesaropapistic view which was so very characteristic of Byzantium. In one version of the History of Nicetas Choniates Isaac Angelus is quoted:

“On earth there is no difference in power between God and emperor; kings are allowed to do everything, and they may use without any distinction that which belongs to God along with their own possessions, because they have received the imperial power from God, and between God and them is no difference.” The same writer, speaking of the ecclesiastical policy of Manuel Comnenus, gave the general belief of the Byzantine emperors, who consider themselves “the infallible judges of matters of God and man.”

This opinion was supported in the second half of the twelfth century by the clergy. A celebrated Greek canonist and commentator of the so-called pseudo-Photian Nomocanon (a canonical collection of fourteen titles), the patriarch of Antioch, Theodore Balsamon, who lived under the last Comnenus and the first Angelus, wrote:

“The emperors and patriarchs must be esteemed as church teachers because of their holy anointment. Therefore, orthodox emperors have the power to teach Christian people and, like priests, to burn incense as an act of worship to God.” Their glory is that, like the sun, they, by the brilliance of their orthodoxy, enlighten the world from one end to another. “The power and activities of the emperors concern body and soul (of man) while the power and activity of the patriarch concern only soul.” The same author stated: “The Emperor is subject neither to the laws nor to the canons.”

Ecclesiastical life under the Comneni and Angeli enabled the Emperors to apply widely their caesaropapistic ideas: on the one hand, numerous “heresies” and “false doctrines” considerably agitated the minds of the population. On the other hand, the menace from the Turks and Patzinaks, and the new relations between the Empire and the West resulting from the crusades, began to threaten the very existence of Byzantium as an independent state, and forced the Emperors to consider deeply and ponder seriously the problem of union with the Catholic church, which in the person of the pope, could prevent the political danger threatening the East from the West.

As regards religion, the first two Comneni were in general the defenders of the Eastern Orthodox faith and church; nevertheless, under the pressure of political reasons, they made some concessions in favor of the Catholic church. Alexius Comnenus’ daughter, Anna, struck by the activity of her father, in her “Alexiad” calls him, doubtless with exaggeration, “the thirteenth Apostle;” or, if this honor must belong to Constantine the Great, Alexius Comnenus must “be set either side by side with the Emperor Constantine or, if any one objects to that, next to Constantine.” The third Comnenus, Manuel, inflicted great harm upon the interests of the eastern church for the sake of his illusive western policy.

In the internal church life of the Empire the chief attention of the emperors was directed to the struggle with dogmatic errors and heretic movements of their time. One side of the ecclesiastical life alarmed the emperors, the excessive growth of ecclesiastic and monastic property, against which the government, from time to time, had taken adequate measures.

In order to provide funds for state defense and the compensation of his

supporters, Alexius Comnenus confiscated some monastic estates and converted several sacred vessels into money. But to appease the discontent which this measure aroused, the Emperor returned to the churches an amount equal to the value of the vessels and condemned his own action by a special Novel, “On abstaining from using the sacred vessels for public needs.” Manuel by restoring the abrogated Novel of Nicephorus Phocas (964) again limited the increase of the church and monastic property; but later he was forced by means of other Novels, as far as possible, to modify the harsh consequences of this decree.

Disorders and moral decline among the clergy also alarmed Alexius Comnenus, who, in one of his novels, declared, “The Christian faith is exposed to danger, for the clergy with every day becomes worse;” he planned some measures for raising the moral standard of the clergy by ameliorating their life according to the canonic rules, by improving their education, by widely developing pastoral activity, and so on. But unfortunately because of the general conditions of that time he did not always succeed in carrying out his good beginnings.

Though they sometimes declared themselves against the excessive increase of church property, the Comneni, at the same time, were often the protectors and founders of monasteries. Under Alexius Mount Athos was declared by the Emperor exempt forever from taxes and other vexations; “the civil officials had nothing to do with the Holy Mountain.” As before, Athos was not dependent on any bishop; the protos, that is, the chairman of the council of the igumens (abbots, priors) of the monasteries of Athos, was ordained by the Emperor himself, so that Athos was directly dependent on him. Under Manuel the Russians who had formerly lived on Mount Athos and possessed there a small monastery received, by the order of the protaton (the council of the igumens), the convent of St. Panteleimon, which is widely known even today.

Alexius Comnenus also supported St. Christodulus in founding in the island of Patmos, where, according to tradition, the Apostle John wrote his Apocalypse, a monastery of that Saint, which still exists today. In the chrysobull published on that matter the Emperor granted this island to Christodulus as his permanent and inalienable property, exempted it from all taxes, and prohibited any officials from appearing in the island. The strictest regime was introduced into the life of the monastery. Chalandon says, “the island of Patmos became a small ecclesiastical and almost independent republic where only monks could live.” The attacks of the Seljuqs on the islands of the Archipelago forced Christodulus and the monks to leave Patmos and take refuge in Euboea, where Christodulus died at the end of the eleventh century.

Christodulus’ reforms did not survive him, and his attempt in Patmos completely failed.

John Comnenus built in Constantinople the monastery of the Pantokrator

(Almighty) and instituted there a very well-organized hospital for the poor with fifty beds. The internal arrangement of this hospital is described in much detail in the statute (typicon) issued by the Emperor in this connection and is an example, “perhaps the most touching that history has preserved, concerning humanitarian ideas in Byzantine society.”

The intellectual life of the epoch of the Comneni was distinguished by intense activity. Some scholars even call this period the epoch of the Hellenic renaissance which was brought about by such eminent men of the Empire as, for example, Michael Psellus. This intellectual revival expressed itself under the Comneni in various ways, including the formation of different heretical doctrines and dogmatic errors, with which the Emperors, as protectors of the Orthodox faith, had to come into collision.

This feature of the epoch of the Comneni influenced the so-called Synodicon, that is, the list of heretical names and antichurch doctrines which is still read every year in the Eastern Orthodox church during the first week of Lent, when an anathema is pronounced against heretics and antichurch doctrines in general; and a considerable number of the anathematized names and doctrines in the Synodicon were originated in the time of Alexius and Manuel Comnenius.

The chief energies of Alexius were directed against the Paulicians and Bogomiles who had been established for a long time in the Balkan peninsula, especially in the district of Philippopolis. But neither persecution of the heretics nor public disputes organized by the Emperor nor the burning of the head of the Bogomilian doctrine, the monk Basil, could eradicate their doctrines, which, without spreading very widely throughout the Empire, nevertheless continued to exist. Then the Emperor appealed to the monk Euthymius Zigabenus, a man skilled in grammatical knowledge and rhetoric, a commentator of the books of the New Testament and the Epistles of St. Paul, asking him to expose all existing heretical doctrines, especially the Bogomile doctrine, and to refute them on the basis of the Church Fathers. In accordance with the Emperor’s desire Zigabenus drew up a treatise The Dogmatic Panoply of the Orthodox Faith which, containing all the scientific proofs fitted to refute the arguments of the heretics and to show their emptiness, was to serve as a manual for the struggle with heretical errors. In spite of this, however, under Manuel occurred the famous case of the monk Niphon who preached the Bogomile doctrine.

Among the other events in the intellectual life of Byzantium under Alexius Comnenus was the case of a learned philosopher, John Italus (coming from Italy), a pupil of Michael Psellus, who was accused of suggesting “to his hearers the perverted theories and heretical doctrines condemned by the Church and opposed to the Scriptures and tradition of the Fathers of the Church, of not honouring sacred images,”

and so on. The official report on the accusation of John Italus of heresy, published and interpreted by a Russian scholar, Th. Uspensky, opens an interesting page in the intellectual life of the epoch of the first Comnenus. At the council which examined the case of Italus there was on trial not only a heretic preaching a doctrine dangerous to the Church, but also a professor of the high school teaching people of mature age who was himself influenced by the ideas of Aristotle, Plato in part, and other philosophers.

Some of his disciples were also summoned to court. After having examined Italus’

opinions the council declared them misleading and heretical. The patriarch to whom Italus was delivered for instruction in truth became himself, to the great scandal of the church and population, an adherent to Italus’ doctrine. By order of the Emperor a list of Italus’ errors was then drawn up. Finally, anathema was pronounced against the eleven items of his doctrine and against the heretic himself.

As not all the works of Italus are published, it is impossible to form a fixed opinion about him and his doctrine. There is, therefore, some disagreement among scholars on this problem. While, as Th. Uspensky said, “the freedom of philosophical thought was limited by the supreme authority of the Scriptures and the works of the Fathers of the Church,” Italus, as some investigators, Bezobrazov and Bryanzev, for example, state, “judged it possible, in some problems, to give the preference to pagan philosophy over church doctrine;” he “separated the domain of theology from that of philosophy, and admitted the possibility of holding independent opinions in one or the other domain.” Finally, in connection with the case of Italus, N. Marr raised “the most important question of whether the initiators of the trial of Italus were on his level in intellectual development, demanding the separation of philosophy from theology, and whether, having condemned the thinker for intrusion upon theology, they granted him his freedom in purely philosophical speculation?” Of course, the answer is no: at that time such freedom was impossible. But Italus is not to be considered only as a theologian. “He was a philosopher who was condemned because his philosophical system did not conform to the doctrine of the Church;” and the most recent investigator of the religious life of the epoch of the Comneni said that all the information clearly shows that Italus belonged to the Neoplatonic school. All the discrepancy and difference in opinion show how interesting is the problem of John Italus from the point of view of the cultural history of Byzantium at the end of the eleventh and the beginning of the twelfth century.

But this is not all. Attention has been paid to the doctrines which appeared in western European philosophy in the lifetime of John Italus and resembled the doctrines of the latter; for example, such a resemblance is to be found in the doctrine of Abelard, a famous French scholar and professor of the first half of the twelfth century, whose autobiography, Historia calamitatum, is still read with intense interest. In view of the complicated and insufficiently investigated problem of mutual cultural influences between the East and West in this epoch, it may be too sweeping a statement to say that the western European scholasticism depended on that of Byzantium; but it may be affirmed that “the circle of ideas in which the European mind was working from the eleventh to the thirteenth century was the same that we find in Byzantium.”

In external ecclesiastical affairs the time of the first three Comneni was an epoch of active relations with the popes and the western church. The chief cause of those relations, as the appeal of the Emperor Michael VII Parapinakes to Pope Gregory VII showed, was the danger threatening Byzantium from her external enemies, the Turks and Patzinaks. This danger compelled the emperors to seek for aid in the West, even at the price of the union of the churches. Therefore, the tendency of the Comneni to conclude a union with the Roman Church is explained by purely external political reasons.

In the most terrible years, that is, at the end of the eighties and the beginning of the nineties of the eleventh century, Alexius Comnenus held out the hand of reconciliation and agreement to Pope Urban II, promising to summon a Council in Constantinople in order to discuss the question of the azyms and other subjects which separated the two churches. In 1089 a synod of the Greek bishops, with Alexius I presiding, took place in Constantinople. At this synod was discussed the motion of Urban II to put his name again into the diptychs and to mention him in divine services, and under the pressure of the Emperor this delicate problem was decided in the affirmative. Probably to this time is to be referred a treatise of Theophylact of Bulgaria, On the Errors of the Latins, in which V. Vasilievsky saw a sign of the times. The main theme of the treatise is very remarkable. The author did not adopt the common view of the definite separation of the churches; neither did he acknowledge the errors of the Latins to be so numerous as to make separation unavoidable; he expresses himself against the spirit of theological intolerance and haughtiness which was predominant among his learned contemporaries. In a word, Theophylact in many points was ready to grant reasonable concessions. But in the symbol of the Creed no ambiguity could be admitted, no addition; in other words, it was impossible to adopt filioque in the eastern symbol.

But the critical situation of the Empire and some difficulties which befell Pope Urban II in Rome, where an antipope had been elected, prevented the summoning of the council. The First Crusade, which took place some years later, and the hostilities and mutual distrust which arose between the Greeks and crusaders were unfavorable to an understanding between the two churches. Under John Comnenus negotiations were carried on concerning the union between the Emperor and Popes Calixtus II and Honorius II; two letters exist addressed by John to these popes. Papal envoys arrived in Constantinople with full powers to treat the question. But they failed to arrive at any tangible result. On the other hand, some learned Latins from the West took part in theological disputations at Constantinople. A German, Anselm of Havelberg, who wrote about 1150, left a very interesting account of a disputation held before John Comnenus in 1136, at which “there were present not a few Latins, among them three wise men skilled in the two languages and most learned in letters, namely James, a Venetian, Burgundio, a Pisan, and the third, most famous among Greeks and Latins above all others for his knowledge of both literatures, Moses by name, an Italian from the city of Bergamo, and he was chosen by all to be a faithful interpreter for both sides.”

Relations became more active under John’s latinophile successor, Manuel I. The latter, hopeful of the restoration of the single Roman Empire, and convinced that he could receive the imperial crown only from Rome, offered the pope the prospect of union. It is obvious, accordingly, that the cause of the negotiations for union was purely political. The German historian Norden rightly remarked, “The Comneni were hoping with the help of the papacy to rise to dominion over the west and thereupon over the papacy itself; the Popes were dreaming with the support of the Comneni of becoming the masters of the Byzantine church and thereupon of the Byzantine Empire.”

After the Second Crusade Manuel corresponded with several popes. The popes themselves also were sometimes ready to lend a friendly hand to the Emperor, especially Pope Hadrian IV, who was engaged in a quarrel with the king of Sicily and was angry with the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, who had been recently crowned. In his message to the archbishop of Thessalonica, Basil, Hadrian IV expressed his desire

“to help in bringing all the brethren into one church” and compared the eastern church with lost drachma, wandering sheep, and the dead Lazarus.

Shortly after, Manuel through his envoy officially promised Pope Alexander III the union of the churches, provided the pope would return to him the crown of the Roman Empire which was then, against all rights, in the hands of the German king, Frederick; if, for that purpose, the pope needed money or military forces, Manuel would supply him with troops in abundance. But Alexander III, whose situation in Italy had somewhat improved, refused this offer.

A council was summoned by the Emperor in the capital to put an end to the various causes of discontent existing between the Latins and Greeks, and to find some means for joining the churches. Manuel exerted himself to the utmost to incline the patriarch to concessions. “A Conversation” at the council between Manuel and the patriarch, is a very interesting document for the light it throws on the views of the two chief participants in the council. In this “Conversation” the patriarch says that the pope is “reeking with impiety,” and prefers the yoke of the “Agarens” [i.e.

Muhammedans] to that of the Latins. This statement of the patriarch, apparently reflecting the ecclesiastical and public feeling of the epoch, was to be many times repeated in the future, for example, in the fifteenth century, at the time of the fall of Byzantium. Manuel was forced to yield and declared that he would withdraw from the Latins “as from the serpent’s poison.” Thus all the discussions at the council failed to produce any agreement. It was even decided to break off entirely with the pope and his partisans.

Thus Manuel, both in his secular external policy and in his ecclesiastical policy, was wholly unsuccessful. The cause of this failure may be explained by the fact that the Emperor’s policy in both fields was only his own personal policy and had no solid and real basis in public opinion. The restoration of the one Empire had already for a long time been impossible and the unitarian tendencies of Manuel met with no sympathy in the masses of the Empire’s population.

In the last five years of the rule of the Comneni (1180-85), especially under Andronicus I, the ecclesiastical causes were absorbed in the complicated external and internal conditions. Andronicus, an enemy of the Latin sympathies of his predecessor at the beginning of his reign, could not be a partisan of the union with the western church. In internal ecclesiastical affairs, he dealt harshly with the patriarch of Constantinople and allowed no disputes on faith. “A Dialogue against the Jews,” which is often ascribed to him, belongs to a later time.

The time of the Angeli, politically full of troubles, was equally disturbed in ecclesiastical life. The emperors of this house felt themselves to be masters of the situation. The first Angelus, Isaac, deposed at his leisure the patriarchs of Constantinople, one after another.

Under the Angeli the vigorous theological dispute of the Eucharist arose in Byzantinum; the Emperor himself took part in it. A historian of that epoch, Nicetas Choniates, said the question was “whether the body of Christ, of which we partake, is as incorruptible (αφθαρτον) as it became after His passion and resurrection, or corruptible (φθαρτον), as it was before his passion.” In other words, in this dispute the question was “whether the eucharist of which we partake, is subject to the common physiological processes to which any food that man takes is subject, or not subject to those physiological processes.” Alexius Angelus stood as the protector of “the insolently denied” truth and supported the doctrine of the “incorruptibility” of the Eucharist. A similar dispute in Byzantium at the end of the twelfth century can be explained by western influence, which was very strong in the Christian East in the epoch of the crusades. As is known, such disputes had begun in the West a long time before; even in the ninth century there had been men who taught that the Eucharist is subject to the same processes as ordinary food.

As far as the relations of the Angeli to the pope are concerned, the pope was guided by political expediency, desiring, of course, to induce the eastern church to adopt union. The pope’s plan failed. The complicated international situation, especially just before the Fourth Crusade, brought forward the king of Germany, who seemed to take an important part in the solution of the Byzantine problem. As the king of Germany was the most dangerous foe of the papacy, the pope, in order to prevent the western Emperor from getting possession of the Eastern Empire, endeavored by all means to support the “schismatic” eastern Emperor, even a usurper such as Alexius III who had dethroned his brother Isaac. Innocent III was in a rather embarrassing position during the Fourth Crusade, when the head of the Catholic church, at first acting very energetically against the diversion of the crusade, was gradually forced to change his mind and to declare the compliance of God with the sack of Constantinople by the crusaders, almost unexampled in barbarity as it was.

In summary, religious life under the Comneni and Angeli, a period of one hundred and twenty-three years (1081-1204), was marked by extraordinary intensity and animation in external relations and especially by conflicting and contradictory internal movements-Without doubt, from the point of view of religious problems this epoch is of great importance and of vivid interest.

Internal administration.

Financial and social conditions. — As a general thesis one may say that the internal situation of the Byzantine Empire and the administrative system changed little in the course of the twelfth century. Whereas the history of the Byzantine church under the Comneni and Angeli has been more or less fully investigated, conditions are quite different for internal social and economic life. And if the internal history of Byzantium has been inadequately investigated, there is a particular lack of thorough research in the period beginning with the epoch of the Comneni. Even today histories usually offer on this subject short chapters, based sometimes only on general speculations, some occasional remarks or excursus, or at the very best, small articles on one problem or another, so that, at least for the present, there is no adequate conception of the internal history of this epoch. The most recent investigator of this period, the French scholar Chalandon, died before he could publish the promised continuation of his book in which the problem of the internal life of Byzantium in the twelfth century was to have been fully discussed.

A representative of the large landowning nobility of Asia Minor, Alexius Comnenus, became Emperor of a state in which the financial system was entirely disorganized both by numerous military enterprises and by internal troubles of an earlier period. In spite of the crippled financial condition, Alexius, especially in the beginning years of his rule, had to remunerate his partisans, who had supported him in gaining the throne, and to present the members of his family with rich gifts. Fierce wars with the Turks, Patzinaks, and Normans, and the events connected with the First Crusade also required enormous expenditures. The estates of large landowners and of monasteries served as a means for replenishing the treasury.

As far as one can judge from the fragmentary information of the sources, Alexius had no scruples in confiscating the property of large landowners; even in the case of political plots capital punishment was often replaced by confiscation of land. The lands of the monasteries, which were given as grants (in Greek kharistikia) for life to recipients who were thence called kharistikarioi, were exposed to similar confiscation.

The system of kharistikia was not invented by the Comneni, but because of their financial difficulties, they perhaps resorted to it more frequently than anyone else. The system is connected with the secularization of the monastic estates under the iconoclastic emperors and probably with some phenomena of the social life of a still earlier time. In the tenth and eleventh centuries the system of kharistikia was already in frequent use. Monasteries were granted both to ecclesiastics and laymen, even to women, and it happened sometimes that monasteries for men were granted to women, and those for women to men. The kharistikarios was expected to defend the interests of the monastery granted to him, to watch over it in order to secure it from the caprice of the governor or tax gatherers and from illegal taxes, and to manage skillfully monastic economy, converting to his own benefit the revenues which remained after he had fulfilled his obligations. Of course, in reality he neglected his duties, and the monastic donations in general were nothing but a source of revenue and profit. Accordingly monastic economy was growing weak and declining. The kharistikia were very profitable for the receivers, and the Byzantine high officials sought for them eagerly.

The ordinance of Alexius which provided for the conversion of some sacred vessels into money was later abrogated by him.

But confiscations of land were insufficient to improve the finances. Then Alexius Comnenus resorted to perhaps his worst financial measure, the corruption of money, the issue of debased coin, for which sources blame Alexius heavily. Along with the former golden coins of full weight, which were called nomisma, hyperpyrus, or solidus, he had put into circulation a certain alloy of copper and gold or silver and gold called nomisma which was circulated on a par with the full coin. The new nomisma as compared to the former, which consisted of twelve silver coins or miliarisia, was equal in value only to four silver coins, one-third as much. But Alexius insisted that taxes be paid in money of full weight. Such measures brought still greater confusion into the finances of the Empire and irritated the population.

The difficult external situation and almost complete financial bankruptcy of the country, despite the measures taken, forced the government to collect the taxes with extreme severity; and as many large estates, secular as well as ecclesiastic, were exempt from taxes, the whole burden of taxation fell upon the lower classes who were completely exhausted under the unbearable pressure of fiscal exactions. The tax-collectors, who are called by a writer of the eleventh and the early twelfth century, the archbishop of Bulgaria, Theophylact, “rather robbers than collectors, despising both divine laws and imperial ordinances,” were running wild among the people.

The cautious rule of John Comnenus somewhat improved the state finances, in spite of almost continuous wars. But the rule of his successor Manuel put the country again on the verge of bankruptcy. At this time the population of the Empire decreased, and consequently the ability of the population to pay taxes also decreased. Some districts of Asia Minor were abandoned because of Muhammedan invasions; a portion of their population was captured, another part escaped in flight to the maritime cities.

The abandoned territories could not, of course, pay taxes. The situation was similar in the Balkan peninsula owing to the aggressions of the Hungarians, Serbs, and the peoples beyond the Danube.

Meanwhile expenses were increasing. Besides the expenses of military

enterprises, Manuel squandered enormous amounts of money on a mass of foreigners who had come to Byzantium because of the Emperor’s Latin sympathies; at the same time he required money for buildings, for sustaining the absurd luxury at his court, and for supporting his favorites, both men and women.

The historian Nicetas Choniates drew a striking picture of universal discontent with the financial policy of Manuel. The Greeks of the islands of the Ionian sea, unable to endure the burden of taxation, passed over to the Normans. Like Alexius Comnenus, Manuel tried to improve his finances by means of confiscation of the secular and ecclesiastic estates, and restored the famous Novel of Nicephorus Phocas, of 964, concerning church and monastic landownership.

Only in the reign of the last Comnenus, Andronicus I, whose short rule was marked by a reaction against Manuel’s policy, did the situation of the taxable classes improve. Andronicus is known to have come out as protector of the national interests and the lower classes against Manuel’s latinophile policy and support of the large landowners. Large landowners and tax collectors were brought sharply to account; provincial governors began to receive high salaries from the treasury; the sale of public offices ceased. A historian contemporary with Andronicus, Nicetas Choniates painted this idyllic picture:

Everyone, to quote a Prophet, lay quietly in the shade of his trees and having gathered grapes and the fruits of the earth ate them joyfully and slept comfortably, without fearing the tax collector’s menace, without thinking of the rapacious or insatiable exactor of duties, without looking askance at the gleaner in his vineyard or being suspicious of the gatherer of cornstalks; but he who rendered unto Caesar those things which are Caesar’s, of him no more was required; he was not deprived, as he used to be, of his last garment, and he was not reduced to the point of death, as formerly was often the case.

The Byzantine sources give a sad picture of the internal life of the country under Manuel, and conditions could not, of course, improve greatly in the short and stormy reign of Andronicus. But the Jewish traveler, Benjamin, from the Spanish city of Tudela, who visited Byzantium in the eighth decade of the twelfth century, i.e. under Manuel, gave in the description of his journey some glowing praise of Constantinople as a result of his personal observation and oral communications. Benjamin wrote concerning Constantinople:

From every part of the Empire of Greece tribute is brought here every year, and strongholds are filled with garments of silk, purple, and gold. Like unto these storehouses and this wealth, there is nothing in the whole world to be found. It is said that the tribute of the city amounts every year to 20,000 gold pieces, derived both from the rents of shops and markets, and from the tribute of merchants who enter by sea or land. The Greek inhabitants are very rich in gold and precious stones, and they go clothed in garments of silk with gold embroidery, and they ride horses, and look like princes. Indeed, the land is very rich in all cloth stuffs, and in bread, meat, and wine.

Wealth like that of Constantinople is not to be found in the whole world. Here also are men learned in all the books of the Greeks, and they eat and drink every man under his vine and his fig tree.

In another place the same traveler says: “All sorts of merchants come here from the land of Babylon, from the land of Shinar (Mesopotamia), from Persia, Media, and all the sovereignty of the land of Egypt, from the land of Canaan, and the empire of Russia, from Hungaria, Patzinakia, Khazaria, and the land of Lombardy and Sepharad (Spain). It is a busy city, and merchants come to it from every country by sea and land, and there is none like it in the world except Bagdad, the great city of Islam.” Under Manuel also, an Arabian traveler, al-Harawy (or el-Herewy) visited Constantinople, where he was well received by the Emperor; in his book he gave a description of the most important monuments of the capital and remarked: “Constantinople is a city larger than its renown proclaims. May God, in His grace and generosity, deign to make of it the capital of Islam!” Perhaps one should compare the description of Benjamin of Tudela, with some verses of John Tzetzes, a poet of the epoch of the Comneni, relating also to Constantinople. Parodying two Homeric verses of the Iliad (IV, 437-38) “For they (the Trojans) had not all like speech nor one language, but their tongues were mingled, and they were brought from many lands,” John Tzetzes said, not without bitterness and irritation: “The men are very thievish who dwell in the capital of Constantine; they belong neither to one language nor to one people; there are minglings of strange tongues and there are very thievish men, Cretans and Turks, Alans, Rhodians and Chians (of the island of Chios), all of them being very thievish and corrupt are considered as saints in Constantinople.” The brilliant and bustling life of Constantinople under Manuel reminded A. Andreades of the life of certain capitals such as Paris in the last years of the Empire, on the eve of the catastrophe.

It is difficult to say exactly what was the population of the capital at that time.

But perhaps, as a mere conjecture, the population of Constantinople towards the end of the twelfth century may be computed at between 800,000 and 1,000,000.

In connection with the increase of large estates under the Comneni and Angeli, the landowners were steadily gaining in strength and power and becoming less dependent on the central government; feudal processes were sweepingly developing in the Empire. Referring to the epoch of the two last Comneni and Isaac II Angelus, Cognasso, wrote: “Feudalism covers thenceforth the whole Empire, and the Emperor must contend with grand provincial landlords who do not always consent to provide soldiers with the generosity shown, for example, for the struggle against the Normans … As the equilibrium between the elements which formed the social and political platform of the Empire was broken, the aristocracy obtained the upper hand, and finally the Empire came under its power. The monarchy is deprived of its power and wealth in favor of the aristocracy.” The Empire was hastening to its ruin.

To the time of Manuel belongs a very interesting chrysobull which prohibited the transference to any but officials of senatorial or military rank of the immovable property granted by the Emperor; if, none the less, a transference had taken place contrary to this regulation, the immovable property was to go to the treasury. This prohibition of Manuel, depriving the lower classes of the chance of possessing imperial land grants, made the aristocracy master of immense territories. This chrysobull was abrogated in December, 1182, by Alexius II Comnenus. The abrogation was signed by the latter; but, without doubt, it was drawn up under the pressure of the all-powerful regent, Andronicus. From 1182 on the imperial grants in immovable properties might be transmitted to anyone regardless of his social rank.

The chrysobull of 1182 must be interpreted in connection with the new policy of Andronicus towards the Byzantine aristocracy and large landowners, against whom he had to open a stubborn struggle. Alexius II Comnenus, who signed the law, was the mere mouthpiece of Andronicus’ will. Therefore doubt is cast upon the opinion of some scholars who think that as Manuel’s prohibition had clearly been aimed at the Franks and should have hindered the land purchases of those foreign traders, so the abrogation of the prohibition was an act friendly to the Franks and entirely corresponded with the policy of Alexius II Comnenus. True, the government of Alexius II, who was a child, and of his mother, had sought for the support of the hated Latin elements, but after Andronicus had entered Constantinople and been proclaimed regent, circumstances changed; the government fell into his hands, and towards the end of 1182 his policy was already openly hostile to the Latins.

Defense and commerce. — Because of almost permanent hostilities in the epoch of the Comneni, the army cost the state enormous sums of money, and the Comneni took care of the restoration and strengthening of their army. The army consisted of a great number of mercenaries of the most various nationalities besides the local elements supplied by the themes. Under the Comneni there was a new national element in the army — the Anglo-Saxon.

The cause of the appearance of the Anglo-Saxons in Byzantium was the conquest of England by the Normans under William the Conqueror in 1066, when the catastrophe which had burst upon England after the battle of Senlac, a few miles north of Hastings, delivered the country into the hands of the severe conqueror. Attempts at insurrection on the part of the Anglo-Saxons against the new ruler were severely quelled by executions and extinguished in streams of blood. Many Anglo-Saxons, in despair, abandoned their fatherland. In the eighties of the eleventh century, at the beginning of the rule of Alexius Comnenus, as the English historian Freeman emphasized in his very well-known work on the conquest of England by the Normans, some convincing indications of the Anglo-Saxon emigration into the Greek Empire were already evident.

A western chronicler of the first half of the twelfth century wrote: “After having lost their liberty the Anglians were deeply afflicted … Some of them shining with the blossom of beautiful youth went to distant countries and boldly offered themselves for the military service of the Constantinopolitan Emperor Alexius.” This was the beginning of the “Varangian-English bodyguard” which, in the history of Byzantium of the twelfth century, played an important part, such as the “Varangian-Russian Druzhina” (Company) had played in the tenth and eleventh centuries. Apparently, there never was such a great number of mercenary foreign troops in Byzantium as during the latinophile rule of Manuel.

As far as the navy was concerned, the maritime forces which had been well organized by Alexius seem gradually to have been losing their fighting power, so that under Manuel they were in a state of decline. Nicetas Choniates, in his history, sharply condemned Manuel for the destruction of the maritime power of the Empire. Under the Comneni, the Venetian vessels which had made an alliance with the Empire helped Byzantium a great deal, but, of course, at the expense of Byzantine economic independence.

Manuel restored and fortified some places which were in a state of decay. He fortified a very important city and stronghold, Attalia (Satalia), on the southern shore of Asia Minor. He also erected fortifications and constructed a bridge at Abydos, at the entrance into the Hellespont, where one of the most important Byzantine

customhouses was located and where, from the time of the Comneni, the Venetians and their rivals, Genoese and Pisans, had their residences.

Provincial administration under the Comneni has not yet been satisfactorily investigated. It is known that in the eleventh century the number of themes reached thirty-eight. The reduction of the territory of the Empire in the eleventh and twelfth centuries made it impossible for the boundaries of the provinces and their number to remain the same. Information on this problem can be drawn from the Novel of Alexius III Angelus, of Nov. 1198 where the trade privileges granted Venice by the Emperor are discussed and where are enumerated “by names all the provinces that were under the power of Romania and where (the Venetians) could conduct their trade business.” The list given in this Novel, a source which has not yet been adequately studied, gives an approximate idea of the changes which took place in the provincial division of the Empire in the course of the twelfth century.

Most of the former themes had been governed by military governors or strategi.

Later, especially after the battle of Manzikert in 1071, and then in the course of the twelfth century in connection with the growing Turkish danger in Asia Minor and with the secession of Bulgaria in 1186, the territory of the Empire was considerably reduced.

Owing to the reduction of territory, the very important title of strategus given to the governor general of the themes towards the end of the eleventh century fell into disuse. Under the Comneni the title of strategus entirely disappeared, because it became inappropriate to the smaller size of the provinces, and it was gradually replaced by dux, a title which had been already borne, in the ninth century and earlier, by the governors of some small provinces.

In the commercial situation of the Empire under the Comnent and Angeli an exceedingly important change took place as a result of the crusades: the West and East began to engage in direct commercial relations with each other and Byzantium lost the role of intermediate commercial agent between them. It was a severe blow to the international economic power of the Eastern Empire. Then in the capital itself, as in some other places, Venice had already gained a strong footing at the beginning of the reign of Alexius Comnenus. Under the same emperor the Pisans obtained very important commercial privileges at Constantinople; they received there a landing place (scala) and a special quarter with stores for their merchandise and private houses; reserved seats were guaranteed to the Pisans at St. Sophia during divine service and in the Hippodrome for public spectacles. Towards the end of the reign of John Comnenus the Genoese opened negotiations for the first time with Byzantium, and it is certain that the main cause of these negotiations related to commercial questions. Manuel’s policy was always closely connected with the commercial interests of Venice, Pisa, and Genoa, who, undermining the economic power of the Empire, were, in their turn, in a state of permanent commercial competition. In 1169 Genoa received exceptionally advantageous trade privileges all over the Empire, except in two places on the northern shores of the Black and Azov Sea.

After the terrible massacre of the Latins in 1182 their position became again more favorable under the Angeli; and finally in November 1198 a chrysobull was reluctantly granted by Alexius III Angelus to Venice, reciting and confirming the previous bull of Isaac Angelus regarding the defensive alliance with Venice, renewing the trading privileges and adding a number of new provisions. The boundaries of the Venetian quarter remained unchanged. According to one writer, some clauses of this treaty exerted very great influence upon the institution of consular jurisdiction in the Ottoman Empire.

Not only in the capital, but also in many provincial cities and islands of the Empire, the Venetians, Pisans, and Genoese took full advantage of their trading privileges and held quarters of their own. Thessalonica (Salonica) was, after Constantinople, the most important economic center of the Empire. There, as a source of the twelfth century testified, every year at the end of October, on the occasion of the feast of St. Demetrius, the patron of the city, a famous fair was held; and at that time Greeks and Slavs, Italians, Spaniards (Iberians) and Portuguese (Lusitanians), “Celts from beyond the Alps” (French), and men who came from the distant shores of the Atlantic, swarmed to Thessalonica and carried on their business transactions. Thebes, Corinth, and Patras in Greece were famous for their silks. Hadrianople and Philippopolis, in the Balkan peninsula, were also very important commercial centers.

The islands of the Aegean also took part in the industry and commerce of that time.

As the fatal year 1204 approached, the commercial importance of Byzantium was thoroughly undermined by the commercial efficiency and initiative of the Italian republics, Venice, Genoa, and Pisa. Venice occupied the first place. The monarchy lost, as the Italian historian, Cognasso, said, “its power and wealth in favor of the aristocracy, just as it is forced to lose its numerous other rights in favor of the commercial cosmopolitan class of the great cities of the Empire.”

Education, learning, literature, and art.

The time of the Macedonian dynasty was marked by intense cultural activity in the field of learning, literature, education, and art. The activity of such men as Photius in the ninth century, Constantine Porphyrogenitus in the tenth, and Michael Psellus in the eleventh, with their cultural environment, as well as the revival of the High School of Constantinople, which was reformed in the eleventh century, created favorable conditions for the cultural renaissance of the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli.

Enthusiasm for ancient literature was a distinctive feature of the time. Hesiod, Homer, Plato, the historians Thucydides and Polybius, the orators Isocrates and Demosthenes, the Greek tragedians and Aristophanes and other eminent representatives of various sections of ancient literature were studied and imitated by the writers of the twelfth century and the beginning of the thirteenth. This imitation was particularly evident in the language, which, in its excessive tendency towards the purity of the ancient Attic dialect, became artificial, grandiloquent, sometimes hard to read and difficult to understand, entirely different from the living spoken tongue. It was the literature of men who, as the English scholar Bury said, “were the slaves of tradition; it was a bondage to noble masters, but still it was a bondage.” But some writers expert in the beauty of the classic tongue nevertheless did not neglect the popular spoken language of their time and left very interesting specimens of the living tongue of the twelfth century. Writers of the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli understood the superiority of Byzantine culture over that of the western peoples, whom a source called “those dark and wandering tribes the greater part of which, if they did not receive birth from Constantinople, were at least raised and nourished by her, and among whom neither grace nor muse takes shelter,” to whom pleasant singing seems “the cry of vultures or croak of crow.”

In the field of literature this epoch has a great number of interesting and eminent writers in both ecclesiastic and secular circles. The cultural movement also affected the family of the Comneni themselves, among whom many members, yielding to the influence of their environment, devoted a part of their time to learning and literature. The highly educated and clever mother of Alexius I Comnenus, Anna Dalassena, whom her learned granddaughter Anna Comnena calls “this greatest pride not only of women but also of men, and ornament of human nature,” often came to a dinner party with a book in her hands and there discussed dogmatic problems of the Church Fathers and spoke of the philosopher and martyr Maxim in particular. The Emperor Alexius Comnenus himself wrote some theological treatises against heretics; Alexius’ Muses, written a short time before his death, were published in 1913. They were written in iambic meter in the form of an “exhortation” and dedicated to his son and heir John. These Muses were a kind of political will, concerned not only with abstract problems of morality, but also with many contemporary historical events, such as the First Crusade.

Alexius’ daughter Anna and her husband Nicephorus Bryennius occupy an

honorable place in Byzantine historiography. Nicephorus Bryennius, who survived Alexius and played an important role in state affairs under him and his son John, intended to write a history of Alexius Comnenus. Death prevented Nicephorus from carrying out his plan, but he succeeded in composing a sort of family chronicle or memoir the purpose of which was to show the causes of the elevation of the house of the Comneni and which was brought almost down to the accession of Alexius to the throne. The detailed narrative of Bryennius discusses the events from 1070 to 1079, that is to say, to the beginning of the rule of Nicephorus III Botaniates; since he discussed the activities of the members of the house of the Comneni, his work is marked by some partiality. The style of Bryennius is rather simple and has none of the artificial perfection that is, for example, peculiar to the style of his learned wife. The influence of Xenophon is clearly evident in his work. Bryennius’ work is of great importance both for internal court history and for external policy, and throws special light on the increase of Turkish danger to Byzantium.

The gifted and highly educated wife of Bryennius, the eldest daughter of Emperor Alexius, Anna Comnena, is the authoress of the Alexiad, an epic poem in prose. This first important achievement of the literary renaissance of the epoch of the Comneni is devoted to describing the glorious rule of Anna’s father, “the Great Alexius, the luminary of the universe, the sun of Anna.” One of Anna’s biographers remarked:

“Almost as far down as the nineteenth century a woman as an historian was indeed a rara avis. When therefore a princess arose in one of the most momentous movements in human history she surely deserves the respectful attention of posterity.” In the fifteen books of her great work Anna described the time from 1069 to 1118; she drew a picture of the gradual elevation of the house of the Comneni in the period before the accession of Alexius to the throne and brought the narrative down to his death, thus making an addition to and a continuation of the work of her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius. The tendency to panegyrize her father is evident throughout the whole Alexiad, which endeavors to show to the reader the superiority of Alexius, this

“thirteenth Apostle,” over the other members of the Comneni family. Anna had received an excellent education and had read many of the most eminent writers of antiquity, Homer, the lyric writers, the tragedians, Aristophanes, the historians Thucydides and Polybius, the orators Isocrates and Demosthenes, the philosophers Aristotle and Plato. All this reading affected the style of the Alexiad, in which Anna adopted the external form of the ancient Hellenic tongue and used, as Krumbacher said, an artificial, “almost entirely mummiform school language which is diametrically opposed to the popular spoken language which was used in the literature of that time.”

Anna even apologized to her readers when she chanced to give the barbarian names of the western or Russian (Scythian) leaders, which “deform the loftiness and subject of history.” Despite her unhistortcal partiality for her father, Anna produced a work which is extremely important from the historical point of view, a work based not only upon her personal observation and oral reports, but also upon the documents of the state archives, diplomatic correspondence, and imperial decrees. The Alexiad is one of the most important sources for the First Crusade. Modern scholars acknowledge that

“in spite of all defects, those memoirs of the daughter about her father remain one of the most eminent works of medieval Greek historiography,” and “will always remain the noblest document” of the Greek state regenerated by Alexius Comnenus.

It is not known whether Alexius’ son and successor, John, who spent almost all his life in military expeditions, was in accord with the literary taste of his environment or not.

But his younger brother sebastokrator Isaak was not only an educated man who was fond of literature but was even the author of two small works on the history of the transformation of the Homeric epic in the Middle Ages, as well as of the introduction, to the so-called Constantinopolitan Code of the Octateuch in the Library of Seraglio.

Some investigations suppose that the writings of the sebastokrator Isaac Comnenus were much more various than might be judged from two or three published short texts, and that in him there is a new writer, who arouses interest from various points of view.

The Emperor Manuel, who was fond of astrology, wrote a defense “of astronomic science,” that is to say, of astrology, against the attacks made upon it by the clergy, and in addition he was the author of various theological writings and of public imperial speeches. Because of Manuel’s theological studies, his panegyrist, Eustathius of Thessalonica, calls his rule an “imperial priesthood” or “a kingdom of priests” (Exodus 19:6). Manuel was not only himself interested in literature and theology but he endeavored to interest others. He sent Ptolemy’s famous work, the Almagest, as a present to the king of Sicily and some other manuscripts were brought to Sicily from Manuel’s library at Constantinople. The first Latin version of the Almagest was made from the manuscript at about 1160. Manuel’s sister-in-law Irene distinguished herself by her love for learning and by her literary talent. Her special poet and, probably, teacher, Theodore Prodromus, dedicated to her many verses, and Constantine Manasses composed his chronicle in verse in her honor, calling her in the prologue “a real friend of literature” (φιλολογωτατη). A Dialogue Against the Jews, which is sometimes ascribed to the period of Andronicus I, belongs to a later time.

This brief sketch shows how powerfully the imperial family of the Comneni was imbued with literary interests. But, of course, this phenomenon reflected the general rise of culture which found expression especially in the development of literature and was one of the distinctive features of the epoch of the Comneni. From the time of the Comneni and Angeli, historians and poets, theological writers as well as the writers in various fields of antiquity, and, finally, chroniclers, left works which give evidence of the literary interests of the epoch.

A historian, John Cinnamus, a contemporary of the Comneni, wrote a history of the rule of John and Manuel (1118-76) which was a continuation of Anna Comnena’s work. This history followed the examples of Herodotus and Xenophon, and was also influenced by Procopius. The central figure of the evidently unfinished history is Manuel; it is therefore somewhat eulogistic. Cinnamus was an earnest defender of the rights of the eastern Roman imperial power and a convinced antagonist of the papal claims and of the imperial power of the German kings. He chose as his hero Manuel, who had treated him with favor; nevertheless he gave a trustworthy account based upon the study of reliable sources and written in very good Greek, “in the style of an honest soldier, full of natural and frank enthusiasm for the Emperor.”

Michael and Nicetas Acominati, two brothers from the Phrygian city of Chonae (in Asia Minor), were prominent figures in the literature of the twelfth and the early thirteenth centuries. They are sometimes also surnamed Choniatae after their native city. The elder brother, Michael, who had received an excellent classical education in Constantinople with Eustathius, bishop of Thessalonica, chose a religious career and for more than thirty years was archbishop of Athens. An enthusiastic admirer of Hellenic antiquity, he had his residence in the episcopal building on the Acropolis where in the Middle Ages the cathedral of the Holy Virgin was located within the ancient Parthenon.

Michael felt particularly fortunate to be situated on the Acropolis, where he seemed to reach the “peak of heaven.” His cathedral was to him a constant source of delight and enthusiasm. He looked upon the city and its population as if he were a contemporary of Plato, and he was therefore thoroughly amazed to see the enormous chasm that separated the contemporary population of Athens from the ancient Hellenes. Michael was an idealist and at first was not able to appreciate properly the completed process of ethnographic change in Greece. His idealism clashed with dull reality. He could say: “I live in Athens, but I see Athens nowhere.”

His brilliant inaugural oration delivered before the Athenians assembled in the Parthenon was, he himself asserted, a specimen of simplicity of style. In this speech he reminded the audience of the bygone greatness of the city, the mother of eloquence and wisdom, expressed his firm conviction in the continuous genealogy of the Athenians from ancient times to his day, urged the Athenians to keep to the noble customs and manners of their ancestors, and cited the examples of Aristides, Ajax, Diogenes, Pericles, Themistocles and others. But this oration, in reality constructed in an elevated style, filled with antique and biblical quotations, embellished with metaphors and tropes, remained incomprehensible and dark to the hearers of the new metropolitan; it was beyond the understanding of the Athenians of the twelfth century, and Michael felt it. In one of his later sermons he exclaimed with deep sorrow; “Oh, city of Athens! Mother of wisdom! To what ignorance thou hast sunk! When I addressed you with my inaugural oration, which was very simple and natural, it seemed that I spoke of something inconceivable, in a foreign language, Persian or Scythian.” The learned Michael Acominatus soon ceased to see in the contemporary Athenians the immediate descendants of the ancient Hellenes. He wrote: “There has been preserved the very charm of the country, the Hymettos rich in honey; the still Peiraeus, the once mysterious Eleusis, the Marathonian plain, the Acropolis, — but the generation which loved science has disappeared, and their place has been taken by a generation ignorant and poor in mind and body.” Surrounded by barbarians, Michael feared he himself would grow uncultivated and barbarous; he deplored the corruption of the Greek language, which had become a sort of barbarian dialect and which he was able to understand only after a residence of three years in Athens. It is probable that his jeremiads were not without exaggeration; but he was not far from the truth when he wrote that Athens had been a glorious city but was no longer alive. The very name of Athens would have perished from the memory of men had not its continued existence been secured by the valiant deeds of the past and by famous landmarks, the Acropolis, the Areopagus, Hymettus, and Piraeus, which like some unalterable work of nature were beyond the envy and destruction of time. Michael remained at Athens until the beginning of the thirteenth century. After the conquest of the city by the Franks in 1204 he was forced to give up his seat to a Latin bishop, and he spent the rest of his life in the small island of Ceos, off the shores of Attica, where he died and was buried about 1220 or 1222.

Michael Acominatus left a rich literary inheritance in the form of sermons and speeches on various subjects, as well as a great number of letters and some poetry, which give very valuable information on the political, social, and literary conditions of his time. Among his poems the first place belongs to an iambic elegy in honor of the city of Athens, “the first and also the only lamentation of the ruin of the ancient glorious city that has come down to us.” Gregorovius called Michael Acominatus a ray of sunlight which flashed in the darkness of medieval Athens, “the last great citizen and the last glory of that city of the sage.” Another writer said: “Alien by birth, he so identified himself with his adopted home that we may call him the last of the great Athenians worthy to stand beside those noble figures whose example he so glowingly presented to the people of his flock.”

In the barbarism which surrounded Athens and of which Michael wrote, as well as in the corruption of the Greek language, one may see some traces of Slavonic influence. Moreover, some scholars, for example Th. Uspensky, judge it possible, on the basis of Michael’s works, to affirm the existence in the twelfth century around Athens of the important phenomenon of Slavonic community and free peasant landownership.

I cannot agree with this statement.

The younger brother of Michael, Nicetas Acominatus or Choniates, holds the most important place among the historians of the twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth century. Born about the middle of the twelfth century in the Phrygian city of Chonae, Nicetas, like his brother, had been sent in his childhood to Constantinople, where he studied under the guidance of his elder brother Michael. While the latter devoted himself to a spiritual career, Nicetas chose the secular career of an official; beginning, apparently, with the last years of the rule of Manuel, and rising to especial importance under the Angeli, he was attached to the court, and reached the highest degrees. Forced to flee from the capital after its sack by the crusaders in 1204, he sought refuge at the court of the Nicean emperor, Theodore Lascaris, who treated him with consideration, restored to him all his lost honors and distinctions, and enabled him to devote the last years of his life to his favorite literary work and to bring to an end his great history. Nicetas died at Nicaea soon after 1210. Michael outlived Nicetas and wrote at his death an emotional funeral oration which is very important from the point of view of Nicetas’ biography.

His chief literary achievement is the great historical work in twenty books comprising the events from the time of John Comnenus’ accession to the throne to the first years of the Latin Empire (1118-1206). Nicetas’ work is a priceless source for the time of Manuel, the interesting rule of Andronicus, the epoch of the Angeli, the Fourth Crusade, and the taking of Constantinople by the crusaders in 1204. The beginning of his history, which treats of the time of John Comnenus, is very brief. The work breaks off with a minor event and accordingly fails to represent a complete whole; perhaps, as Th. Uspensky supposed, it has not yet been published in its complete form. For his history Nicetas acknowledged only two sources: narratives of eyewitnesses and personal observation. The opinions of scholars vary as to whether Nicetas used John Cinnamus as his source. The history of Nicetas is written in an inflated, eloquent, and picturesque style; revealing profound knowledge both of ancient literature and of theology. However, the author himself held quite a different opinion of his style; in the introduction he wrote: “I did not care for a bombastic narrative, stuffed with ununderstandable words and elevated expressions, although many esteem it highly …

As I have already said, artificial and ununderstandable style is most repugnant to history, which, on the contrary, greatly prefers a simple, natural, and plain narrative.”

In spite of some partiality in the exposition of the events of one reign or the other, Nicetas, who was firmly convinced of the full cultural superiority of “the Roman”

over the western “barbarian,” deserves as a historian great trust and deep attention. In his special monograph on Nicetas Choniates, Th. Uspensky wrote: “Nicetas is worthy of study if only for the reason that, in his history, he treats of the most important epoch of the Middle Ages, when the hostile relations between west and east reached their highest point of strain and burst out in the Crusades and in the founding of the Latin Empire in Tsargrad (Constantinople). His opinions of the western crusaders and the mutual relations between west and east are distinguished by a deep truth and ingenuous historical sense that we do not find in the best works of western medieval literature.”

Besides the History, to Nicetas Choniates belong perhaps a small treatise upon the statutes destroyed by the Latins in Constantinople in 1204; some rhetorical writings, formal eulogies in honor of various emperors; and a theological treatise which has not yet been published in full, The Treasure of Orthodoxy (Θησαυρος ορθοδοξιας); this work, a continuation of the Panoply of Euthymius Zigabenus, was written after study of numerous writers and has as its object the refutation of a great number of heretical errors.

Among the celebrated figures of the twelfth century in the field of general culture belongs also the talented teacher and friend of Michael Acominatus, the archbishop of Thessalonica, Eustathius, “the most brilliant luminary of the Byzantine world of learning since Michael Psellus.” He received his education in Constantinople, became deacon of the church of St. Sophia, and was a teacher of rhetoric. He wrote most of his works there, but his historical writings and various occasional compositions he wrote later at Thessalonica. Eustathius’ house in Constantinople was a sort of school for young students; it became a center around which the best minds of the capital and youths anxious to learn collected. As religious head of Thessalonica, the city next in importance to the capital, Eustathius devoted much of his energy to raising the spiritual and moral standard of contemporary monastic conditions, which sometimes created enemies against him among the monks. From a cultural point of view his repeated appeals to the monks not to squander the treasures of the libraries are very interesting; he wrote: “Woe to me! Why will you, O dunces, liken a monastic library to your souls? As you do not possess any knowledge, you are willing to deprive the library also of its scientific means? Let it preserve its treasures. After you there will come either a man of learning or an admirer of science, and the first, by spending a certain time in the libraries, will grow more clever than he was before; the other, ashamed of his complete ignorance, will, by reading books, find that which he desires.” Eustathius died between 1192 and 1194. His pupil and friend, the metropolitan of Athens, Michael Acominatus, honored his memory with a moving funeral oration.

A thoughtful observer of the political life of his epoch, an educated theologian who boldly acknowledged the corruption of monastic life, as well as a profound scholar whose knowledge in ancient literature secured him an honorable place not only in the history of Byzantine civilization but also in the history of classical philology, Eustathius is undoubtedly a prominent personality in the cultural life of Byzantium in the twelfth century. His literary legacy may be divided into two groups: in the first group are his vast and accurate commentaries on the Iliad and Odyssey, on Pindarus, and some others; to the second group belong the works written at Thessalonica: a history of the conquest of Thessalonica by the Normans in 1185; his very important correspondence; the famous treatise on the reforms of monastic life; an oration on the occasion of the death of the Emperor Manuel, and other writings. Eustathius’ works have not yet been adequately used for the study of the political and cultural history of Byzantium.

At the close of the eleventh century and at the beginning of the twelfth there lived a very prominent theologian, Theophylact, archbishop of Achrida (Ochrida) in Bulgaria. He was born on the island of Euboea and for some time officiated as a deacon in St. Sophia in Constantinople. He received a very good education under the famous Michael Psellus, Then, probably under Alexius I Comnenus, he was appointed to the archbishopric of Achrida in Bulgaria, which at that time was under Byzantine power.

Under the severe and barbarous living conditions in this country he was unable to forget his former life in Constantinople, and with all the force of his soul he wished to return to the capital. This wish was not fulfilled. He died in Bulgaria at the beginning of the twelfth century (about 1108, though the exact date is unknown). He was the author of some theological works, and his commentaries on the books of the Old and New Testament are particularly well known. But from the modern point of view his most important literary legacies are his letters and his book On the Errors of the Latins.

Almost all his letters were written between 1091 and 1108, and they draw an exceedingly interesting picture of provincial Byzantine life. They deserve particular attention, and they have not yet been thoroughly studied from the point of view of the internal history of the Empire. His book On the Errors of the Latins, was remarkable in its conciliatory tendencies towards the Catholic church.

Michael of Thessalonica lived and wrote during the reign of Manuel. He began his career as deacon and professor of exegesis of the gospels at St. Sophia in Constantinople, then received the honorable title of master of rhetors, and was finally condemned as a follower of the heresy of Soterichus Panteugenus and deprived of his titles. He composed some orations in honor of Manuel, five of which were published; the last one was delivered as a funeral oration a few days after the Emperor’s death.

Michael’s orations give some interesting details of the historical events of the time; the last two orations have not yet been used by any scholar.

In the middle of the twelfth century one of the numerous Byzantine imitations of Lucian’s Dialogues among the Dead, Timarion was written. Usually, this work is considered as anonymous, but perhaps Timarion was the real name of the author.

Timarion narrates the story of his journey to Hades and reproduces his conversations with the dead men whom he met in the underworld. He saw there Emperor Romanus Diogenes, John Italus, Michael Psellus, the iconoclastic emperor, Theophilus, and so on.

Timarion, without doubt the best Byzantine achievement in the literary field of Lucian’s imitations, is full of vigor and humor. But apart from purely literary quality, Timarion is important for such descriptions of real life as the famous description of the fair of Thessalonica. Therefore, this piece of work of the Comnenian epoch is a very interesting source for the internal history of Byzantium.

Another contemporary of the Comneni, John Tzetzes, who died probably at the close of the twelfth century, is of considerable importance from the literary, historical, and cultural point of view, as well as from the point of view of classical antiquity. He received a good philological education in the capital and for some time was a teacher of grammar. Then he devoted himself to literary activity by which he had to earn his living. In his writings John Tzetzes missed no opportunity to speak of the circumstances of his life; he depicted a man of the twelfth century living by literary work who constantly complained of poverty and misery, served the rich and noble, dedicated his writing to them, and often manifested his indignation at the too small recognition of his services. One day he fell into such want that of all his books none was left him but Plutarch. Lacking money, he sometimes lacked necessary books and, relying too much upon his memory, made in his writings a great number of elementary historical errors. In one of his works he wrote, “For me my head is my library; with our complete lack of money we have no books. Therefore I cannot name exactly the writer.” In another work he wrote of his memory: “God has shown in life no one man, either formerly or now, who possesses a better memory than Tzetzes.” The acquaintance of Tzetzes with ancient and Byzantine writers was indeed very considerable; he was familiar with many poets, dramatists, historians, orators, philosophers, geographers, and literary men, especially Lucian. Tzetzes’ works are written in rhetorical style stuffed with mythological and historical references and quotations, are full of self-praise, difficult and rather uninteresting to read. Among his numerous writings is the collection of his 107 letters, which in spite of their literary defects, is of some importance both for the biography of the author and for the biography of the persons addressed. A Book of Stories (Βιβλιος ιστορων) written in so-called political, or popular meter, a poetical work of historical and philological character, consists of more than 12,000 lines. Since the time of its first editor, who divided the work, for convenience of quotation, into the first thousand lines, the second, and so on, it is usually called “Chiliads” (Thousands). The Histories or Chiliads of John Tzetzes were described by Krumbacher as, “nothing but a huge commentary in verse on his own letters which, letter after letter, are interpreted in them.

The relation between his letters and Chiliads are so close that the one may be considered as a detailed index to the other.” This reason alone deprives Chiliads of any great literary significance. Another scholar, V. Vasilievsky, severely remarked “that Chiliads are from a literary standpoint complete nonsense, but that sometimes they really explain what remained dark in prose,” that is, in Tzetzes’ letters. Another large work by John Tzetzes is Allegories to the Iliad and Odyssey, written also in political verse; it is dedicated to the wife of the Emperor Manuel, the German princess Bertha-Irene, who was called by the author the “most Homeric of queens” (ομηρικωτατη), i.e., the greatest admirer of “all-wise Homer, sea of words,” “a bright moon of full moon, the light-bringer who appears washed not by the waves of ocean, but by the light-bringer [sun] itself who in its splendor appears from its purple bed.” Tzetzes’ aim was, by giving the contents of the poems of Homer, one after another, to expound them, especially from the point of view of allegorical interpretation of the world of gods represented by Homer. In the beginning of his Allegories Tzetzes said conceitedly,

“Thus, I am starting my task, and striking Homer with the staff of my word, I shall make him accessible to all, and his unseen depths will appear before everyone,” This work, declared Vasilievsky, also lacks “not only good taste, but also sound sense.” Besides these works John Tzetzes left some other writings on Homer, Hestod, scholia (critical or explanatory marginal notes) to Hesiod, Aristophanes, some poetry, and some others.

Not all of the works of John Tzetzes have been published, and some of them seem to have been lost.

In view of these comments, one might question whether John Tzetzes has any importance as a cultural force in the twelfth century. But taking into consideration his extraordinary zeal and assiduity for collecting material, his writings are a rich source of important antiquarian notes of considerable significance for classical literature.

Moreover, the method of the author’s work and his vast acquaintance with classical literature makes possible some conclusions upon the character of the literary

“renaissance” of the epoch of the Comneni.

His elder brother, who worked on philology and metric, Isaac Tzetzes hardly needs to be mentioned, but in philological literature “the brothers Tzetzae” were often spoken of as if both brothers were of equal importance. In reality Isaac Tzetzes did not distinguish himself in anything, and it would therefore be more accurate to give up referring to “the brothers Tzetzae.”

A very interesting and typical personality of the epoch of the first three Comneni, especially of John and Manuel, is the very learned poet, Theodore Prodromus, or Ptochoprodromus (the poor Prodromus), as he sometimes named himself in order to arouse pity, in a rather false spirit of humility. Various works of Prodromus afford much material for study to philologist and philosopher, theologian and historian.

Although the published works ascribed with more or less reason to Prodromus are very numerous, nevertheless there is preserved among the manuscripts of different libraries in the West and East not a little material which has not yet been published. At the present time the personality of Prodromus evokes among scholars great divergences of judgment, for it is not clear to whom actually belong the numerous writings ascribed in manuscripts to Prodromus. One group of scholars recognize two writers with the name of Prodromus, another group three, and still a third group only one. The problem has not yet been solved, and probably a solution will be possible only when the whole literary inheritance connected with the name of Prodromus has been published.

The best period of Prodromus’ activity was the first half of the twelfth century.

His uncle, under the monastic name of John, was a metropolitan of Kiev (John II), in Russia, and a Russian chronicle states under the year 1089 that he was “a man skillful in books and learning, clement to the poor and widows.” In all probability, Prodromus died about 1150.

Prodromus belonged, said Diehl, to a degenerate class in Constantinople, the

“literary proletariat consisting of intelligent, cultivated, even distinguished men whom life, by its rigors, had peculiarly abased, not counting vice which in connection with misery had sometimes led them strangely astray and misdirected them.” Acquainted with court circles and in contact with the imperial family and high and powerful officials, the miserable writers strove with difficulty to obtain protectors whose generosity might render them secure. The whole life of Prodromus passed in search of protectors, in continuous complaints of poverty and sickness, or old age, and in supplications for support. For this purpose he spared no flattery or humiliation, regardless of whom he had to ask for support and whom he had to flatter. But Prodromus must be given credit for remaining almost always faithful to one person, even in his disgrace and misfortune; this person was the sister-in-law of Manuel, Irene.

The situation of men of letters like Prodromus was at times very hard; for example, in one piece in verse, which was formerly ascribed to Prodromus, the author expressed regret that he was not a shoemaker or tailor, a dyer or baker, for they have something to eat; but the author received irony from the first man he meets; “Eat thy writings and feed upon them, my dear! Chew greedily thy writings! Take off thy ecclesiastic garments, and become a worker!”

A great many writings of very different character have been preserved under the name of Prodromus. Prodromus was a novelist, a hagiographer, and orator, the author of letters and of an astrological poem, of religious poems and philosophical works, of satires and humorous pieces. Many of them are occasional compositions

commemorating victories, birth, death, marriage, and the like, and they are very valuable for their allusions to personalities and events as well as for information concerning the life of the lower classes in the capital. Prodromus has often incurred severe censure from scholars who emphasize his “pitiful poverty of themes” and the

“disgusting external form of his poetical exercises,” and say that “poetry can not be required from authors who write to get bread.” But this adverse judgment may be explained by the fact that for a long time Prodromus was judged by his weakest, though unfortunately best known, writings; for example, by his long bombastic novel in verse, Rhodanphe and Dosicles, which some scholars call desperately dull and a real trial to read. This opinion can hardly be regarded as the final word, A survey of his work as a whole, including his prose essays, satiric dialogues, libels and epigrams in which he followed the best examples of antiquity, especially Lucian, calls for a revision in his favor of the general judgment of his literary activity. In these writings are keen and amusing observations of contemporary reality which undoubtedly make them interesting for social history in general and literary history in particular. Prodromus is noteworthy also for one very important contribution. In some of his writings, especially humorous works, he gave up the artificial classic language and had recourse to the spoken Greek of the twelfth century, of which he left very interesting specimens.

Great credit is due him for this. The best Byzantine scholars today accordingly acknowledge that in spite of all his defects Prodromus without doubt belongs among the remarkable phenomena of Byzantine literature, and is, “as few Byzantines are, a distinctly pronounced cultural and historical figure.”

Under the Comneni and Angeli lived also a humanist, Constantine Stilbes, of whom very little is known. He received a very good education, was a teacher at Constantinople, and later received the title of master of literature. Thirty-five pieces, almost all of them in verse, composed by Stilbes, are known, but are not yet published.

The best known of his poems is that on the great fire that occurred in Constantinople on July 25, 1197; it was the first mention of this fact. This poem consists of 938 verses and gives much information on the topography, structures, and customs of the capital of the Eastern Empire. In another poem, Stilbes described another fire in Constantinople in the following year, 1198. The literary legacy of Stilbes, preserved in many European libraries, and his personality certainly deserve further investigation.

In the epoch of the Comneni, the dull Byzantine chronicle has also several representatives who began their narrative with the creation of the world. George Cedrenus, who lived under Alexius Comnenus, brought his history down to the beginning of the rule of Isaac Comnenus, in 1057; his narration of the period from 811

on is almost identical with the text of the chronicler of the second half of the eleventh century, John Scylitzes, whose Greek original has not yet been published. John Zonaras wrote in the twelfth century not the usual dry chronicle but “a manual of world history evidently intended for higher requirements,” which rested upon reliable sources; he brought his history down to the accession to the throne of John Comnenus in 1118. The chronicle of Constantine Manasses, written in the first half of the twelfth century in political verses, and dedicated to the enlightened sister-in-law of Manuel, Irene, carries the history down to the ascension to the throne of Alexius Comnenus in 1081. Some years ago a continuation of Manasses’ Chronicle was published. It contains seventy-nine verses, covering briefly the time from John Comnenus to the first Latin Emperor in Constantinople, Baldwin; almost half deals with Andronicus I. Manasses also wrote an iambic poem probably entitled Οδοιπορικον (Itinerarium), dealing with contemporary events, which was published in 1904. Finally, Michael Glycas wrote in the twelfth century a world chronicle of events down to the death of Alexius Comnenus in 1118.

As far as Byzantine art is concerned, the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli was the continuation of the second Golden Age, the beginning of which many-scholars ascribe to the middle of the ninth century, i.e., from the accession of the Macedonian dynasty. Of course, the troubled period in the eleventh century, just before the accession of the Comnenian Dynasty, interrupted for a short time the splendor of artistic achievements under the Macedonian Emperors. But with the new dynasty of the Comneni, the Empire regained some of its former glory and prosperity, and Byzantine art seemed able to continue the brilliant tradition of the Macedonian epoch.

But a kind of formalism and immobility may be marked under the Comneni. “In the eleventh century we already mark a decline in the feeling for the antique; natural freedom gives place to formalism; the theological intention becomes more obviously the end for which the work is undertaken. The elaborate iconographical system belongs to this period.” In another book Dalton said, “The springs of progress dried up; there was no longer any power of organic growth … As the Comnenian period advanced, sacred art became itself a kind of ritual, memorized and performed with an almost unconscious direction of the faculties. It no longer had fire or fervor; it moved insensibly towards formalism.”

But this does not mean that Byzantine art under the Comneni was in a state of decay.

Especially in the field of architecture there were many remarkable monuments. At Constantinople the beautiful palace of Blachernae was erected, and the Comneni left the former imperial residence, the so-called Great Palace, and settled in a new palace, at the end of the Golden Horn. The new imperial residence was in no way inferior to the Great Palace, and contemporary writers have left enthusiastic descriptions of it. The abandoned Great Palace fell into decay. In the fifteenth century it was only a ruin and the Turks completed its destruction.

The name of the Comneni is also connected with the construction or reconstruction of several churches; for example, the Pantocrator at Constantinople, which became the burial place of John II and Manuel I Comneni and in which later on, in the fifteenth century, were to be buried the Emperors Manuel II and John VIII Palaeologi.

The famous church of Chora (Qahrieh jami) was reconstructed at the beginning of the twelfth century. Churches were being built not only in the capital, but also in the provinces. In the West, at Venice, the cathedral of St. Mark, reproducing in plan the Church of the Apostles at Constantinople and reflecting in its mosaics Byzantine influence, was solemnly consecrated in 1095. In Sicily, many buildings and mosaics of Cefalu, Palermo, and Monreale, reproducing the best achievements of Byzantine art, belong to the twelfth century. In the East, the mosaics in the Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem are important remains of an elaborate decoration executed by east Christian mosaicists for Emperor Manuel Comnenus in 1169. Thus, in the East as in the West, “the influence of Greek art remained all powerful in the twelfth century, and even where it might be least expected, among the Normans of Sicily and the Latins of Syria, Byzantium continued to initiate and to lead in elegance.”

Very important frescoes of the eleventh and twelfth centuries have been

discovered in Cappadocia and southern Italy; also in Russia, at Kiev, Chernigov, Novgorod and in its neighborhood, some beautiful frescoes were made by Byzantine artists at the same time. Many artistic specimens of the epoch are to be found in ivory carvings, pottery and glass, metal work, seals, and engraved gems.

But, in spite of all artistic achievements of the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli, the first period of the second Golden Age contemporary with the Macedonian dynasty was more brilliant and more creative. Therefore, one cannot agree with the statement by a French writer: “In the twelfth century the political and military fortune of Byzantium is shaken never to rise again. Nevertheless, the creative power of the Empire and of the Christian Orient reaches, in that epoch, its apogee.”

The Byzantine renaissance of the twelfth century is interesting and important not only by itself and for itself; it was an essential part of the general west European renaissance of the twelfth century which has been so well described and expounded by C. H. Haskins in The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century. In the first two lines of his preface he said, “The title of this book will appear to many to contain a flagrant contradiction. A renaissance in the twelfth century!” There is no contradiction at all. In the twelfth century western Europe witnessed the revival of the Latin classics, of the Latin language, of Latin prose and of Latin verse, of jurisprudence and philosophy, of historical writings; it was the epoch of the translations from Greek and Arabic and of the beginning of the universities. And Haskins was absolutely right when he said, “It is not always sufficiently realized that there was also a notable amount of direct contact with Greek sources, both in Italy and in the east, and that translations made directly from Greek originals were an important, as well as a more direct and faithful, vehicle for the transmission of ancient learning.” In the twelfth century direct intercourse between Italy and Byzantium, especially Constantinople, was more frequent and extensive than might be expected at first sight. In connection with the religious plans of the Comneni to draw nearer to Rome, many disputations were held at

Constantinople, very often before the emperors, with the participation of the learned members of the Catholic Church who had come to the Byzantine capital for the purpose of a reconciliation between the two churches. These discussions greatly contributed to the transmission of Greek learning to the West. Moreover the trade relations of the Italian commercial republics with Byzantium, and the Venetian and Pisan quarters at Constantinople brought into residence there a number of Italian scholars who learned Greek and transmitted a certain amount of Greek learning to the West. Especially under Manuel Comnenus was there “a steady procession of missions to Constantinople, papal, imperial, French, Pisan, and others, and a scarcely less continuous succession of Greek embassies to the west, reminding us of the Greeks in Italy in the early fifteenth century.”

Taking into consideration all this activity the conclusion is that the cultural movement of the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli is one of the brilliant pages in the history of Byzantium. In previous epochs Byzantium had had no such revival, and this revival of the twelfth century becomes of much greater importance when it is compared with the cultural revival at the same time in the West. The twelfth century may certainly be designated as the first Hellenic renaissance in the history of Byzantium.

8. The Empire of Nicaea (1204-61)

New states formed on Byzantine terrirory.

The Fourth Crusade, which had ended in the taking and sacking of Constantinople, brought about the disintegration of the Byzantine Empire and the formation, on its territory, of a great number of states, partly Frankish, partly Greek, of which the former received western European feudal organization. The Franks formed the following states: the Latin or Constantinopolitan Empire, the Kingdom of Thessalonica (Salonica), the principality of Achaia in the Peloponnesus (Morea) and the Duchy of Athens and Thebes in middle Greece. The sway of Venice extended over the Byzantine islands of the Aegean and Ionian Seas, the island of Crete, and a number of littoral and inland places. Along with the Latin feudal possessions on the territory of the disintegrated Eastern Empire, three independent Greek centers were formed; the Empire of Nicaea and the Empire of Trebizond in Asia Minor, and the Despotat of Epirus in northern Greece. Baldwin, count of Flanders, became Emperor of Constantinople and master of the greater part of Thrace; Boniface, marquess of Montferrat, became king of Thessalonica (Salonica), with power extending over Macedonia and Thessaly; William of Champlitte and after him Geoffrey de Villehardouin were princes in the Peloponnesus (Morea), and Othon de la Roche took the title of duke (sire), or, as he was called by his Greek subjects, Megaskyr or “Great Lord” of both Athens and Thebes. In the three Greek states the following princes reigned: at Nicaea (in Bithynia), Theodore I Lascaris; at Trebizond, Alexius I Comnenus; and in the Despotat of Epirus, Michael I Angelus Ducas Comnenus. Moreover, the two foreign states — the Second Bulgarian Empire through the activity of its kings Kalojan and John Asen II, and the Sultanate of Rum or Iconium in Asia Minor — took an active part in the complicated international life which after 1204 was established on the ruins of the Byzantine Empire. This was especially true of Bulgaria.

The whole thirteenth century was full of continuous clashes and strife between these states in the most various combinations: the Greeks struggled against the Frankish newcomers, the Turks and Bulgars; the Greeks strove against the Greeks, introducing in the form of national discord, new elements of dissolution into the life of a country which was already disorganized enough; the Franks fought against the Bulgars; and so forth. All these military conflicts were followed by the making of various and, to a large extent, transient international alliances and understandings, which were easily concluded and equally easily broken.

After the disaster of 1204 the problem of where the political, economic, national, religious, and cultural center should exist, and where the idea of unification and order might be created and strengthened, was extremely important. The feudal states founded in the East on the western models, and commercial factories, where everyone pursued his personal interests, led, under the conditions of general anarchy, to further dissolution; they could neither create a new order nor adequately manage the inheritance which they had received after the Fourth Crusade. “All these Western enclaves in the East reacted not creatively, but destructively,” said one historian, “and therefore they were themselves destroyed; but the Orient remained master over the Orient.”[1]

Beginnings of the Empire of Nicaea and the Lascarids.

In the Empire of Nicaea the idea of Greek national unification and reconstruction of the Byzantine state was formed and strengthened, and it was from this empire that Michael Palaeologus came, the leader who in 1261 took possession of Constantinople and restored, though to much less than its former extent, the Byzantine Empire. For a time it might have been thought that the task of the restoration of the Greek empire would be reserved for another Greek center, the Despotat of Epirus; but for many reasons the despots of Epirus were forced to yield to the increasing importance of Nicaea and to give up the leading role in the Christian East. The third Greek center, the Empire of Trebizond, lay too far away to be able to play the leading part in the process of the unification of the Greeks; therefore the history of Trebizond has its own special interest, political as well as cultural and economic, and deserves a particular investigation of its own.

The founder of the Empire of Nicaea, “an Empire in exile,” was Theodore Lascaris, a man about thirty years old, related to the house of the Angeli through his wife Anna, daughter of the former Emperor Alexius III, and to the house of the Comneni through Alexius III. The origin of the Lascarids and the name of Theodore’s native city are not known. Under Alexius III he held military command and fought energetically against the crusaders.[2] In all likelihood he had been regarded as a possible emperor of Byzantium by the Constantinopolitan clergy after the flight of Alexius Ducas Murzuphlus (Mourtzouphlos) and up to the very moment of the taking of the capital by the crusaders; but at that time he fled to Asia Minor. There also sought shelter from the invasion of the crusaders numerous representatives of the Byzantine civil and military nobility, some prominent members of the church, and some other fugitives who did not wish to be under the yoke of the foreign power. The last Greek patriarch of Constantinople, John Camaterus, however, left the capital for Bulgaria and refused to come to Nicaea on Theodore’s invitation. The metropolitan of Athens, Michael Acominatus, who had withdrawn into exile before the invading Latins, wrote a letter in which he recommended to the favorable attention of Theodore Lascaris a certain Euboean. He wrote that the latter had gone secretly to Nicaea, preferring the life of an exile at the palace of a Greek (Romaic) state to a stay in his native country oppressed by the foreigners; in the same letter Michael emphasized the fact that, if the Euboean found shelter at Nicaea, it would greatly impress the whole population of Greece who

“would regard Theodore as a single universal liberator,” that is to say, a liberator of the whole of Romania.[3]

After the death of Theodore Lascaris, who ruled from 1204 to 1222, there reigned his son-in-law, his daughter Irene’s husband, John III Ducas Vatatzes (1222-1254),[4] the most talented and energetic emperor of Nicaea. After his death the throne was in the-power, first of his own son Theodore II (1254-1258), and then of his grandson John IV

(1258-1261), who was a minor during his reign. The latter was dethroned by Michael Palaeologus, the restorer of the Byzantine Empire.

The situation of the new state in Bithynia was extremely dangerous: from the east it was threatened by the powerful sultan of Iconium, who occupied the whole interior of Asia Minor and was also master of a part of the Mediterranean shore in the south and of a part of the Black Sea coast in the north; from the west the state of Nicaea was pushed back by the Latin Empire, which set as one of its chief goals the destruction of the new state of Nicaea. A complicated and difficult task devolved upon Theodore Lascaris, who ruled for about the first four years with the title not of emperor, but of despot. Within the country anarchy prevailed; in several parts of the state there arose independent rulers; the city of Nicaea shut its gates to Theodore.

Meanwhile, the Latin knights who had established themselves at Constantinople determined, in the same year, 1204, to conquer Asia Minor. Their military operations there were very successful. It seemed to the Greeks of Asia Minor that all was lost.

Villehardouin said, “the people of the country took the part of the Franks and began to pay them tributes.”[5] At this critical moment for the new state came the sudden news that the Latin emperor, Baldwin, had been captured by the Bulgars.

Since 1196 there had sat upon the Bulgarian throne Kalojan (John, Johannitsa), who, during the time of the Angeli, had been a terrible enemy of Byzantium. The Latin state established in the Balkan peninsula complicated the situation exceedingly. It was absolutely clear that the crusaders and Bulgars would have to raise the question of dominion in the Balkan peninsula. The relations between them became at once very strained, for the crusaders had reacted insultingly to Kalojan’s friendly propositions, giving him to understand that he could not regard the Latin emperor as his equal, but must look up to him as a serf looks up to his master; and the Latins warned Kalojan that if he failed in respect, the crusaders would conquer Bulgaria by force of arms and reduce him to his former servile state.[6]

Having thus provoked the anger of the Bulgarian king, the Latins at the same time also irritated the Greek population of Thrace and Macedonia by insulting Greek religious beliefs and rites. The secret relations of the Greeks with King Kalojan prepared in the Balkan peninsula an insurrection in favor of the Bulgars.[7] It may be supposed that the former patriarch of Constantinople, John Camaterus, who is known to have lived in Bulgaria, played an important part in the formation of the Byzantine-Bulgarian alliance in 1204-5.[8] This alliance, Th. Uspensky said, “put an end to Kalojan’s hesitations and fixed the plan of his future actions. To come out as a protector of orthodoxy and of the Greco-Bulgarian population against the Catholic Latin predominance and therewith to take upon himself the task of reviving the weakened imperial power in Byzantium became thereafter the chief motive of Kalojan’s undertakings against the crusaders.”[9] The tsar of Bulgaria longed for the crown of the Byzantine basileus.

The Greco-Bulgarian insurrection which had broken out in the Balkan peninsula, compelled the crusaders to recall to Europe the troops that had been sent to Asia Minor to fight against Theodore Lascaris. In the battle of Hadrianople, on the fifteenth of April, 1205, Kalojan, supported by the Cuman (Polovtzi) cavalry in his army, dealt a decisive defeat to the crusaders. In this battle fell the flower of Western chivalry, and the Emperor Baldwin himself was taken prisoner by the Bulgars. The fate of the captured emperor is not known; but, apparently, by order of the Bulgarian king, Baldwin was slain in some manner.[10] Because of the lack of information on Baldwin’s end, his brother Henry was elected regent of the Latin Empire for the time of Baldwin’s absence. More than eight hundred years before, in 378, another Roman emperor, Valens, had been killed near Hadrianople in his conflict with the Goths.

The old doge, Enrico Dandolo, who had also taken part in the battle and conducted the hard night retreat of the remains of the defeated troops, died shortly after this disaster and was buried in St. Sophia. As a widespread tradition states, his corpse remained there till the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, when the Sultan Muhammed II commanded the body of the Venetian hero to be destroyed.[11]

The defeat of Hadrianople placed the crusaders in a desperate situation. It was a blow to the Latin Empire that, at the very beginning of its political existence, undermined its whole future. “The dominion of the Franks over Romania ended on this terrible day,”[12] declared Gelzer, and it is true that “the destiny of the Latin Empire of Constantinople, for a certain period of time, was entirely in the hands of the Bulgarian king.”[13]

The battle of Hadrianople had the greatest significance both for the Bulgarian kingdom and for the Empire of Nicaea. The Greeks of Macedonia and Thrace, lacking a national center in Europe and not foreseeing Nicaea’s future significance in that connection, considered it possible to come to an agreement and to make common cause with the Bulgars against the Latins; the best possible opportunity was open to Kalojan to carry out his ambitious plan, namely, to establish on the site of the hostile Frankish realm a great Greco-Slavonic state in the Balkan peninsula with its center at Constantinople. But, as V. G. Vasilievsky wrote, “the Slavonic rulers could not succeed in making a representative of the Greco-Slavonic world play an imperial world role. Kalojan’s ambition to found a Greco-Bulgarian kingdom in the Balkan peninsula, with the capital at Constantinople, remained in the realm of dreams.”[14]

Meanwhile, the unnatural Greco-Bulgarian friendly understanding, which had brought about the victory of Hadrianople, promptly broke down, as soon as the Balkan Greek patriots saw in the sovereign of Nicaea a possible liberator from the Latin conquerors and a spokesman for their national expectations and hopes. In the Balkan peninsula there appeared clearly expressed anti-Bulgarian tendencies, against which the king of Bulgaria opened a merciless and destructive war. According to the statement of a contemporary source, Kalojan was avenging the evils which the Emperor Basil II had inflicted upon the Bulgars. The latter had been given the name of the

“slayer of Bulgars” (Bulgaroctonus); Kalojan proudly styled himself the “slayer of Romans” (Romaioctonus, Romaioktonos). The Greeks surnamed him “Dog-John” (in Greek Skyloioannes);[15] in his letter a Latin emperor calls him a “great destroyer of Greece” (magnus populator Graeciae).[16]

“Here manifested itself,” stated a Bulgarian historian, “the purely Bulgarian national tendency, which guided the imperialistic policy of the King Kalojan against the Greek element, this sworn enemy of Bulgarian national independence, even in the moment of the alliance with the Greek cities of Thrace against the Latin Empire.”[17]

The bloody campaign of John in Thrace and Macedonia ended fatally for him. At the siege of Thessalonica (1207) he died a violent death. A Greek legend inserted into the tales of the miracles of the martyr St. Demetrius, which exist in Greek and Slavonic versions, as well as in the old Russian chronographies, speaks of him as an enemy of the Orthodox church, stricken down by the saintly patron of the city. Thus the king of Bulgaria was unable to take advantage of circumstances which were very favorable to him after the victory of Hadrianople. In his person, Nikov said, there “disappeared from the historical stage one of the greatest diplomatists Bulgaria had ever borne.”[18]

But on the other hand, the battle of Hadrianople, which had destroyed the strength of the Frankish dominion at Constantinople, saved the Empire of Nicaea from ruin and gave it hope for a new life. Theodore Lascaris, who had escaped the danger from his western neighbor, set to work actively to organize his state. First of all, when Theodore had succeeded in establishing himself firmly at Nicaea, the question was raised of proclaiming him emperor instead of despot. As the Greek patriarch of Constantinople, who after the Frankish invasion had withdrawn to Bulgaria, refused to come to Nicaea, a new patriarch, Michael Autoreanus, was elected there in 1208; he had his residence at Nicaea and crowned Theodore Emperor in the same year, 1208.[19]

This event of 1208 had very great significance for the subsequent history of the state of Nicaea: Nicaea became the center of the Empire, as well as of the Church. By the side of the shaken Latin Empire there grew up this second empire which gradually unified a rather considerable territory in Asia Minor, and by little and little drew the attention and hopes of the European Greeks. In the treaty concluded about 1220

between Theodore Lascaris and the Venetian representative at Constantinople (podestá) the official title of the former, apparently acknowledged by Venice, was:

“Theodorus, in Christo Deo fidelis Imperator et moderator Romeorum et semper augustus, Comnenus Lascarus.”[20] The formation of a new empire caused strained relations with the Empire of Constantinople; the two empires established on the ruins of the single Byzantine Empire could not live on friendly and peaceful terms.

Nicaea, located about forty English miles from Constantinople, became the capital of the new empire. Its position at the intersection of five or six roads, gave it a special political importance. Nicaea had achieved fame in Byzantine history as the site of two ecumenical councils, and its inhabitants boasted of the powerful walls, towers, and gates erected in the Middle Ages. These are still well preserved today. A short time before the First Crusade Nicaea had succumbed to the Seljuq Turks, but the crusaders who had taken the city away from them had been compelled, to their great discontent, to return it to Alexius Comnenus. Magnificent palaces and numerous churches and monasteries, of which now not a trace remains, adorned medieval Nicaea.[21] Speaking of Nicaea and recalling the First Ecumenical Council, an Arabian traveler of the twelfth century, al-Harawy (el-Herewy) wrote: “In the church of this city one may see the image of the Messiah and the portraits of the Fathers enthroned on their seats. This church is the object of particular reverence.”[22] The Byzantine and western historians of the thirteenth century point out the vast extent and wealth of Nicaea.[23] A writer of the thirteenth century, Nicephorus Blemmydes, spoke of Nicaea in one of his poems:

“Nicaea, a city with wide streets, full of people, well-walled, proud of what it encloses, being the most excellent mark of imperial sympathy.”[24] Finally, in the literature of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries are preserved two panegyrics of Nicaea. The author of one of them, Emperor Theodore II Lascaris, addressed Nicaea: “Thou hast surpassed all the cities, since the Romaeic state, many times divided and crushed by foreign troops … has been founded, established, and strengthened only in thee.”[25]

The second panegyric was written by a very well-known statesman of the fourteenth century, a diplomat, politician and administrator, theologian, astronomer, poet, and artist, Theodore Metochites,[26] whose name is associated with the famous mosaics of the Constantinople monastery Chora (now the mosque Kahrieh Jami), which have been preserved to the present time.

Of the monuments of the Middle Ages to be found in the miserable present-day Turkish city of Isnik (the distorted name of Nicaea) before the First World War, one might have pointed out, in addition to the city walls, the modest small church of the Assumption. This dated probably from the ninth century, and had fine mosaics, important for the study of Byzantine art.[27] But during World War I Nicaea was bombarded, and no single house was left untouched. The Church of the Assumption suffered particularly; during the bombardment it was destroyed, and only the western arch under the dome and the southern part of the narthex have been preserved. The other famous church of Nicaea, the cathedral of Sophia, is also in a deplorable state.[28]

An interesting document has been preserved which shows, to a certain extent, Theodore Lascaris’ conception of imperial power. It is called Silentium (Σελεντιον, σιλεντιον), the name given at the time of Byzantium to the public imperial speeches delivered by the Emperors in the palace in the presence of the noblest persons of the Empire at the beginning of Lent, The Silentium is regarded as the throne speech of Theodore Lascaris delivered in 1208, immediately after his coronation.[29] It was written by his contemporary, the very well-known historian Nicetas Choniates, who, after the sack of Constantinople by the Latins, had found a secure refuge at Nicaea. This rhetorically written speech shows that Theodore, like a Byzantine basileus, considered that his power was granted to him by God. “My Imperial Majesty has been placed by heaven as a father over the universal Roman state; the Will of God has laid upon me the power…” God had granted Theodore for his zeal “the annointment and power of David.” The unity of the Empire meant also unity in the church. “There shall be one fold and one shepherd,” Theodore declared at the end of the Silentium.[30] It is true that this speech does not belong to the pen of the Emperor himself, but it reflects the prevailing opinion of the best-born and best-educated people of the Empire of Nicaea, an opinion based on solid grounds, after Theodore Lascaris, united by ties of parentage with the Angeli and Comneni, became the “Roman basilens” at Nicaea and realized that he continued the line of the Byzantine emperors.

Foreign policy of the Lascarids and the restoration of the Byzantine empire.

After the defeat of the Latins at Hadrianople, Theodore’s situation became temporarily a little easier. Baldwin’s successor on the Constantinopolitan throne, however, his brother Henry, an energetic and talented leader and ruler, after his coronation in St. Sophia somewhat recovered from the reverse with the Bulgars and again opened hostilities against Theodore, having it in mind to annex the possessions of Nicaea to the Latin Empire. The Emperor of Nicaea could not, by force of arms, check the successes of the Latins. But the Bulgarian danger to the Latins and the Seljuq danger to Theodore compelled both of them to come to an agreement and to conclude a truce, by the terms of which Theodore had to pull down several fortresses.[31]

The Seljuq Turks.

Theodore’s war with the Seljuq Sultan, to whom belonged the greater part of Asia Minor, had great importance for the new Empire of Nicaea. The appearance of a new state, the Empire of Nicaea, was, undoubtedly, exceedingly disagreeable to the Turkish Sultanate of Iconium or Rum, for it hindered the Turks in their further advance to the West toward the coast of the Aegean Sea. To this main cause of the strained relations between the two states must be added the fact that Theodore Lascaris’ father-in-law, Alexius III Angelus, fled to the sultan and besought him for help to regain his lost throne. Availing himself of the opportunity of Alexius’ arrival, the sultan sent to Theodore a threatening demand to deliver the throne to him, concealing under this pretext his real aim of taking possession of the whole of Asia Minor. Hostilities began; they took place particularly at Antioch, on the Maeander river, in Carla. The chief force of Theodore was the eight hundred brave western mercenaries. In their fight with the Turks, they displayed great heroism and inflicted enormous losses on the enemy, but almost all of them were left dead on the field of battle. By his personal courage and great presence of mind, however, Theodore Lascaris regained control of the situation.

In the following clash the sultan was slain, perhaps by Theodore himself. A contemporary source said, the sultan “fell as from a tower,” i.e. from the mare on which he was mounted.[32] In the same battle the former emperor, Alexius III, who had taken refuge with the Turks, was captured. He put on the cowl and ended his life in one of the monasteries of Nicaea.

This war seems to have brought about no great territorial changes for

Theodore.[33] But the moral significance of the victory of the Greek Christian Emperor of Nicaea over the Muslims was very great: it confirmed the new Empire, revived the former Byzantine traditions of the struggle against Islam, and filled with joy and vigor the hearts of the Greeks, not only the Asiatics, but also the Europeans, who, for the first time, saw in Nicaea a possible center of their future unification. Nicetas Choniates wrote in honor of Theodore’s victory a long and bombastic panegyric.[34] Nicetas’

brother, Michael Acominatus, the former metropolitan of Athens, from the island of Ceos, where he was spending the last years of his life, sent Theodore a letter of congratulation in which he expressed his wish that Theodore might take possession of the throne of Constantine the Great in the place which our Lord had originally chosen,[35] that is to say, in Constantinople.

The Latin Empire.

But if the Greeks rejoiced in Theodore’s victory, the Latin emperor, Henry, who feared the brave western mercenaries of Theodore, was also contented with the same victory, however strange it may seem at first sight; since almost all these mercenaries had fallen in the war against the Turks, the victory, in the opinion of Henry, actually weakened the Emperor of Nicaea. A historian of that time said that Henry declared:

“Lascaris has been vanquished, and has not vanquished.”[36] Henry was mistaken, however, because shortly after the war Theodore had again at his disposal a considerable number of Franks and well-armed Greeks.[37]

The victory over the Turks allowed Theodore to open hostilities against Henry. At that time Theodore’s specific goal was to attack Constantinople with the support of his already considerable fleet. A very interesting letter, which Gerland called a manifesto,[38] was written by Henry from Pergamon at the beginning of the year 1212, addressed to “all his friends whom its contents may reach” (universis amicis suis ad quos tenor presentium pervenerit). The letter testifies that Henry regarded Theodore as a very dangerous foe; he wrote: “The first and greatest enemy was Lascaris who held the whole land beyond the Strait of Saint George[39] as far as Turkey, and, setting up for an emperor, he often pressed upon us from that part … Lascaris collected a very great number of galleys in order to take possession of Constantinople; therefore the city was trembling in great desolation, so that despairing of our return (from Asia Minor) many of our people were planning to flee across the sea; and a great many passed over to Lascaris promising him help against us … All the Greeks began to murmur against us and promised Lascaris support if he would come to fight Constantinople.” The letter ends with an appeal to the Latins to support Henry. “To have full victory and possess our Empire we need a great number of Latins to whom we may give the land which we are acquiring and which we have acquired; for, as you know, it is not enough to acquire the land, but there must be those who can maintain it.”[40] This letter shows clearly that Henry was greatly alarmed by the hostilities of Theodore Lascaris, and, furthermore, that the spirit of his new subjects was wavering.

Nevertheless, this first attempt of Nicaea to restore the former capital of the Empire miscarried; the Empire of Nicaea was not yet sufficiently strong nor prepared for this purpose. The success was on the side of Henry, who penetrated rather far into the interior of Asia Minor. In a letter recently published and dated apparently in the year 1213, Henry gives a brief account of his victory over the Greeks, who “with such insolence and abuse rose against the Roman church that they considered all its sons, devoted Latins, as dogs and, because of their contempt of our faith, generally called them dogs.”[41]

The peace concluded between the two emperors fixed exactly the borders of the two empires in Asia Minor: the northwestern part of the peninsula remained in the hands of the Latin Empire. In other words, without taking into consideration some insignificant territorial annexations made by the Latin Empire within the country, the Latin possessions in Asia Minor, after that peace, differed very little from the possessions that the Empire had received in the partition of 1204.[42]

In 1216 the talented and energetic Henry died in the prime of life. He was admired and beloved even by the Greeks, and a Byzantine chronicler of the fourteenth century said that Henry was “a real Ares.”[43] The historians of the twentieth century also estimate highly his personality and activities. Gerland declared: “Of the [Latin] Empire Henry became the real founder. His institutions laid the basis upon which the Frankish dominion in Greece developed.”[44] “Henry’s death,” wrote A. Gardner, “was certainly a calamity for the Latins — possibly for the Greeks likewise — since his strong but conciliatory policy might have succeeded, if any policy ever could, in filling up the breach between East and West.”[45] In the person of Henry the most dangerous enemy of Nicaea passed away. His successors on the Constantinopolitan throne were distinguished neither for talent nor energy.

In 1222 the founder of the Empire of Nicaea died. Theodore I Lascaris had created a Hellenic center in Asia Minor, unified the state, and attracted to it the attention of the European Greeks. He had laid the foundation upon which his successor was able to build a vast structure. In his eulogistic letters to Theodore Lascaris, Michael Acominatus wrote: “The capital hurled by the barbarian inundation out of the walls of Byzantium to the shores of Asia in the shape of a miserable fragment has been received by thee, guided, and saved … Thou ought to be called forever the new builder and peopler of the city of Constantine … Looking only to thee and calling thee a savior and universal liberator the people wrecked in the universal deluge take refuge in thy state as in a calm harbour … No one of the emperors who reigned over Constantinople I consider equal to thee, except, of those nearer in time, the great Basil Bulgaroctonus, and of the more ancient, the noble Heraclius.”[46]

John III Ducas Vatatzes (1222-1254).

After the death of Theodore I Lascaris, John III Ducas Vatatzes, the husband of his daughter Irene, ascended the throne of Nicaea and reigned from 1222 to 1254.[47]

Although his predecessor had laid some foundation for the further development of the state of Nicaea, nevertheless its international position was such as to require urgently the rule of a decisive and energetic man. This man appeared in the person of John Vatatzes.

At that time four states were contending for mastery over the East: the Empire of Nicaea, the Latin Empire, the Despotat of Epirus, and the Bulgarian Kingdom of John Asen II. John Vatatzes’ external policy, therefore, consisted on the one hand of wars, and on the other of alliances with one or another state. By a stroke of good fortune his three rivals in the Balkan peninsula never acted jointly and decisively, but pursued a vacillating and weakening policy of interstate hostilities, or a policy of transient alliances. John Vatatzes thoroughly succeeded in managing the complicated international situation.

The Despotat of Epirus and its relation to the Empire of Nicaea.

For the further destiny of the Empire of Nicaea the history of the Despotat of Epirus was extremely important. Epirus was the second Greek center, where, under certain conditions, might have been concentrated the interests of the western Greek patriots and from which might have come the idea of the restoration of the Byzantine Empire, The two Greek states, Epirus and Nicaea, which could not come to a satisfactory compromise in their rivalry to bring about Hellenic unification, were unavoidably to struggle to restore Byzantium.

The founder of the Despotat of Epirus in 1204 was Michael I Angelus. The family of the Epirotic Angeli was related to the families of the Comneni and Ducae, and therefore the names of the rulers of Epirus are sometimes accompanied by a long dynastic title

“Angelus Comnenus Ducas.” Originally the possessions of the Despotat of Epirus had extended from Dyrrachium (Durazzo) in the north to the Gulf of Corinth in the south; that is to say, they had occupied the territory of ancient Epirus, Acarnania, and Aetolia.

The city of Arta became the capital of the new state.

The history of the Despotat of Epirus in the thirteenth century is not yet thoroughly investigated and the sources are far from complete; for this reason, many questions still remain debatable and dark. Much light has been thrown upon the history of the Despotat by the letters of John Apocaucus (Apokaukos), the metropolitan of Naupactus (Lepanto), which were published at the end of the nineteenth century by V. G. Vasilievsky.[48]

In its internal administration the Despotat did not differ from the system in use before 1204, when its territory had formed a province of the Byzantine Empire; the name of the form of government changed, but the people continued to live on the basis of the Byzantine administration. Surrounded on all sides by the Latin and Slavonic states, on the east by the feudal Kingdom of Thessalonica, on the northeast by the Bulgarian Kingdom, and on the west by the possessions of Venice which threatened the coast of Epirus, the Despotat was obliged to develop a strong military power that might, in case of need, offer an adequate resistance to external foes. The mountainous and inaccessible nature of the country also served as a great support. The despot Michael I considered himself an absolutely independent ruler and did not recognize any superiority or leadership on the part of Theodore Lascaris of Nicaea, The church in the Despotat was also independent, and Michael I commanded the bishops to be ordained by the local metropolitans.

The original task of the Despot of Epirus was to preserve Hellenism in the western districts of Greece from absorption by the neighboring Franks and Bulgars. Broader aims, which led the Despotat far beyond the n\arrow limits of its own interests, appeared and developed later.

During the reign of Theodore Lascaris Nicaea seems to have had no conflicts with the Despotat. With the ascension of John Vatatzes to the throne, circumstances changed. At that time the brother of the slain Michael, Theodore, sat on the throne of Epirus. His name is connected with the idea of the expansion of his state at the expense of the Latins and Bulgars.

In his brother’s lifetime the new despot, Theodore Angelus, had stayed at the court of the Emperor of Nicaea. When the late Michael I had begged Theodore Lascaris to let his brother go back to Epirus to help the despot in ruling the state, the Emperor of Nicaea granted Michael’s request, having previously exacted from Theodore of Epirus an oath of allegiance to him as emperor as well as to his successors. Theodore Lascaris’

apprehensions proved well grounded. When Theodore Angelus had become the Despot of Epirus, he paid no attention to the oath he had taken to the Emperor of Nicaea, and when he judged it advisable, he opened hostilities against Nicaea.

The first act that drew attention to Theodore Angelus was his capture of the Latin Emperor of Constantinople, Peter de Courtenay, count of Auxerre. After Henry’s death (1216), the barons elected as emperor his brother-in-law, Peter de Courtenay, who had married Yolande, the sister of Baldwin and Henry. At the time of his election he was with his wife in France. Having received the news of the election, he set out with her for Constantinople by way of Rome, where Pope Honorius III crowned Peter with the imperial crown, not in St. Peter’s, but in San Lorenzo Fuori le Mura, wishing to emphasize the fact that the Empire of Romania in the East was not the Empire of Rome in the West, — a distinction which might have been obscured if the coronation of an eastern emperor had taken place in St. Peter’s, where the western emperors, beginning with Charlemagne and Otto I, had been crowned.[49] From Italy Peter sent his wife, Yolande, by sea to Constantinople; he and his troops sailed across the Adriatic and landed near Dyrrachium, hoping to reach the capital by land. But Theodore Angelus attacked him from an ambush in the mountains of Epirus, and defeated and captured the greater part of Peter’s troops. The Emperor himself, according to one source, fell in battle; according to another, was seized by Theodore and died in Greek captivity.[50] V.

G. Vasilievsky said, this “deed of Theodore absolutely in Greek-Byzantine taste”[51]

produced a particularly strong impression on the West, where the chroniclers painted in the very darkest colors Theodore’s savagery and cruelty.[52] The fate of Peter de Courtenay, like that of the first Latin Emperor, Baldwin, is veiled in mystery; in all likelihood, Peter died in prison. Meanwhile, the widow of Peter, Yolande, who had reached Constantinople, governed the Empire for the two years before her death (1217-19). The death of Peter de Courtenay must be regarded as the first attack of the Despotat of Epirus, that is to say, of the western Hellenic center, upon the Latin newcomers to the Balkan peninsula.

But the anti-Latin policy of Theodore Angelus did not stop there. Soon afterwards there arose the question of the Kingdom of Thessalonica (Salonika) whose king, Boniface of Montferrat, had been killed in 1207 in a fight with the Bulgars. After his death troubles and strife raged in the kingdom. As long as the energetic Latin Emperor, Henry, was alive, he could defend Thessalonica against its two most menacing foes, Bulgaria and Epirus. But after the death of Henry and of the new Latin Emperor, Peter de Courtenay, the Kindom of Thessalonica was unable to resist the aggressive policy of Theodore of Epirus.

Theodore made war against the neighboring Latin kingdom, won the victory and in 1222, without great effort, took possession of Thessalonica, the second city in importance of the former Byzantine Empire and the first fief of the Latin Empire of Constantinople. “Thus, after only eighteen years of existence, this ephemeral Lombard kingdom fell ingloriously — the first of the creations of the Fourth Crusade to succumb.”[53] Having seized Thessalonica and extended his dominions from the Adriatic to the Aegean, Theodore judged it his right to assume the imperial crown, that is to say, to become emperor of the Romans. This meant that he refused to recognize the title of John Vatatzes, who had just ascended the throne of Nicaea (1222). From the viewpoint of Theodore of Epirus, he himself, as a representative of the glorious families of the Angeli, Comneni, and Ducae, had a great advantage over John Vatatzes, a man of no very noble origin, who had mounted the throne only because he was Theodore Lascaris’ son-in-law.

The question of who should crown Theodore at Thessalonica was next raised. The metropolitan of Thessalonica declined the honor, unwilling to violate the rights of the Greek patriarch, who was then living at Nicaea and had already crowned John Vatatzes.

Accordingly Theodore turned to another hierarch, who was independent of the Orthodox patriarch of Nicaea, namely, to the autocephalous (independent of archiepiscopal or patriarchal jurisdiction) archbishop of Ochrida (Achrida) and of “all Bulgaria,” Demetrius Chomatenus (Chomatianos), whose works, the letters in particular, have great interest for the history of the epoch. He crowned and anointed Theodore who “put on the purple robe and began to wear the red shoes,”[54]

distinctive marks of the Byzantine basileus. One of the letters of Demetrius Chomatenus shows that the coronation and anointment of Theodore of Epirus was performed “with the general consent of the members of the senate, who were in the west (that is, on the territory of the state of Thessalonica and Epirus), of the clergy, and of all the large army.”[55] Another document testifies that the coronation and anointment were performed with the consent of all the bishops who lived “in that western part.”[56]

Finally, Theodore himself signed his edicts (chrysobulls) with the full title of the Byzantine Emperor: “Theodore in Christ God Basileus and Autocrat of the Romans, Ducas.”[57]

Interesting and fresh information on this subject is contained in the precious collection of the letters of the above-mentioned metropolitan of Naupactus, John Apocaucus. From his correspondence, wrote V. G. Vasilievsky, “we learn for the first time what an active part in the Epirotic movement was taken by the Greek clergy and especially by the Greek bishops. The proclamation of Theodore Angelus as the Emperor of the Romans was considered very seriously; Thessalonica, which had passed over into his hands, was contrasted with Nicaea; Constantinople was openly indicated to him as the nearest goal of his ambition and as an assured gain; in speech, thought, and writing, it was the common opinion that he was destined to enter St. Sophia and occupy there the place of the Orthodox Roman emperors where the Latin newcomers were sitting illegally. The realization of such dreams did not lie beyond the limits of possibility; it would be even easier to take Constantinople from Thessalonica than from Nicaea.”[58]

The proclamation of Theodore’s coronation as the Emperor of Thessalonica and his anointment by the archbishop Demetrius Chomatenus must have brought about a political rupture between Thessalonica and Nicaea as well as an ecclesiastical rupture between the western Greek hierarchs and the patriarchate of Nicaea, which was called the patriarchate of Constantinople.

In the course of a rather long period after the fall of the Latin kingdom of Thessalonica, several western European princes related to the family of Montferrat continued to use in the West the extinct title of king of Thessalonica. They were the so-called “titulary” kings of Thessalonica, as, after the fall of the Latin Empire in 1261, there were to be “titulary” Latin emperors in western Europe.

Thus, from 1222,[59] when the Empire of Thessalonica was proclaimed and refused to recognize the Empire of Nicaea, there were in the Christian East three empires: the two Greek Empires of Thessalonica and of Nicaea, and the Latin Empire in Constantinople which was becoming weaker every year.[60] The further history of the thirteenth century is concerned with the relations between these empires, in whose destinies the Bulgarian Kingdom of John Asen II was the decisive factor.

Thessalonica and Nicaea.

The two Greek Emperors, John Vatatzes and Theodore Angelus, had one common foe in the Emperor of Constantinople. But the Greek rulers could not come to an agreement concerning the Latin Emperor, for each of them wished at all costs to seize Constantinople for himself. In their opinion, only one of them could be the restorer of the Byzantine Empire. Therefore they had to fight separately against the Latin Empire, and finally clashed with each other.

Tidings of the growth of Nicaea and Epirus reached western Europe and aroused alarm on behalf of the Latin Empire, In a letter (May, 1224) to Blanche, the queen of France, the mother of Louis IX, Pope Honorius III, speaking of the powerful Empire of Romania and the fact “that recently there has been created a sort of new France,”

warned the queen that “the strength of the French [in the East] has decreased and is decreasing while their adversaries are growing considerably stronger, so that, unless speedy help is given the Emperor, it is to be feared that the Latins may be menaced by irreparable damage to both men and means.” Honorius III proceeded to appeal to the king of France, asking him to help the Latin Emperor.[61]

Soon after his ascension to the throne, John Vatatzes opened successful hostilities against the Latins in Asia Minor; then, by means of the fleet which was already at the disposal of the Emperor of Nicaea, he seized some islands of the Archipelago, Chios, Lesbos, Samos, and some others, and after that, having been asked by the inhabitants of Hadrianople to free them from the Latin yoke, he transferred hostilities to Europe. He sent towards Hadrianople an army which seems to have occupied this important point without a battle. To John Vatatzes the possession of Hadrianople might open the gates of Constantinople. One of the rivals seemed to be not far from his cherished goal.

But at the same time, Theodore Angelus set out from Thessalonica and conquered a major part of Thrace; then in 1225, approaching Hadrianople, he caused the army of John Vatatzes to withdraw. To the latter’s plans, the loss of Hadrianople was a severe blow. Meanwhile, Theodore seized some other places and with his troops reached the very walls of Constantinople. It was a critical moment for the Latins. The Emperor of Thessalonica was on the point of becoming the real restorer of the Byzantine Empire.

His dominions extended from the Adriatic almost to the Black Sea.

But Theodore was compelled to give up hope of further successes in his fight against the Latins, for he himself began to be seriously menaced from the north by John Asen II of Bulgaria, who also had a claim upon Constantinople.

The role of Bulgaria in the Christian East under Tsar John Asen II.

John Asen II (1218-1241), the greatest of the Asens, was the son of John Asen I.

“Though not himself a conqueror,” to quote the well-known historian Jireček, “he expanded the boundaries of the kingdom which he had received in a disorganized state, to limits that it had not reached for several centuries and which it never achieved afterward.”[62] Tolerant in religious matters, well educated, and clement, he left a good name not only among the Bulgars, but also among the Greeks, A Greek historian of the thirteenth century, George Acropolita, wrote of him: “All considered him a wonderful and happy man because he did not resort to the sword in his dealings with his subjects and did not stain himself with the murders of Romans, like the Bulgarian kings who had preceded him. Therefore he was beloved not only by the Bulgars, but also by the Romans and other peoples.”[63]

In the history of Byzantium, John Asen II was very important as the representative of the idea of the Great Bulgarian Kingdom which, it seemed, should unify the whole Orthodox population of the Balkan peninsula and establish its capital at Tsargrad (Constantinople). Such plans, undoubtedly, were opposed to the vital interests of both Greek empires and must have brought about hostilities. But the course of events seemed to facilitate the realization of the Bulgarian tsar’s plans.

On the death of the Latin Emperor, Robert de Courtenay (1228), the throne was supposed to pass to his brother, Baldwin II, a boy of eleven. The question of regency arose. Some proposed as a regent John Asen, who was related to Baldwin; and to strengthen the ties of friendship between the two countries, the betrothal of Baldwin to Asen’s daughter was suggested. Realizing all the advantages of the proposed agreement and hoping to capture Constantinople without bloodshed, Asen accepted the proposition and promised Baldwin that he would free the lands occupied by his enemies, especially Theodore of Epirus. The Latin knights and clergy, however, stubbornly resisted the candidature of a deadly foe of the Latin Empire and insisted upon the election as regent of the Empire a Frenchman, the “titulary” king of Jerusalem, who at that time was in western Europe, John of Brienne, a man of eighty.

Thus Asen’s first chance of taking Constantinople ended in failure.

After the capture of Hadrianople, the chief role in the Balkan peninsula was played by Theodore of Epirus, Emperor of Thessalonica, who concluded an alliance with Asen.

But their friendly relations did not last long. The plan concerning John Asen’s regency in Constantinople aroused serious suspicions in Theodore. He treacherously broke his alliance with Asen and opened hostilities against the Bulgars. The decisive battle was fought in 1230 at a place called Klokotinitza (Clocotimtza), now Semidje, between Hadrianople and Philippopolis, and ended in a complete victory for John Asen, who was vigorously supported by the Cuman cavalry.[64] Theodore Angelus was captured. At first mildly treated, he plotted later against Asen’s life and, on the discovery of his plot, was blinded.

The battle of Klokotinitza, in 1230, was one of the turning points in the history of the Christian East in the thirteenth century. It destroyed the western Greek Empire and the western Greek center, which seemed to be on the point of restoring the Byzantine Empire. The short-lived western empire (1222-1230) practically ceased to exist, and Manuel, the brother of Theodore Angelus, who was taken prisoner, ruled Thessalonica thereafter, some historians think, not with the title of emperor but with that of despot.

But this is doubtful: he continued to sign his decrees with red ink, as befitted the imperial dignity, and called himself in the documents emperor.[65] In the further history of the thirteenth century, Thessalonica and Epirus, two separate dominions, played no role of any importance. From that time on, the struggle for Constantinople was carried on, not between three rivals, but two: John Vatatzes and John Asen.

After the victory over Theodore of Epirus, the tsar of Bulgaria occupied Hadrianople without a struggle, as well as almost the whole of Macedonia and Albania as far as Dyrrachium (Durazzo). Thessalonica, Thessaly, and Epirus remained in the hands of the Greeks.

In an inscription on a white marble column in the Church of the Forty Martyrs at Trnovo (Bulgaria), the tsar of Bulgaria told of the results of his victory in this inflated style; “I, John Asen, in Christ God the faithful Tsar and Autocrat of the Bulgars, son of the old Tsar Asen … set forth on a march upon Romania and defeated the Greek troops, and I have captured the Emperor himself, Theodore Comnenus, with all his boyars

[nobles], and taken all the countries from Hadrianople to Durazzo, the Greek territory, as well as the Albanian and Serbian territories. The Latins [Franks] have kept only the cities round Tsargrad itself, but even they have become subject to the power of my Majesty, for they have no king but myself, and only thanks to me have they continued their existence.”[66] From a charter granted by Asen at the same time to the Ragusan merchants concerning the freedom of their commerce in his realm, it is shown that the whole of European Turkey except Constantinople, as it was before World War I, almost all Serbia, and all Bulgaria was under Asen’s influence.[67]

The Greco-Bulgarian alliance. — Next, John Asen, irritated by his failure to obtain the regency at Constantinople, took the lead in an alliance of the Orthodox rulers of the East, composed of Asen himself, John Vatatzes of Nicaea, and Manuel of Thessalonica.

This new union was directed against the Latins. One cannot help seeing in the formation of this alliance a dangerous step for the interests of the Bulgars in the Balkan peninsula. Thereby, as V. G. Vasilievsky correctly stated, Asen, the soul of the coalition,

“contributed to the friendly understanding between Manuel of Thessalonica and the Emperor of Nicaea, between the European and Asiatic Greeks, and opened the way to the Nicene master to extend his influence in the former Empire of Thessalonica and even in Asen’s own dominions. The restoration of the orthodox Eastern Empire was partly decided by this rapprochement.”[68] An important result of this alliance for the internal history of Bulgaria was the recognition there of the autocephalous Bulgarian patriarchate, which was established with the consent of the Nicene and other eastern patriarchs.

The capital of the Latin Empire, surrounded on all sides by enemies, was again in a very dangerous position, which was well realized by contemporaries. The aim of the offensive alliance against the Latins was the complete destruction of Latin domination, the expulsion of the Latins from Constantinople, and the division of their possessions between the allies. The troops of Asen and Vatatzes besieged Constantinople in 1235, by land and sea, but were compelled to withdraw without definite results. In his letter appealing to the West for help for the Emperor of Constantinople, the alarmed Pope Gregory IX declared that “Vatatzes and Asen, schismatics, who had recently concluded an alliance of impiety, had invaded with numerous Greek troops the land of our dearest son in Christ, the Emperor of Constantinople.”[69] Driven to despair, Baldwin II, the last Latin Emperor, left Constantinople and traveled through western Europe, begging rulers for help for the Empire in men and money.

For the time Constantinople was saved. One cause for the stopping of the advance of the Orthodox alliance was the gradual withdrawal of John Asen himself, who realized that in the Empire of Nicaea he had a more dangerous enemy than in the dying and weakened Latin Empire. Accordingly the king of Bulgaria changed his policy and came out as a defender of the Latin Emperor. Simultaneously with this change of political combinations, Asen took steps towards reconciliation with the papal throne, announcing his faithfulness to the Catholic church and asking the pope to send a legate for negotiations. Thus the short Greco-Bulgarian alliance of the fourth decade of the thirteenth century came to its end.

Alliance of John Vatatzes and Frederick II Hohenstaufen.

With the name of John Vatatzes is connected the interesting question of the friendly relations between the two widely separated rulers, the Emperor of Nicaea and the western Emperor, Frederick II Hohenstaufen.

Frederick II, the most remarkable of all the Germanic kings of the Middle Ages, united under his power Germany and the Kingdom of Sicily. The latter, in the person of the Emperor Henry VI, at the end of the twelfth century had menaced Byzantium with fatal danger. Frederick had spent the years of his childhood and youth under the southern sky of Sicily, at Palermo, where had lived the Greeks, later the Arabs, and then the Normans; he spoke Italian, Greek, and Arabic beautifully and, probably, at least in his youth, he spoke German badly. He regarded religious problems much more coolly than his contemporaries. Under the influence of the eastern scholars, Arabs and Jews, large numbers of whom were at Frederick’s court in Sicily, he became an enthusiast about science and philosophy and he founded the University of Naples and patronized the medical school at Salerno, a school famous in the Middle Ages. In a word, in mind and education Frederick greatly surpassed his contemporaries, and they did not always understand him. The time of Frederick II may be designated as a “prologue to the Renaissance.” In the middle of the nineteenth century, a French historian wrote that Frederick II “gave the impulse to the Renaissance, which prepared the fall of the Middle Ages and the coming of modern times.”[70] He was “a man of creative and daring genius.”[71] A few years ago a German historian said; “In his universality, he was a real Renaissance genius on the imperial throne and at the same time an Emperor of genius.”[72] A subject of perennial interest to the historian, Emperor Frederick II represents in many respects a riddle which has not yet been solved.[73]

Having inherited the conception of the imperial power as unlimited and granted by God and comprehending supreme sovereignty over the world, Frederick was a sworn enemy of the papacy and of its doctrine of the superiority of the papal power to that of the kings. The struggle of the popes with Frederick II was stubborn; three times the Emperor was excommunicated and he died wearied and exhausted by the persistent struggle, in which the popes, putting aside any spiritual aim, were revenging themselves on their personal enemies, this “viper brood of the Hohenstaufens,” which they were determined to exterminate.

In such a nature as Frederick’s, political plans and motives were predominant over ecclesiastical. Frederick’s hostile attitude toward the papacy extended to all that had the support of the popes. Hence, as to the Latin Empire in the East, in which the papacy saw a means of union between the western and eastern churches, the interests of Frederick and John Vatatzes were the same. Frederick was hostile toward the Latin Empire, because he saw in it one of the elements of papal power and influence; John Vatatzes considered the pope an adversary who, by refusing to recognize the Orthodox patriarchate of Constantinople established at that time at Nicaea, was creating a serious obstacle to Vatatzes’ aim of taking possession of Constantinople. Close relations between the two emperors began at the end of the fourth decade of the thirteenth century. Frederick did not hesitate to make an “alliance with the Greeks, deadly enemies both of the papacy and of the Latin Empire.”[74]

Even earlier Theodore Angelus of Epirus had held friendly correspondence with the western Emperor and had even received from him financial support, for which Pope Gregory IX had excommunicated and anathematized both Frederick and the Despot of Epirus. It is clear that for Frederick’s political combinations, the question of religion, either Orthodox or Catholic, had no importance.

But in their hostility towards the papacy, Frederick and John Vatatzes were pursuing different aims. The former wished the popes to renounce their claim to secular power; the latter wished that, by means of some compromises, the West should recognize the eastern church and that thereby the Latin patriarchate at Constantinople should lose its reason to exist. John Vatatzes could then hope that the Latin Empire would quietly disappear. The pope also differed in his attitude toward the two sudden allies. In Frederick he saw a disobedient son of the Church, who encroached upon the prerogatives of the “vicars of Christ” and the heirs of St. Peter, inalienable from the papal standpoint. John Vatatzes was, in the eyes of the pope, a schismatic, who hindered the fulfillment of the cherished dream of the papacy, that is, the reunion of the churches. The allies came to an agreement. Frederick II promised Vatatzes to free Constantinople from the Latins and return it to the legal emperor; for his part the Emperor of Nicaea pledged himself to become the vassal of the western Emperor and restore the union between the two churches. It is, of course, difficult to say how sincere these promises were.

The relations between Frederick and John Vatatzes were so close that, at the end of the fourth decade of the thirteenth century, the Greek troops fought in Italy in Frederick’s army. But the relations of the two antipapal emperors became still closer after the death of the first wife of John Vatatzes, Irene, daughter of Theodore I Lascaris.

The widower-Emperor, said a source, “being unable to bear his loneliness”[75] married Constance of Hohenstaufen, the daughter of Frederick II, then only eleven or twelve years old, who, when she joined the Greek church, took the Greek name of Anna. There exists a long poem written by Nicolaus Irenikos (Eirenikos) on the occasion of the nuptial festivities at Nicaea; the first two lines of the poem are:

Around the lovely cypress-tree, the ivy gently windeth;

The Empress is the cypress-tree, my Emperor is the ivy.[76]

Constance-Anna survived her husband by many years, which were full of vicissitudes and adventures. She ended her days in the Spanish city of Valencia, where, in the little church of St. John-of-the-Hospital, the coffin of the former basilissa (empress) of Nicaea has been preserved. It bears the epitaph: “Here lies the lady Constance, the august Empress of Greece.”[77]

Frederick’s ecclesiastical ideas, which give some scholars grounds for comparing him to the king of England, Henry VIII, under whom the reformation in England began,[78] are reflected in his correspondence with John Vatatzes. In one of his letters Frederick stated that he was actuated not only by his personal affection for Vatatzes, but also by his general zeal for supporting the principles of monarchic government:

“All of us, kings and princes of the earth, especially zealous for the orthodox

[orthodoxe] religion and faith, cherish an enmity towards the bishops and an inward opposition to the primates of the Church.” Then, inveighing against the abuses of liberty and the privileges of the western clergy, the Emperor exclaimed: “O happy Asia!

O happy Powers in the East! they do not fear the arms of their subjects nor dread the interference of the pontiffs.”[79] Despite his official allegiance to the Catholic faith, Frederick showed himself remarkably kind to eastern Orthodoxy; in one of his letters to Vatatzes which is preserved both in Greek and in Latin, there is this passage: “How! this so-called great archpriest [that is, Pope; in Latin sacerdotum princeps; in Greek αρχιερευς], excommunicating every day Your Majesty by name in the presence of all men and all your subject Romans (in Latin Graecos), shamelessly calling heretics the most orthodox Romans, from whom Christian faith has reached the extreme bounds of the Universe…”[80] In another letter to the Despot of Epirus Frederick wrote: “We desire to defend not only our own right, but also that of our friendly and beloved neighbours, whom pure and sincere love in Christ has united with us, and especially the Greeks, our close friends… [The Pope calls] the most pious and orthodox Greeks most impious and heretics.”[81]

The friendly intercourse between Frederick and Vatatzes continued until

Frederick’s death, though in his last years he was alarmed by the negotiations between Nicaea and Rome and by the exchange of embassies between them. For this reason, in his letter to Vatatzes, Frederick blamed “in a fatherly manner the behavior of the son,”

who, “without the paternal suggestion, had sent an ambassador to the Pope.” Not without irony Frederick wrote further: “We desire to do or undertake nothing without your advice” in the affairs of the East, “for these countries which are your neighbors are better known to your Majesty than to us.”[82] Frederick warned Vatatzes that the Roman bishops are “not archpriests of Christ, but rapacious wolves and wild beasts devouring the people of Christ.”[83]

After Frederick’s death, and especially after his natural son, Manfred, had become king of Sicily, relations changed, and Manfred came out as an enemy of the Empire of Nicaea. In a word, after John Vatatzes’ death, in 1254, “the alliance of which Frederick II had dreamt, was nothing but a memory.”[84]

It cannot be said that the alliance between the two emperors brought about important results; but it may be pointed out that John Vatatzes, relying on the friendly support of the western Emperor, must have had a surer hope for the final success of his policy, that is, the taking of Constantinople.

The Mongol invasion and the alliance against the Mongols.

In the fourth and fifth decades of the thirteenth century there appeared from the East the menacing danger of the invasion of the Mongols, namely, the Tartars (in Byzantine sources, “Tahars, Tatars, Atars”). The hordes of Batu (Baty), one of the descendants of the famous Khan Temuchin, who had. assumed the title of Jenghiz Khan, i.e., “Grand Khan,” rushed into present-day European Russia and in their destructive and irresistible onslaught seized Kiev in 1240, then crossed the Carpathians, and arrived at Bohemia before they were forced to retrace their march to the Russian steppes. At the same time the other Mongol group, marching in a more southerly direction, conquered all Armenia with Erzerum and invaded Asia Minor, menacing the Sultanate of Rum or Iconium and the weak Empire of Trebizond. Under the pressure of common danger from the Mongols sprang the alliance of the three states of Asia Minor: the Sultanate of Iconium, the Empire of Nicaea, and the Empire of Trebizond, The Seljuqs and the military forces of Trebizond were defeated by the Mongols. After that, the Sultan of Iconium was compelled to relieve himself by paying tribute and supplying annually horses, hunting dogs, and the like. The Emperor of Trebizond, realizing the impossibility of fighting the Mongols, made a speedy peace with them and, on condition of paying an annual tribute, became a Mongol vassal. Fortunately for the Seljuqs and John Vatatzes, the Mongols occupied themselves with other military enterprises and temporarily suspended their onslaught upon the West, which enabled the Emperor of Nicaea to take decisive measures in the Balkan peninsula.

From the example of the alliance mentioned above it is obvious that in the thirteenth century alliances between Christians and infidels did not trouble their participants; before the common danger the Orthodox emperors of Nicaea and Trebizond came to a friendly understanding with the Muhammedan Sultan of Iconium.

In connection with the Tartar invasion two stories given by a western historian of the thirteenth century, Matthew of Paris, reflect some rumors circulating at that time in Europe.[85] In both, Matthew said that in 1248 two Mongol envoys were sent to the papal court and cordially received by Pope Innocent IV, who, like many other members of the Catholic church, hoped to convert the Mongols to Christianity. But in the first version he said also that at that time many supposed that the letter of the Mongol prince to the pope contained the proposition of the prince to make war against John Vatatzes (Battacium), “a Greek, son-in-law of Frederick, schismatic, and disobedient

[son] of the papal curia; and this proposition was supposed not to be unpleasant to the Pope.” In his Historia Anglorum Matthew said that the pope directed the Mongol envoys to notify the king of the Tartars that, if the latter had adopted Christianity, he should march with all his troops upon John Vatatzes, “a Greek, son-in-law of Frederick, schismatic, and rebel against the pope and Emperor Baldwin, and after that upon Frederick himself who had risen against the Roman curia.” But the Tartar envoys, not liking to encourage “the mutual hatred of Christians,” answered through their interpreters, that they were not authorized to impose such conditions upon their master, and they feared that on receiving this news he would be very angry.

Of course, neither of these versions, especially the second one, which reflects a kind of thirteenth century European gossip, has any real historical value,[86] and they cannot be treated as historical fact, as W. Miller regarded them. Referring to the second version, Miller wrote: “Having given the Holy Father this lesson in Christianity, the infidels returned to their own savage country.”[87] But it is very interesting to emphasize the fact that the political power and importance of John Vatatzes was widely and thoroughly appreciated and played a certain part, at least in the opinion of western European writers, in the negotiations between the pope and the Mongol envoys. The envoys were received with great esteem and attention by Innocent IV, who wrote to

“their illustrious king, and to the nobles and to all the princes and barons of the Tartar army” a long letter, in which he urged them to adopt the Christian faith.[88] Of course, the name of John Vatatzes was not mentioned in this papal letter. Meanwhile John Vatatzes, relieved from the danger of Mongol invasion from the East, concentrated all his attention on the Balkan peninsula and obtained brilliant results.

Significance of the external policy of John Vatatzes.

With the death of John Asen II, in 1241, the brilliant epoch of the Second Bulgarian Kingdom passed away, and Asen’s weak and inexperienced successors could not maintain his conquests. With his death collapsed the second attempt of the Bulgars to found in the Balkan peninsula a great Greco-Slavonic Empire with its center at Constantinople; for both Simeon in the tenth century, and the Asens, Kalojan and John II, in the thirteenth century, this task proved to be too great. The last attempt of this kind conceived and organized on a larger scale by Slavs, that is, by the Serbs, was to be made in the fourteenth century.

Taking advantage of the decline of Bulgaria, John Vatatzes crossed with his army to the European coast and in a few months took away from Bulgaria all the regions of Macedonia and Thrace which had been conquered by Asen II. Pursuing his march, Vatatzes advanced towards Thessalonica, where anarchy prevailed, and in 1246, without difficulty, took possession of this city. The state of Thessalonica ceased to exist.

In the ensuing year Vatatzes seized some Thracian cities which were still under Latin rule. The Emperor of Nicaea drew near Constantinople. The Despotat of Epirus submitted to Vatatzes’ suzerainty. There were no more rivals in Vatatzes’ aspiration for the shores of the Bosphorus.

Towards the end of Vatatzes’ reign his dominions, both direct and vassal, extended from the Black Sea to the Adriatic. Leaving out of the question middle Greece and the Peloponnesus, nothing but Constantinople was lacking for the restoration of the Empire.

In 1254 John Vatatzes died at the age of sixty-two, ending a reign of thirty-three years. With rare unanimity the sources praise him. His son and successor, Theodore II Lascaris, wrote in a panegyric: “He has unified the Ausonian land, which was divided into very many parts by foreign and tyrannic rulers, Latin, Persian, Bulgarian, Scythian and others, punished robbers and protected his land … He has made our country inaccessible to enemies.”[89] Byzantine historians unanimously glorify John Vatatzes.[90] Even if there is some exaggeration by the sources in their estimate of the Emperor of Nicaea, John Vatatzes must be considered a talented and energetic politician, and the chief creator of the restored Byzantine Empire.

It is interesting that the name of John Vatatzes was so beloved and esteemed by the people that some time after his death, he became a saint in popular tradition; miracles began to be connected with his memory and The Life of St. John the Merciful was composed, a sort of popular canonization. The memory of John Vatatzes has not been officially recognized by the Greek church, and his cult confined itself to the narrow limits of a Lydian city in Asia Minor, Magnesia, where the Emperor was buried. This life of Vatatzes is not to be confused with a biography of a saint of the seventh century, John the Merciful, as sometimes happens, and scholars vary in opinion concerning the place and time of its composition. Even at the present time the clergy and population of Magnesia and its surroundings gather annually on November 4 in the local church and honor the memory of the late Emperor John the Merciful.[91] The Orthodox calendar gives under November 4 the name of “John Ducas Vatadzt.”[92]

The external activity of Vatatzes was extremely important because, by eliminating gradually the pretenders to the role of restorer of the Empire — the rulers of Thessalonica, Epirus, and Bulgaria — he brought under his power so much territory as practically to signify the restoration of the Byzantine Empire. The main role in the restoration belonged to John Vatatzes, and in 1261 Michael Palaeologus only profited by the results of the persistence and energy of the best Nicene Emperor. The generations after John Vatatzes looked back upon him as “the Father of the Greeks.”[93]

Theodore and John Lascaris and the restoration of the Byzantine Empire.

The last rulers of the Empire of Nicaea were the son and grandson of John Vatatzes, Theodore II Lascaris (1254-1258) and John IV Lascaris (1258-1261). Theodore, thirty-three years old, “seated, according to custom, on a shield,”[94] was proclaimed emperor with the consent of the troops and nobility.

In spite of his weak health, Theodore, before ascending the throne, had devoted all his time to studies and literature. His enlightened father had done his best, and Theodore’s education had been carefully supervised by the best scholars of the epoch, with Nicephorus Blemmydes and George Acropolita at their head.

On his accession to the throne, Theodore II, like his father, displayed the energetic political activity which made him sometimes forget his studies, even his favorite philosophy. Realizing the importance of external political relations, he turned his chief attention to the forming of a powerful army. Theodore wrote: “I have one truth, one goal, one desire — to gather together the flock of God and protect it from hostile wolves.”[95] Believing that the Greeks had to rely on their own strength and not on foreign alliances or on foreign mercenaries, Theodore, perhaps, was almost the only

“Byzantine” Emperor who paid attention to the “hellenization” of the army, contrary to the established custom of making use of the mercenary troops of foreign peoples.[96]

In 1258, the young Emperor breathed his last in the prime of life (36 years old), having before death exchanged his imperial robes for those of a monk. He left to his successor the vast conquests of John Vatatzes intact. This active and philosophically educated Emperor lived and worked in the belief that history would pass judgment upon him. In one of his letters he said: “The judgment of history will be passed by the generations to come.”[97] The special historian of the time of Theodore II, not without some exaggeration, wrote: “Theodore died very young; otherwise Hellenism might have hoped for better days under the wise rule of the Emperor who had exerted all his energy in order to found the Greek Empire upon a solid and steady basis.”[98] But this ambition of Theodore remained a theory. In reality the mercenary troops representing different nationalities took an important part in the life of the Empire of Nicaea in general, and during Theodore’s reign in particular.[99]

In external activity, Theodore undertook two hard Bulgarian campaigns. On the news of Vatatzes’ death the Bulgarian tsar, Michael Asen, seized the opportunity to recover the provinces lost under Vatatzes, and it was feared that all the latter’s European conquests might again become Bulgarian. In spite of many difficulties and the cowardice and treachery of his generals, however, the two Bulgarian campaigns ended successfully for Theodore, and, through the mediation of the Russian prince Rostislav, Michael Asen’s father-in-law, a treaty was made. Bulgarians and Greeks received their former frontiers, and one Bulgarian fortress was even ceded to Theodore.[100]

Theodore’s relations to the Despot of Epirus in connection with the proposed marriage between the despot’s son and Theodore’s daughter, resulted in Theodore’s receiving the important seaport Dyrrachium (Durazzo), on the Adriatic, and the fortress Serbia (Servia), near the confines of Epirus and Bulgaria. Dyrrachium “was the western outpost of the Nicene Empire, and necessarily a thorn in the side of the despots of Epirus.”[101]

In Asia Minor, the Seljuq Turks were seriously menaced by the Mongols, who succeeded in making the sultan their tributary. The situation was delicate and complicated, because Theodore had, though undecidedly, supported the sultan in his struggle against the Mongols, and the sultan, “having the heart of a shy deer,”[102]

took refuge as a fugitive with Theodore. But a military conflict between Nicaea and the Mongols was avoided, and a Mongol embassy was sent to Theodore. The reception which took place, probably at Magnesia, was exceptionally brilliant and imposing; Theodore’s chief idea was to impress the Tartars, of whom he was afraid. The Emperor received the ambassadors, seated on a lofty throne, sword in hand. Byzantine historians gave a detailed account of the reception.[103]

A recent historian remarked that Theodore “was, in a word, a mass of nerves, an

‘interesting case’ for a modern mental specialist,” and his “brief reign of less than four years did not enable him to make a great mark upon the history of his time.”[104]

Finally, it has been said lately that “in Theodore was particularly felt what may be called enlightened absolutism.”[105] Of course, Theodore’s reign was too short for definite judgment to be passed on its significance. But in the history of Nicaea his name will always be honorably remembered for his continuance of his father’s successful external policy and for his own breadth of learning.

Theodore’s only son and successor, who was not quite eight years old, John IV

(1258-61) could not, even with the help of the appointed regent, George Muzalon, master the complicated affairs of the Empire. At this time the crafty and ambitious Michael Palaeologus, John Vatatzes’ relative, “a restless intriguer and an infamous hypocrite, but an able officer,”[106] played a decisive role. Several times suspected of plots and treason by Vatatzes and Theodore II, and occupying, nevertheless, high offices, he had in times of danger successfully withdrawn and even fled for a time to the court of the Sultan of Iconium. Stormy times demanded a strong rule. Michael Palaeologus profited skillfully by circumstances and, in 1259, was crowned emperor.

The chief external danger to the Balkan possessions of the Empire of Nicaea arose from the Despot of Epirus, who succeeded in forming an alliance against the Empire consisting of the despot himself, the king of Sicily, Manfred, a relative of the despot and the natural son of Frederick II, and the prince of Achaia, William de Villehardouin.

Michael Palaeologus gained some military success against the coalition, and the decisive battle was fought in 1259 in western Macedonia, in the plain of Pelagonia, near the city of Castoria. Turks, Cumans, and Slavs, as well as Greeks, fought in Michael’s army. The battle of Pelagonia or Castoria ended in the complete defeat of the allies. The prince of Achaia was captured. The well-armed troops of the western knights fled before the light-armed Bithynian, Slavonic, and eastern troops. “Perhaps it was the first time that Turks fought against Greeks on Greek soil, and on this occasion in Greek service.”[107] A contemporary, George Acropolita, gave this judgment of the event:

“Under imperial advice our troops have got so great a victory that the fame of it has passed over all the ends of the earth; of such victories the sun has seen but few.”[108] In his autobiography, which is preserved, Michael Palaeologus writes concerning this battle: “Along with them [with the traitors to the Roman state, i.e., the Despot of Epirus and his associates] and their allies, who had as their leader the Prince of Achaia, whom have I vanquished? Alamans, Sicilians, and Italians who came from Apulia, the land of the Iapygians and Brundusium, from Bithynia, Euboea, and the Peloponnesus.”[109]

The battle of Castoria had a decisive significance for the restoration of the Byzantine Empire. The dominions of the Despot of Epirus were reduced to his hereditary land in Epirus. The Latin Empire could not rely on the defeated Principality of Achaia, and was itself under the direction of the feeble and apathetic Baldwin II.

Meanwhile, in order to make still more sure the success of the final attack on Constantinople, Michael Palaeologus concluded a treaty with the Genoese. The commercial interests of Genoa and Venice conflicted everywhere in the Levant. After the Fourth Crusade and the formation of the Latin Empire, Venice had gained quite exceptional trade power in the Latin dominions of the Levant, and Genoa could not reconcile herself to this state of affairs. Realizing this, Michael came to an agreement with the Genoese; although they knew that an understanding with the schismatic Greeks would evoke the severe censure of the pope and the West in general, they were so desirous of driving out their Venetian rivals from the East that they concluded the treaty with Michael.

In March, 1261, at Nymphaeum, was signed the very important treaty which granted to the Genoese the commercial supremacy in the Levant so long enjoyed by the Venetians. This was a real offensive and defensive alliance against Venice.[110] Free trade forever was granted the Genoese throughout the present and future provinces of the Empire. Very important grants at Constantinople and in the islands of Crete and Euboea, if Michael “by the mercy of God” should recover them, were included in the treaty; Smyrna, “a city fit for commercial use, having a good port and abounding in all goods,” was assigned to the absolute control of the Genoese; commercial stations with churches and consuls were to be established in the islands of Chios and Lesbos, and in some other places; the Black Sea (majus mare) was to be closed to all foreign merchants except the Genoese and Pisans, the faithful subjects of Michael. On their side the Genoese pledged themselves to grant free trade to the Emperor’s subjects, and to support him with their fleet, provided that the ships were not employed against the pope and the friends of Genoa. The Genoese fleet was extremely important in Michael Palaeologus’ plans to reconquer Constantinople. This treaty was ratified at Genoa a few days before Constantinople was taken by Michael’s troops. This was a brilliant victory for Genoa which, after Saladin’s victories in Syria, had suffered grievous losses. It was a new page in their economic history. “The vigor of the thirteenth century colonial life offers a sharp contrast with the halting, tentative character of that of the twelfth.

Naturally this is the result of wide experience, of better organization, and especially of the amazing developments of trade.”[111]

On July 25,1261, without striking a blow, the troops of Michael took possession of Constantinople. Michael himself was at that time in Asia Minor, where he received the news that Constantinople had been taken. He set out immediately and at the beginning of August entered the city, cheerfully greeted by the populace; shortly after, his second coronation was performed in St. Sophia. Baldwin II fled to Euboea (Negroponte). The Latin patriarch and the chief members of the Catholic clergy had time enough to leave the city before it was taken. By Michael’s order, the unfortunate John IV Lascaris was blinded. Michael Palaeologus became the restorer of the Byzantine Empire, Michael VIII, the founder of the last Byzantine dynasty of the Palaeologi, by his success in taking advantage of what had been prepared by the emperors of Nicaea. The capital was transferred from Nicaea to Constantinople.

The fugitive Baldwin proceeded from Euboea to Thebes and Athens. There, “on the venerable rock of Athens was played the last pitiful scene in the brief drama of the Latin Empire of Constantinople. Then Baldwin sailed from the Peiraeus for Monemvasia; and leaving behind him not a few of his noble retinue in the Morea, set out for Europe, to solicit aid for his lost cause and to play the sorry part of an emperor in exile.”[112]

Thus, the Latin Empire, in the severe judgment of a German historian, Gregorovius,

“a creation of western European crusading knights, of the selfish trade-policy of the Venetians, and of the hierarchic idea of the papacy, fell after a miserable existence of fifty-seven years, leaving behind it no other trace than destruction and anarchy. That deformed chivalrous feudal state of the Latins belongs to the most worthless phenomena of history. The sophistical maxim of the German philosopher who asserted that all that exists is rational, becomes here merely an absurdity.”[113] Another German historian remarked: “The Latin ignominy belongs to the past.”[114]

While Western sources, almost without exception, confine themselves to the mere mention of the taking of Constantinople by Michael and of the expulsion of the Franks, Greek sources express great joy on this occasion. George Acropolita, for example, wrote: “Because of this fact all the Roman people were then in merriment, great cheerfulness, and inexpressible joy; there was no one who did not rejoice and exult.”[115] Still a discordant note sounded in the words of a high official under Michael Paleologus, a teacher, commentator of Homer, and jurist, Senakherim, who after the taking of Constantinople by the Greeks exclaimed: “What do I hear! This has been reserved to our days! What have we done that we should live through and see such disasters? For the rest, no one can hope for good, since the Romans walk again in the city!”[116]

In summary, most scholars view with condemnation the behavior of the Latins during their domination of Constantinople. Indeed, considering the sack of the capital by the crusaders, the “dispersal” of its numberless treasures throughout Europe, and the oppression of the Greek Orthodox Church, the hostile attitude of contemporary Greek sources and of most modern writers is understandable. Recently, however, a voice has been raised in extenuation of the Latins, that of an eminent American professor, E. H. Swift, who has dealt with the behavior of the Latins in regard to the famous and unique building of the “Great Church” of Saint Sophia.

In 1907 E. M. Antoniades, the Greek author of a detailed monograph on St. Sophia, wrote: “The fifty-seven years of the Latin occupation constituted the worst and most dangerous period of the entire history of the church, which was saved only by the recovery of the city by the Greeks in 1261.”[117] Professor Swift questioned this opinion. He believed that it may be inferred from a number of historical sources as well as from archeological evidence observable in the building as it stands today that quite the opposite seems to be the case. A number of earthquakes before 1204 had rendered the structural condition of the church extremely precarious before the crusaders took possession of it. Since they found it in a dangerously weakened state, they shortly took adequate measure to assure the stability of their newly acquired cathedral, repairing it in various ways, particularly by the erection of buttresses. So, Swift concluded, “the Latins were not as black as they usually are painted, but rather … became in fact the saviours of one of the greatest monuments of the Greek architectural genius.”[118]

Swift’s observation is an interesting contribution to the history of the building, and it is quite likely that the crusaders contributed appreciably to the preservation of this unique structure. But the fact remains well established that they mercilessly robbed the interior of St. Sophia.

Ecclesiastical relations with the Nicene and Latin empires.

The taking of Constantinople by the crusaders in 1204 took place against the will of Pope Innocent III. But after the foundation of the Latin Empire the pope clearly realized that the new state of things in the Near East, however disagreeable it might have been at first to the papal dignity, nevertheless had opened wide horizons for the further strengthening of Catholicism and the papacy. The main ecclesiastical problem of the epoch consisted in establishing intercourse between the eastern and western churches in connection with the political changes which had taken place in the Christian East. In the Latin dominions established by the crusaders on the territory of the Byzantine Empire, Catholicism was to be planted. The first task of the papacy was to organize the Catholic church in the regions conquered by the Latins, and then to clear up its relation to the secular power and to the local Greek population, both laic and ecclesiastic. The second task was to render subject to Rome, as far as ecclesiastical matters were concerned, the Greek regions which after 1204 had remained independent and at the head of which stood the state of Nicaea. In a word, the problem of the union with the Greeks became the keystone of all ecclesiastical relations of the thirteenth century.

At the beginning of the political existence of the Latin Empire the position of the pope was very complicated and delicate. According to the treaty concluded between the crusaders and Venice it was stipulated that, if the Emperor had been elected from the Franks, the Latin patriarch should be elected from the Venetian clergy. The interests of the Roman curia were not taken into consideration, for in the treaty there was no suggestion either that the pope should participate in the election of the patriarch or that any revenues should go into the treasury of the curia.

In the letter of the first Latin Emperor to the pope, Baldwin wrote of “the miraculous success” of the crusaders, of the fall of Constantinople, of the lawlessness of the Greeks, “who were producing nausea in God himself,” of a hope to go on a crusade to the Holy Land in the future, etc.,[119] but he did not mention the election of the patriarch. And when the new clergy of St. Sophia, consisting of Venetians, had elected to the patriarchate a Venetian noble, Thomas Morosini, the pope, though he at first proclaimed the election un-canonical, nevertheless was forced to yield and, “at his own initiative,” confirmed this choice.

The problem of the relation of the papal throne to the Greek clergy who remained within the Latin dominions is also interesting. It is known that a great number of bishops and the majority of the lower clergy did not abandon their places. In this case the pope held a conciliatory policy, allowing the Greek bishops to be ordained in the eparchies with an exclusively Greek population, and granting privileges concerning the preservation of the Greek rites and the church service, conceding, for example, the use of leavened bread for the Eucharist. However, the papal legates appeared in the Balkan peninsula and Asia Minor and tried to persuade the Greek clergy to join the union.

In 1204, a papal legate made the first attempt to obtain the consent of the Greek clergy to the recognition of the pope as the head of their church; the negotiations were held in St. Sophia, at Constantinople, and were of no avail.[120] A very important role in the negotiations of that time was played by Nicholas Mesarites, later bishop of Ephesus, whose personality and activity were first elucidated by A. Heisenberg. In the years 1205-6 the negotiations continued their course. Nicholas of Otranto, abbot of Casole, of southern Italy, took part in them as an interpreter; holding the orthodox opinions, he recognized, like the whole church of southern Italy of that time, the papal primate and was an adherent of the union. Nicholas of Otranto, who has left many poems and prose works, almost all of them unpublished, deserves, as Heisenberg justly remarked, a special monograph.[121] The position of the Greek clergy became more complicated when in 1206 the patriarch of Constantinople, John Camaterus, died in Bulgaria, having fled there before the crusaders. With the permission of Emperor Henry, the Greek clergy of the Latin Empire applied to Innocent III for authorization to elect a new patriarch, and Henry allowed them to choose the patriarch provided they would recognize the overlordship of the pope. But the Greeks wished neither subordination to the Holy See nor reconciliation with it. Therefore nothing came of the disputation held at Constantinople, in the same year, 1206, when at the head of the Latins stood the Latin patriarch, Thomas Morosini and, leading the Greeks, Nicholas Mesarites. The Greeks of the Latin Empire began to turn to Theodore Lascaris.[122] In 1208 a new Orthodox patriarch, Michael Autoreanus, was elected at Nicaea, who crowned Theodore Lascaris the Emperor of Nicaea. This was a fact of great moment not only for Nicaea, but also for the Greeks of the Latin Empire.

The negotiations of 1214 held at Constantinople and in Asia Minor with the participation of Cardinal Pelagius, his delegates, and Nicholas Mesarites broke up without any result. Nicholas Mesarites, at that time metropolitan of Ephesus with the title of the exarch of all Asia, was profoundly discontented with the haughty reception accorded to him by Pelagius in Constantinople.[123]

From the point of view of influence on the Latin clergy in the East, Innocent III, towards the end of his pontificate, obtained a brilliant victory: the Lateran Council, in 1215, recognized by the western church as an ecumenical council, proclaimed the pope the head of all the eastern Latin patriarchs, that is to say, those of Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Antioch, who from that time on were hierarchically under the jurisdiction of the Holy See.

But Innocent III was entirely disappointed in his idea that Constantinople would engage in the promised crusade. Secular, political, and international interests and problems absorbed the new Latin Empire to such an extent that the Latin rulers entirely put aside the plan of a crusade to the Holy Land and Innocent III began to aim at forming a new crusade from Europe, not through Constantinople.

The papal hopes were not satisfied by the external subjugation of the eastern Church to Rome; for complete victory a religious union was necessary, the spiritual subjugation of the Greek Orthodox population. But this could be attained neither by Innocent III nor by his successors.

The Empire of Nicaea had an Orthodox Greek patriarch of her own, who, residing at Nicaea, continued to bear the title of the patriarch of Constantinople. But the population of Nicaea regarded the patriarchal throne transferred to them as “alien and annexed,”[124] and hoped that it would be later restored to its original place in Constantinople. The first Nicene ruler, Theodore Lascaris, was not recognized by Innocent III as emperor or even as despot and was called in his letter merely “the noble man Theodore Lascaris” (nobilt viro Theodora Lascari).[125] In this letter to Lascaris, the pope, though he does not justify the violence of the crusaders at the taking of Constantinople, nevertheless refers to the fact that the Latins were the tool of Providence in punishing the Greeks for their refusal to accept the headship of the Roman church and that it would be desirable now for the Greeks to become obedient subjects of the Holy See and the Latin Emperor. But this papal admonition was of no avail.

Interest in the ecclesiastical relations in the Empire of Nicaea lies in the attempts by conferences and correspondence to find ways and means of closer intercourse between the two churches. In the very Empire of Nicaea there were men such as the metropolitan of Ephesus, Nicholas Mesarites, who were inclined to establish intercourse and agreement with the Roman church; but the Greek population never wished to accept the union. John III Vatatzes seemed to be particularly favorably disposed towards the recognition of the union, but he was influenced only by political speculations. First, he was alarmed by the election of the brave John of Brienne, formerly king of Jerusalem, first as regent and then as joint emperor with Baldwin II of Constantinople, at that time a minor. John of Brienne backed by the pope could carry out an aggressive policy against the Empire of Nicaea. Therefore, Vatatzes endeavored to divert the pope from his interest in the Latin Empire.

In 1232 five Franciscan monks (Minorites) arrived in Nicaea from Turkish captivity and opened negotiations with Patriarch Germanus II on the union of the churches. John Vatatzes and Germanus II treated them well, and the Minorites brought to Pope Gregory IX a patriarchal letter, in which the patriarch offered to the pope for consideration the subject of the union.[126] Gregory IX acquiesced willingly in this proposal and in 1234 sent to Nicaea several delegates. The council was held first at Nicaea, and then transferred to Nymphaeum. In the disputation Nicephorus Blemmydes took a leading part.[127] The course of the discussions at the Council of 1234 is very well known, because there is a detailed official report.[128] But the negotiations met with failure, and the papal delegates were forced to withdraw, loaded with the curses of the Greeks gathered there, who shouted: “You are heretics. As we have found you heretics and excommunicated, so we leave you now as heretics and excommunicated!” In their turn the Catholic delegates cried to the Greeks: “You are also heretics!”[129]

At the Council of Lyons, in 1245, Gregory’s successor, Pope Innocent IV, announced that he was afflicted “about the schism of Romania, that is to say, of the Greek Church which, in our own days only a few years ago, had arrogantly and foolishly seceded and averted itself from the bosom of its mother as if from its step-mother.”[130] “Two states,” Luchaire wrote, “two religions, and two races, always deeply separated from each other, were maintaining towards each other the same attitude of enmity and distrust.”[131] John Vatatzes’ alliance with Frederick II Hohenstaufen strained still farther the relations between Nicaea and the papacy, although towards the end of Frederick’s reign negotiations between Nicaea and Rome were reopened and an exchange of embassies took place.

But after Frederick’s death, in the last years of John Vatatzes’ reign, there seemed to come a decisive moment for the union of the Churches. The Emperor had submitted his conditions — the surrender to him of Constantinople, the restoration of the Constantinopolitan patriarchate, and the withdrawal from the city of the Latin Emperor and the Latin clergy — and Innocent IV acceded to them. For the restoration of the unity of the Christian world the pope was ready to sacrifice the state created by the crusaders. For the return of the capital to the Empire Vatatzes was ready to sacrifice the independence of the Greek church. Both sides definitely abandoned their traditional policy. But this agreement remained only a project. A very important letter of the patriarch of Nicaea to Innocent IV, written in 1253, gave to the Greek delegates full power to conclude with the pope the negotiations for union.[132] But in 1254 both John Vatatzes and Innocent IV died, and their agreement, one of the most significant pages in the history of the negotiations for union between the East and West, remained only a project which was never realized.

Theodore II Lascaris, Vatatzes’ son and successor, professed to believe that he as Emperor should guide the ecclesiastical policy, take part in church matters, and preside at the ecclesiastical councils. Accordingly he did not desire a patriarch of great energy and strong will. Therefore, the candidature of Blemmydes was finally rejected, and Arsenius was promoted from layman to patriarch in three days.[133] Under Theodore II the relations of Nicaea with the papal curia were closely tied up with the political concerns of the Emperor; as for his father, the union with Rome was for Theodore merely a step to Constantinople.

It is usually related that, in 1256, Pope Alexander IV suddenly sent a bishop of Orvieto, in Italy, to Nicaea to resume the negotiations for union interrupted by Vatatzes’ death.[134] This sudden decision of the pope seemed to have no particular reason and remained unmotivated. But now, on the basis of some new documents, it is known that the initiative in resuming negotiations belonged not to the pope, but to the Emperor of Nicaea.[135] In 1256, Theodore sent to the pope two nobles who begged Alexander IV to resume negotiations and send a legate to Nicaea. Alexander was overjoyed to acquiesce in the imperial proposal. Both sides wished to hasten matters as much as possible. The papal legate, Constantine, bishop of Orvieto, was to be ready to depart in ten days. It is interesting to note that the proposals made to the curia by the late John Vatatzes were now to serve as the principal basis of the new

negotiations.[136] The delegate was supplied with both official and secret instructions.

The legate was given some special powers, the most important of which was the right to convoke a council, to preside over it as a vicar of the pope, and to draw up its decisions as he pleased.

This papal mission organized so energetically and hopefully ended in complete failure; the bishop of Orvieto was not even received by the Emperor, who had meantime changed his mind. On his way to Nicaea, in Macedonia, the papal legate was ordered to leave the imperial territory, and forbidden to journey further.[137]

Theodore II who, at that time, was taking the field against Bulgaria and was successful in his political enterprises, had come to the conclusion that he had no further need of the papal support. His final aim — the taking of Constantinople — seemed to Theodore entirely realizable without any new attempt to form the union, that is, without losing the independence of the Greek Church.

In 1258 Theodore II died. Michael Palaeologus, who usurped the throne of Nicaea in 1259, was dangerously threatened by the coalition formed against him in the West. The papal support was needed and Michael apparently sent envoys to Pope Alexander IV.

But the latter lacked energy and did not take the opportunity of making use of Michael’s difficult position.[138] Finally Michael succeeded in seizing Constantinople without any support from the Holy See. The Empire of Nicaea preserved the Orthodox church, and the Orthodox patriarchate, and restored them to Constantinople. During the Nicene Empire the plan for union had no success.

Social and economic conditions in the empire of nicaea.

The Emperors of Nicaea were always concerned with the problems of the internal life of their state. Economic prosperity was one of their very important aims. In this respect John Vatatzes is especially noticeable; his varied and strenuous external activity did not prevent him from paying adequate attention to the economic wealth of his country. He encouraged agriculture, vineyards, and stock-breeding. To quote a source, “in a short time, all the warehouses have been filled to overflowing with fruits; roads, streets, all stalls, and enclosures have been filled with flocks of cattle and fowls.”[139] The famine which at that time befell the adjacent Sultanate of Rum compelled the Turks to crowd into the Nicene dominions to buy, at a high price, the means of subsistence. Turkish gold, silver, Oriental stuffs, jewels, and other articles of luxury poured in abundance into the hands of the Nicene Greeks and filled the imperial treasury. By diminishing taxes Vatatzes succeeded in raising the economic prosperity of the Empire. In times of dearth the large supplies of corn collected in granaries were distributed among the people. Having at his disposal considerable amounts of money Vatatzes erected all over the country forts, and such buildings as hospitals, almshouses, and poorhouses.[140] John Vatatzes was anxious “that, having everything at home he needed, no one should be induced to lay a grasping hand on simple and poor men, and that thereby the state of the Romans might be completely purified from injustice.”[141]

Vatatzes himself was a large landowner and many of his nobles also possessed considerable tracts of land, and derived a sufficient living from their estates.[142] These estates seem to have been granted by the Emperor to the members of his officeholding nobility, and resemble the western European beneficium or Byzantine pronoia, that is to say, land granted by the emperors or, in their name, by their ministers, to subjects for their services to the state on condition that they furnish military service. Perhaps the large landowners were sometimes discontented with Vatatzes’ regime and renounced allegiance to him. Towards the close of his reign some confiscations by the Emperor of movable and immovable property took place,[143] and this very interesting phenomenon may be explained by an antagonism between the throne and the large landowners, on which there is no information. A recent historian even judged it possible to aver that such risings of the aristocracy against Vatatzes actually took place.[144] From the social standpoint, Vatatzes may be regarded as a protector of the peasantry and urban class; he endeavored, first of all, to raise their wealth and prosperity; and this circumstance might have evoked the dissatisfaction of the landed aristocracy, which brought about severe measures in retaliation against them.

When Theodore II ascended the throne, the officeholding aristocracy persecuted by his father looked upon the new Emperor with confidence, hoping to regain their lost wealth and influence.[145] But they were disappointed in their expectations.

Theodore’s policy was to diminish the influence of the aristocracy, and severe measures were apparently taken against many of its members; a long list of names of high officials who suffered under Theodore II is given by a contemporary writer.[146] The aristocracy was put down under Theodore II, and men of humble origin surrounded his throne; owing everything to Theodore they were obedient tools in his hands.[147] After Theodore’s death, under his son, who was only a child, the aristocracy again increased their influence.

In connection with Theodore’s military enterprises the taxes were considerably augmented, and in his letter to Nicephorus Blemmydes, who accused the Emperor of extorting too many taxes from the population, Theodore explained that the reason for his policy was his military activities.[148]

The Emperors of Nicaea were also very much interested in the development of commercial relations with other states, and especially with Venice. In August, 1219, Theodore I Lascaris made an alliance and a commercial treaty with the Venetian podestá in Constantinople, which secured to the Venetian merchants the privilege of trading free of dues on land and sea, all over the Empire of Nicaea (per totum Imperium meum et sine aliqua inquisitione).[149]

Western goods imported by the Venetians according to this treaty competed successfully with eastern goods which had to pass through the whole territory of the Sultanate of Iconium. Eastern and Italian stuffs were in special demand, and the population spent enormous amounts of money for their purchase. Seeing this John Vatatzes, under pain of “dishonor,” that is to say, of losing their social position, forbade his subjects to purchase and wear foreign stuffs and ordered them to be satisfied “only with that which the land of the Romans produces and which the hands of the Romans are able to prepare.”[150] How long this regulation, which was intended to support local production, remained in force, is not known; probably it was soon forgotten.

The friendly relations with Venice did not last long, and under Vatatzes the Republic of St. Mark was hostile to Nicaea. At that time Vatatzes had some difficulties with the former imperial governor of the island of Rhodes, Leon Gabalas, who, soon after 1204, had styled himself “Lord of the Cyclades,” and even “Caesar.” When Vatatzes opened hostilities against him, Leon, unable to protect the island with his own forces, made an offensive and defensive alliance with Venice, which broke down the treaty concluded with Theodore I Lascaris. In the treaty of 1234 between Leon Gabalas and Venice the latter was granted vast commercial privileges. In this very interesting document Leon Gabalas called himself “dominus Rhode et Cicladum insularum Ksserus Leo Gavalla,” “lord of Rhodes and the Cyclades, Caesar Leo Gavalla.”[151] Vatatzes sent an expedition to Rhodes and the island became the possession of the Emperor of Nicaea.[152]

Just before the taking of Constantinople the Genoese gained the upper hand over their Venetian rivals when, in 1261, Michael Palaeologus signed the treaty of Nymphaeum. According to this treaty the Genoese obtained commercial supremacy in the Levant. After the restoration of the Byzantine Empire Michael Palaeologus continued his friendly relations with the Genoese.

Education, learning, literature, and art.

After the ruin of the Empire in 1204 and its division into a certain number of independent Latin and Greek dominions, the state of Nicaea became not only the center for the future political unification of the Hellenes, but also a hotbed of intense cultural life. As George of Cyprus states, in the second half of the thirteenth century, Nicaea was said “to be an ancient Athens in her abundance of scholars” and “a marvelous and greatly loved source of scholarship.”[153] Perhaps it may not be amiss to recall that in the West in the Middle Ages Paris was called “a new Athens” and “a city of science.”

However on his coming to Nicaea George of Cyprus was disappointed in his expectations of Nicaea as a city of scholarship. In one of his works Theodore Lascaris said that Corinth was famous for music, Thessaly for weaving, Philadelphia for shoemaking, and Nicaea for philosophy.[154] All the Lascarids, except the last, the child John IV, were real admirers of learning and education and very well understood that spiritual culture was one of the foundations of a strong state. In spite of the great difficulties in the external and internal relations of his young empire, the first ruler of Nicaea, Theodore I, was interested in the problems of learning. He invited to his court many scholars, especially from the Greek regions occupied or menaced by the Franks.

Such an invitation was received, for example, by the metropolitan of Athens, Michael Acominatus, who had fled before the Latin invasion to the island of Ceos, but he was unable to accept it because of his advanced age and poor health. However, Michael’s brother, Nicetas Acominatus, an historian, retired to Nicaea after the taking of Constantinople by the Franks. Enjoying leisure and tranquility at Theodore Lascaris’

court, he put into permanent shape his historical works and wrote his theological treatise A Treasury of Orthodoxy. Theodore’s successor, the famous John III Ducas Vatatzes, despite his vigorous and continued military and international activity, found time enough to satisfy the cultural needs of the Empire. In his cities he founded libraries, particularly of art and sciences, and he sometimes himself sent young men to school to stimulate education in his country. To his time belongs the most eminent representative of the cultural movement of the thirteenth century, Nicephorus Blemmydes, scholar, writer, and teacher. Among his disciples were the enlightened writer on the throne, Vatatzes’ successor, Theodore II Lascaris, and a very well known historian and statesman, George Acropolita. Like his father, Theodore was deeply interested in libraries; he collected books and distributed them to different libraries, and he even allowed the books to be taken out by the readers to their homes for reading.[155]

As in the epoch of the Comneni, the educated people of the thirteenth century wrote, with very few exceptions, in the artificial school-Greek tongue. This had broken away from the spoken language, which was not admitted in literature. The Greek classical writers and the Church Fathers were the models under whose yoke the medieval educated Greeks in general, and the Greeks of the thirteenth century in particular, lived and thought.

The most eminent figure in the cultural life of the Nicene Empire was,

undoubtedly, Nicephorus Blemmydes. Besides many works of various kinds, he left two interesting autobiographies published in 1896 by the German scholar, A. Heisenberg.

These give a picture not only of the life of the author, but also of the events and men of his epoch.

Blemmydes was born in Constantinople at the very end of the twelfth century.

After the taking of the capital by the Latins the boy Blemmydes and his parents emigrated to Asia Minor, in the dominions of Theodore I Lascaris. There he started his education in the elementary school. Passing from city to city, Blemmydes became gradually acquainted, through various teachers, with poetics, rhetoric, logic, philosophy, natural sciences, medicine, arithmetic, geometry, physics, and astronomy.

Then he settled in a monastery and, for the first time, devoted himself entirely to the active study of the Scriptures and the works of the Fathers. In Vatatzes’ reign, Patriarch Germanus had a feeling of affection for Blemmydes, kept him at his court, and made him familiar with the broad interests of the Church. But Blemmydes had a tendency to solitary life, abandoned the court in spite of the persuasions of the patriarch, and retired to a monastery on the mountain of Latros, close to Miletus, in Caria, famous for its strict monastic rule, where he devoted himself to the spiritual life. On his return from the monastery, during the negotiations of Vatatzes and the patriarch with the papal legates concerning union, Blemmydes was a strict defender of the Orthodox doctrine; finally, he took refuge in the cowl and established himself in a monastery, where he occupied himself with his scientific works, founded a school, and became a teacher of philosophy. Among other young men entrusted to Blemmydes by the Emperor was the future historian and statesman George Acropolita. Vatatzes, attentive to the progress of learning and art in his Empire, sent Blemmydes on a scientific mission through Thrace, Macedonia, Thessaly, Mount Athos, and other places, to purchase valuable manuscripts of the Scriptures and other works, or, if purchase were impossible, to read them and make extracts and notes. This commission successfully fulfilled, enriched Blemmydes’ mind with new knowledge that greatly astonished his contemporaries. The Emperor confided to his care the education of his son and heir, Theodore Lascaris, who later became an enlightened ruler and writer. After having founded a monastery of his own, Blemmydes established himself there. He participated in the religious discussions of his epoch, came near being elected patriarch, devoted most of his time to his literary studies, survived the restoration of the Byzantine Empire by Michael Palaeologus, and peacefully passed away in his monastery about the year 1272. Blemmydes’ contemporaries unanimously pay to him the highest

tributes.[156]

Numerous and varied works of Blemmydes have been preserved. The two

autobiographies of Blemmydes give much valuable information about both the life and personality of the author and the ecclesiastical history and the political and social conditions of his epoch; in fact, the second is one of the very important sources for the history of Byzantium in the thirteenth century. Blemmydes was the author of a very great number of theological writings in the field of dogmatics, polemics, asceticism, exegetics, liturgies, ecclesiastical poetry, sermons, and lives of the saints. His “version of some psalms,” designed for the church service, became later a prescribed part of vespers in the Greek church, appeared afterwards in the south Slavonic churches, and finally reached Russia. Blemmydes’ secular works are also of great interest. His political treatise The Imperial Statue (Βασιλικος ανδριας), dedicated to his pupil. Emperor Theodore II Lascaris, depicts an ideal ruler who is to serve as an example of various dignities and virtues; this emperor is a model of all good, and shines brighter than the celebrated Polycleitus; in his life Theodore must follow such a model. In the opinion of Blemmydes, the ruler is “the highest official ordained by God to care for the people subject to him and to lead them to the highest good.” The emperor as “the prop and stay of the people” should have in view the welfare of his subjects, should not give vent to anger, should avoid flatterers, and should care for the army and navy. During peace he must prepare for war, because strong weapons are the best protection; it is necessary for him to care for the internal organization of the state, for religion, and for justice. “May the emperor,” Blemmydes said at the end of the treatise, “accept favorably this word of mine, and may he listen to better advice from wiser men which he will collect and keep carefully in the depth of his soul.”[157] The starting point of all the speculations of the author on the ideal ruler is this statement: “First of all, the emperor must control himself, and then govern all his people.”[158] The exact sources which Blemmydes used for his treatise are not known.

The opinions of scholars vary as to the significance of this treatise. “This work of Blemmydes,” a special writer on his life and works said, “has a particular value and significance, chiefly because it perfectly answered the needs and requirements of the Greek people of that time.”[159] They had lost Constantinople, found refuge at Nicaea, and they dreamt, through an experienced, strong, energetic, and enlightened monarch, of driving out the foreigners from the shores of the Bosphorus and returning to their fatherland. Such an ideal monarch was portrayed by Blemmydes.

In contradiction to this opinion, another scholar, Th. Uspensky, wrote of the same work: “Blemmydes has no idea of contemporary requirements; he lives in the realm of fairy tales, beyond the limits of reality; he has no realization of contemporary life and the needs of the epoch. Blemmydes’ abstract king is wise but lacking in human passions and emotions. He is placed in a setting entirety isolated from life and everyday relations, and therefore his advice and suggestions cannot correspond to real requirements… The misfortune of the medieval Greek was that he was weakened by classical reminiscences; he had no creative force, and real life was veiled from him by books. We imagine Blemmydes to be such a man from his political treatise.”[160]

Of course, classical traditions and religious emotions influenced Blemmydes a great deal. Still, in the course of his life, he was several times closely connected with the interests of the Empire and its Emperor, so that, perhaps, he was not always “a dweller in another world, entirely strange to the interests of the sinful earth.”[161] Under the rhetorical disguise of his treatise one may distinguish some realistic traits which resemble the personality of Theodore II. It is very probable that when Blemmydes was writing his “imperial statue” the real image of Theodore II was hovering before his eyes, though the real traits in his ideal ruler are overshadowed by his rhetoric and classical erudition.[162]

Of the philosophical writings of Blemmydes based mainly on Aristotle, the best known are Abridged Physics and Abridged Logic, especially the latter. After the author’s death, his Logic became known all over the Empire and, little by little, became the basis for teaching and the favorite textbook of philosophy not only in the East, but also in western Europe. The editor of Blemmydes’ autobiographies, A. Heisenberg, remarked that these two works “have really created an immortal name for the author.”[163]

Blemmydes’ Logic and Physics are also important both from the point of view of understanding the philosophical movements in Byzantium of the thirteenth century, and from the point of view of elucidating the dark problem of the influence of Byzantium on the development of western European thought. There is also a correspondence of Blemmydes with Theodore II Lascaris, which gives much information on the history and culture of the time. Two small geographical writings in the form of textbooks, A History of the Earth and A General Geography, as well as some poems of secular character,[164] complete the rich and various literary inheritance left by Blemmydes to subsequent generations. Though it is true that he failed to open up new ways in his works and thoughts, Nicephorus Blemmydes was a brilliant figure in the complicated epoch of the Empire of Nicaea and justly occupies one of the most prominent places in the history of Byzantine culture.

Among the pupils of Blemmydes two became particularly distinguished: George Acropolita and Emperor Theodore II Lascaris. Born at Constantinople, George Acropolita had gone in his youth to Nicaea, during the reign of John Vatatzes. Together with Theodore Lascaris, he had received a good education under Nicephorus Blemmydes. He later even became a teacher of Theodore himself. He reached the highest offices but failed in his military career. Then he accompanied Michael Palaeologus to Constantinople, devoted himself to diplomacy and, by the order of the Emperor, conducted the negotiations at the Council of Lyons in 1274, where he succeeded in accomplishing the union with the western church, against which he had formerly struggled. Acropolita died at the beginning of the ninth decade of the thirteenth century.

The main literary work of Acropolita is the history narrating the events from the capture of Constantinople by the crusaders to the restoration of the Byzantine Empire (1203-1261), which is very important as a source. This work may be called a special history of the epoch of the Nicene Empire and serves as a continuation of the work of Nicetas Choniates. As a contemporary of the events described, who in his official position had taken part in them, Acropolita gave a reasonable and reliable narration of the events of his epoch in clear language. Among the short writings of Acropolita, is the sensitive and beautiful funeral oration on John Vatatzes.

With the name of Blemmydes is also closely connected the name of Emperor Theodore II Lascaris. George Acropolita was the official teacher of Theodore, but Blemmydes had a very strong influence upon the future Emperor, who in his letters called him his teacher and who felt profound reverence for him.[165] Both Blemmydes and Acropolita succeeded in instilling into the soul of their young pupil, during the lifetime of his father John Vatatzes, a real love for knowledge. The correspondence of Theodore published at the end of the last century by the Italian scholar, Festa, affords a new and fresh source of information on this interesting personality. Theodore studied the Greek writers, both ecclesiastical and secular, became acquainted with different sciences, and devoted his chief attention to philosophy, particularly Aristotle.

Trained in the ideas of Hellenism and classical literature, he beautifully described, in one of his letters, the profound impression produced upon him by the contemplation of the ancient monuments and ruins of Pergamum.[166] This letter, as far as content and style are concerned, might have been written by an Italian humanist.

Favoring education, he was, like his father, interested in school matters. In one of his letters concerning the pupils who had finished school and been sent to the Emperor for examination, Theodore wrote: “Nothing else rejoices so much the soul of the gardener as to see his meadow in full blossom; if, from the beautiful and flourishing view, he may judge of the bloom of plants, he may, upon the same basis, conjecture that in proper time he will enjoy the fruits of charm and beauty… Although I was terribly oppressed with a great want of leisure on account of my duties as commander, while my mind was distracted by revolts, battles, oppositions, resistance, cunning, changes, menaces … nevertheless I have never withdrawn my chief thought from the beauty of the spiritual meadow.”[167]

A circle of educated, literary, and scholarly men gathered around Theodore II, who himself was deeply interested in science, art, music, poetry, and the like. He opened many schools, and in one of his letters, he discusses the problem of school organization, programs, and purposes.[168]

Theodore Lascaris wrote several treatises on philosophic and religious subjects, and some panegyrics, and left the large collection of letters mentioned above (over two hundred) addressed to various prominent people of his epoch, especially to his tutors, Nicephorus Blemmydes and George Acropolita. In Theodore’s writings may be also pointed out his vast knowledge of the natural and mathematical sciences. A more attentive and detailed study of the literary inheritance of Theodore Lascaris, published as well as unpublished,[169] would undoubtedly provide the basis for appreciating the personality of the author — “a sort of Oriental parallel to his great contemporary Frederick II” — as well as for a more profound understanding of the cultural interests of the Christian East in the thirteenth century.[170]

To the second half of the twelfth century and to the first period of the Empires of Nicaea and Constantinople belongs the activity of the two enlightened brothers, John and Nicholas Mesaritai, whose very existence came to light only at the beginning of the twentieth century, owing to A. Heisenberg. For this reason, these two names were not mentioned in Krumbacher’s famous History of Byzantine Literature. The funeral oration delivered by Nicholas Mesarites on the death of his elder brother shows that John had a careful education, held some office under the last two Comneni, and later, under the Angeli, became a professor of the exegesis of the Psalmbook. He wrote a commentary on the Psalms, the authoritative copy of which perished at the capture and sack of Constantinople by the Franks in 1204. John took an active part in the disputes with the papal representatives at Constantinople in the first years of the Latin Empire, and held firmly to the Orthodox standpoint. He died in 1207.[171]

His younger brother, Nicholas, who also held some office about court under the Angeli and agreed with his brother concerning the papal pretensions, went to Nicaea after his brother’s death, where he was kindly received by the patriarch and afterwards made bishop of Ephesus. Later he took a leading part in the negotiations for a religious understanding between Nicaea and Rome, about which he left a detailed narrative.

Some of the works of Nicholas, though far from all, have been published.

Particularly interesting is the description by Nicholas Mesarites of the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople with its beautiful mosaics.[172] This church, hardly inferior to St. Sophia in luxury and beauty, was the burial place of the Byzantine emperors and the prototype of St. Mark’s at Venice, St. John at Ephesus, and St. Front at Périgueux in France. The Church of the Holy Apostles is known to have been destroyed by the Turks in 1453, and on its site the mosque of Muhammed II the Conqueror was constructed. Because of the loss of the important monument itself, the description of Nicholas based upon his personal observation has particular significance. A.

Heisenberg, the first to acquaint the scholarly world with Nicholas Mesarites, said that his writings can, to a certain extent, throw new light upon the origin of the Empire of Nicaea and are an important source of information for the period. “Whoever has the courage to prepare an edition of Mesarites’ works will render a great service; this task is not easy, but exceedingly valuable, and merits thanks.”[173]

One cannot ascribe eminent talents to the brothers Mesaritai, but they belong to those educated and book-loving men who, some in the quiet of monasteries, some at the court of Nicaea, promoted cultural work in the thirteenth century and prepared the way for the spiritual and political regeneration of the state which brought about the Byzantine Empire’s restoration in 1261.

The Byzantine chronicle of that period is represented by only one writer, Joel, who wrote, probably in the thirteenth century, a brief universal chronicle having no historical or literary value. It covered the period from Adam to the capture of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204.

All of these works were written in the conventional classic, literary, and artificial tongue that had entirely broken away from the popular spoken language. But there are some examples in the literature of the thirteenth century of the use of the spoken language and popular poetical meters which give interesting specimens of the new currents in literature.

Composed in popular (political) verses on the occasion of the marriage of John Vatatzes to the daughter of Frederick II, the epithalamium (nuptial poem) of Nicholas Irenikos (Eirenikos),[174] was written in the style of the court ceremonial, closely related to the style of the epithalamia of Theodore Prodromus. Nicholas Irenikos’ poem gives new information on the splendid ceremonies of the Byzantine court, and therein lies its historical and cultural value.[175] Krumbacher’s opinion that this poem resembles the nuptial songs of modern Greek poetry and that the author drew his inspiration directly from the popular poetry of that time, cannot be maintained.[176]

To the epoch of the crusades, especially after the Fourth Crusade, when on the territory of the eastern Empire there were established a number of Latin feudal dominions, belong several poetical works written in the spoken language and presenting a sort of romance which, in a fantastic setting, describes mainly love and chivalrous adventures. One piece of work in the field of Byzantine epic poetry previous to the crusades, namely, the poem of Digenes Akrites, is particularly well known.[177]

The epoch of the crusades created in Byzantium a more complex literary setting.

The Frankish conquerors who brought into the East the definitely established institutions of western feudalism, of course made their new subjects acquainted with their western chivalrous literature of the twelfth century, with the Provençal romans d’aventures and other works which became widespread at the Latin courts in Greek lands. The medieval French romance which had proved its cosmopolitan character by the fact that it was adopted in Germany, Italy, and England, could certainly take root also in Greece, where the conditions at the beginning of the thirteenth century seemed to be particularly favorable for it. The question has therefore been raised whether the Byzantine romance in verse of the time was a mere imitation of western models, or whether the Byzantine romans d’aventures were original works created by Byzantine conditions of life, analogous to western conditions, only partly influenced by western literature. Bury suggested that perhaps “their acquaintance with Western romances move the Greeks to produce works impregnated with Western ideas in the same way as the Odes of Horace or the Eclogues and Aeneid of Virgil are charged with the influence of their Hellenic masters.”[178] Various opinions of scholars on this problem are based upon the study of literary sources, often anonymous and not to be exactly dated, for style, meter, and literary and historical content.

An anonymous romance in verse, Belthandros and Chrysantza, the original version of which is to be dated, probably, in the thirteenth century, is an example of the Byzantine romance. The text bears some traces of a later remodeling and may belong to the fifteenth century.[179]

The plot of the romance is as follows: A certain emperor Rodophilos has two sons, Philarmos and Belthandros. Belthandros, the younger son, distinguished for beauty and courage, cannot bear the persecutions of his father and leaves his country to seek his fortune abroad. Passing by the land bordering on Turkey and entering Armenia (that is to say, lesser Armenia, Cilicia), he reaches Tarsus; near the city he comes to a small stream in the water of which a star is shining. The star leads Belthandros to a magnificent castle full of various miracles, named in the romance a Castle of Love (Ερωτοκαστρον). There, from the inscriptions on two statues, he learns of the predestined love between him and Chrysantza, “a daughter of the great king of great Antioch.”[180] Deciding to see all “the bitter and sweet beauties of the Castle of Love,”[181] Belthandros, on the invitation of the Lord of the castle, “the king of love who had on his head an imperial crown and held in his hand a huge scepter and a gold arrow,”[182] approaches his throne. On learning the story of Belthandros’ life, the king directs him to select, of forty girls, the most beautiful and to give her a rod “of twisted iron, gold, and topaz.”[183] Then, in the romance the interesting scene of the competition of beauty is described which resembles the judgment of Paris and reflects the well-known Byzantine custom of the choice of the worthiest bride for the basileus.

When Belthandros gives the rod to the most beautiful girl, all that surrounds him, the king himself and the forty girls, suddenly disappear “like a dream.”[184] Leaving the castle, Belthandros, after five days’ journey, comes to the outskirts of Antioch, where he meets the king of the city out hunting with his falcons and his court. The master of Antioch offers him a post at his court. Suddenly, in the daughter of the king, Chrysantza, Belthandros recognizes the girl to whom in the Castle of Love he handed the rod. The young couple are inflamed with love for each other and, in spite of all the strictness of women’s life in the Orient, a love meeting takes place at night in the royal garden. But the meeting ends badly for Belthandros: at dawn the guard discovers the couple, seizes Belthandros, and throws him into prison. Chrysantza persuades her faithful maidservant to say that Belthandros came to the garden to meet her. When Chrysantza’s father hears this he pardons Belthandros and, with the secret consent of Chrysantza, a fictitious marriage between Belthandros and the maidservant is performed. The clandestine meetings between Belthandros and Chrysantza continue.

Ten months later the lovers, the maid, and some faithful servants flee from Antioch; while crossing a raging river the maid and the servants perish. The lovers, barely escaping death, reach the seacoast, where they find a Greek vessel sent by Belthandros’

father, Rodophilos, in search of his younger son; the beloved elder son has died.

Recognizing the son of their emperor, the sailors immediately take Belthandros and Chrysantza on board the ship and bring them speedily to the capital, where Rodophilos, who has despaired of seeing his son again, welcomes them with great joy. The romance ends with a description of the solemn wedding of Belthandros and Chrysantza, at which the bishop performs the ceremony and puts the imperial crown upon the head of Belthandros.

The judgment of scholars on this anonymous romance gives an indication, of their general opinion of the Byzantine romance of the epoch of the crusades. One group of scholars thinks that a French romance of chivalry, still unknown or lost, served as a basis for the romance Belthandros and Chrysantza; in the Castle of Love, the Greek Erotocastron, they see the Chateau d’amour of Provençal poetry; in the proper names of Rodophilos and Belthandros they recognize the popular Hellenized western names of Rodolph and Bertrand;[185] it has even been thought that the whole romance of Belthandros and Chrysantza is nothing but a Greek version of the French tale of a well-known French knight of the fourteenth century, Bertrand du Guesclin, who lived during The Hundred Years’ War.[186] Krumbacher, who was inclined to refer to western European sources all that is found in medieval Greek popular poetry on the Castle of Love, Eros, and so on, wrote that the romance of Belthandros and Chrysantza was certainly written by a Greek, but in a land which had been familiar for a long time with Frankish culture; but the chief problem, whether the kernel of the plot is of Frankish or of Greco-Eastern origin, will remain unsolved till the real prototype of this romance is found.[187] Finally, Bury said that the romance of Belthandros and Chrysantza is Greek from the beginning to the end in its construction, descriptions, and ideas; it has nothing that ought to be referred to western influence. A parallel literary development existed in both Frankish and Greek lands. Just as the French romances of the twelfth century were preceded by a great deal of epic poetry, so the Greek romances of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries had also as their background an epic basis. In both cases the working out of romantic motives was affected by the influences flowing directly or indirectly from the Hellenistic world: in France, through Latin literature, particularly Ovid; in Greece by means of the literary tradition which was never dead there… The Greeks already possessed, owing to their own experiences, all the ideas, material, and setting for the romances of chivalry, when the western knights were establishing themselves in the East. Therefore the French literature of the twelfth century could exercise no such strong influence on Byzantium as it exercised, for example, on Germany. The romantic literature of the West did not appear as a new revelation to people who in their own literature had motives, ideals, and elements of phantasy similar to those of the West. Of course, some influence from French literature in the epoch of the crusades, through the contact and intermingling of the two cultures in the Christian West, is not to be denied. But, generally speaking, French and Byzantine romances have one common Hellenistic basis, and they developed along parallel lines, independent of each other.[188] As Diehl said, the background of the romance of Belthandros and Chrysantza remains purely Byzantine, and Greek civilization seems to have given the Frankish barons who came as conquerors much more than it received from them.[189] Another “love story” composed in political verses, the story of Callimachos and Chrysorroë, may also be referred to the thirteenth century.[190]

Light has recently been thrown on some eminent personalities of the thirteenth century in the west of the Balkan peninsula connected with the history of the Despotat of Epirus, the second Hellenic center organized on the ruins of the Byzantine Empire.

Among the prominent men of this region were: John Apocaucus, metropolitan of Naupactus (the city of Naupactus, in Italian Lepanto, at the entrance to the Gulf of Corinth or Lepanto); George Bardanes, metropolitan of Corcyra (the island of Corcyra, Italian Corfù); and Demetrius Chomatenos (Chomatianos), archbishop of Ochrida (the city of Ochrida or Achrida in western Macedonia, which in the first half of the thirteenth century belonged to the Despotat of Epirus).

In 1897 Krumbacher could only mention John of Naupactus as a polemist against the Latins and as the supposed author of the letters preserved in one of the manuscripts of Oxford which at that time had not been published.[191] But the publication of the correspondence of John, from a manuscript in St. Petersburg, by V. G.

Vasilievsky, and the later publication of a portion of John’s writings by the French scholar Pétridès, on the basis of the Oxford manuscript, enables students to become acquainted with the interesting personality of this writer.[192] The publication of all the manuscripts referring to John of Naupactus is far from complete.

John Apocaucus, metropolitan of Naupactus, who lived until the thirties of the thirteenth century, received an excellent classical and theological education. He spent some time in Constantinople, perhaps, in his youth, and then as metropolitan of Naupactus, took an active part in the political, public, and ecclesiastical life of the Despotat of Epirus. John appears as a leader of the patriotic portion of the Orthodox Greek clergy, both in independent Epirus and in the regions temporarily conquered, also, perhaps, as a political leader, and finally as the supporter of the Despots in their conflicts with the highest ecclesiastical authority, the patriarch, who was backed by the rival Emperor of Nicaea.[193] E. A. Chernousov wrote: John was “not a gloomy monk confined in, his cell, interested only in ecclesiastical affairs, far from the world and men. On the contrary, in his conception and character, in disclosing his own ‘Ego,’ in the methods of his literary activity, may be noticed the features which, to a certain extent, relate him to the later Italian humanists.”[194] In the works of John Apocaucus are evident his love and taste for writing, which has produced his vast correspondence, his love and feeling for nature and, finally, his attitude toward ancient literature, the authority of which, in the persons of the most celebrated writers of antiquity, Homer, Aristophanes, Euripides, Thucydides, Aristotle, and others, he estimated very highly, and which, along with the Bible, gave him a rich mine for parallels and analogies. At present there are in print more than forty of his writings — letters, various canonical works, and epigrams.[195] Among his correspondents were Theodore Comnenus, despot of Epirus, and the famous metropolitan of Athens, Michael Acominatus. As not all the writings of John Apocaucus have been published, a more complete and definite judgment on him as a writer and statesman belongs to the future.[196]

About the second eminent personality of the epoch of the Despotat of Epirus, George Bardanes, metropolitan of Corcyra, there existed for a long time an important misunderstanding. At the end of the sixteenth century, the author of the Ecclesiastical Annals, Cardinal Baronius, placed him in the twelfth century on the basis of George’s letters to Emperors Frederick and Manual Ducas. Cardinal Baronius thought these letters were addressed to Frederick I Barbarossa and Manuel I Comnenus.[197] Later scholars, realizing that several polemic pieces given under the name of George could not be associated in subject matter with the events of the twelfth century, came to the conclusion that there were two Georges of Corcyra, one who lived in the twelfth century, the other in the thirteenth. This erroneous opinion was accepted in the History of Byzantine Literature by Krumbacher, published in 1897.[198] But in 1885 this problem was definitely solved by V. G. Vasilievsky, who proved irrefutably that there was only one George, metropolitan of Corcyra; that he lived in the thirteenth century; and that the two emperors to whom he wrote were Frederick II and Manuel, Despot of Thessalonica, brother of the Emperor of Thessalonica, Theodore Ducas Angelus, who had been captured by the Bulgars. Thus George Bardanes belongs to the thirteenth century.[199]

George was born, probably, at Athens, and was first a pupil and later a friend and correspondent of Michael Acominatus, whose letters give much information about his life. George spent some time at the imperial court of Nicaea, and then returned to the West, where he was ordained bishop of Corcyra by John of Naupactus. The Despot of Epirus, Theodore Angelus, was favorably disposed towards him. George’s interesting letters have reached us, and Michael Acominatus on reading them felt the elegance of their style and clearness of their exposition; this, however, did not prevent Michael Acominatus, in his letters, from teaching George and correcting various failures of his style.[200] Besides the letters, George was the author of polemic pieces against the Latins and several iambic poems.

The famous Greek hierarch and canonist of the first half of the thirteenth century, the archbishop of Ochrida (Achrida), ordained by John of Naupactus, Demetrius Chomatenus (Chomatianos), who crowned Theodore of Epirus Emperor of Thessalonica, has left more than 150 writings, letters in which various juridical and ecclesiastical questions were discussed, various canonical messages and replies, judicial decisions, the acts of councils, and so on. These writings are of very great importance for the history of Byzantine law in general and canonic law in particular, and give an interesting source of information on the history of the church, the customs and manners, and the international relations of the first half of the thirteenth century in Epirus, Albania, Serbia, Bulgaria, and the Latin states.

John Apocaucus, metropolitan of Naupactus, George Bardanes, metropolitan of Corcyra, and Demetrius Chomatenus, archbishop of Ochrida, are the most prominent representatives of the cultural movement in the Despotat of Epirus and in the short-lived Empire of Thessalonica.[201]

As far as Byzantine art was concerned, the new Frankish principalities established on the territory of the Byzantine Empire induced many artists from Constantinople and Thessalonica (Salonika) to seek new fields in the now powerful Serbian kingdom, or to join the artists already settled in Venice; “there was a diaspora [dispersion] of the painters. These missionaries of Byzantine art gave direction to the Slav schools, the full achievement of which at a rather later time we are now only beginning to understand.”[202] But artistic traditions did not die out, and the artistic renaissance under the Palaeologi was, to a certain extent, due to these traditions and achievements of an earlier time which were preserved in the thirteenth century.

The literary movement of the epoch of the Nicene Empire has great importance for the general history of Byzantine culture. The center which had been created at the court of the Emperors of Nicaea became a nursery of culture, which, amid political division, violent international struggle, and internal troubles, saved, protected, and continued the achievements of the first Hellenic renaissance under the Comneni in order to make possible later the appearance of the second cultural Hellenic renaissance under the Palaeologi. Nicaea serves as a bridge from the first renaissance to the second.

The cultural center formed in the thirteenth century in the western part of the Balkan peninsula, in the territory of Epirus, was the link which related the Christian East to western Europe, and to Italy in particular, in the cultural movement of the time.

The rise of the culture of Italy in the thirteenth century at the time of Frederick II Hohenstaufen, this “prologue of the Renaissance,” although it has not yet been thoroughly studied, has been and is being generally emphasized, discussed, and acknowledged. But the rise of the culture of Nicaea during the same century, and especially the movement in neglected Epirus, have not been taken into consideration.

As a matter of fact, these three movements, in Italy, Nicaea, and Epirus, developed more or less actively along parallel lines, and perhaps with some reciprocal influences.

Even a phenomenon so modest at first sight as the cultural rise of Epirus in the thirteenth century must lose its exclusively local significance and take its place in the history of general European culture of the thirteenth century.

Byzantine feudalism.

For a considerable length of time feudalism has been studied as a phenomenon belonging exclusively to medieval western Europe, and indeed as distinguishing the history of this area from the history of other lands.[203] It even has been supposed, not infrequently, that feudalism in all western countries was a homogeneous phenomenon, identical in substance. The fact has been obscured that feudal conditions established in one or another country in the West had their own peculiarities. Recently, however, the meaning of the term feudalism has grown broader; scholars have noted that the presence of feudalizing processes is to be found among different peoples in various parts of the earth and various epochs of history. The comparative historical method has eliminated an important historical prejudice that long dominated: that the complicated political, social, and economic phenomenon conventionally called feudalism belonged exclusively to the Middle Ages in western Europe. Therefore at present the term feudalism is used in two senses, one generic, the other specific. West European feudalism in the Middle Ages is only one species of feudalism and is a concept used in the narrower sense of the word, while in the broader sense feudalism is a stage of culture through which, according to many historians and sociologists, all peoples pass in their historical development. No doubt the feudal process was far from reaching its complete development everywhere; for instance, sometimes the process was limited only to the social aspect and failed to attain political significance. Nevertheless, the transfer of this problem from the limits of western European medieval history into world history has allowed scholars to discover feudalism in ancient Egypt, in the Arab califate, in Japan, in the Islands of the Pacific Ocean, and in Old Russia. In each country where adequate conditions appear, feudalism in one or another stage of development is a phenomenon possible but not necessarily unavoidable.

Striking in its brevity and acumen is the definition of feudalism given by a Russian scholar, P. Vinogradov: “Feudalism is marked by the territorial aspect of political relations and by the political aspect of territorial relations.”[204] Obviously this definition does not touch the economic aspect of the problem. But later that aspect was brought up and indeed emphasized by scholars, and now it must be considered.

Many different opinions, sometimes diametrically opposite, have been expressed concerning the origin of western European feudalism. Some scholars derive it from Germanic or Roman conditions existing at the turning-point from ancient to medieval history; some believe it to be the result of the Carolingian legislation; others try to explain this complicated institution by the social conditions of the almost unknown old Germanic life, especially the imaginary conditions of the old Germanic “march.” All these theories have now only historical significance and strikingly illustrate the amount of labor and sometimes excessive perspicacity which scholars expend to establish a complicated historical phenomenon, in this case feudalism, on a really scholarly basis.

Many distinctive features of western European feudalism are explained partly by conditions in the Roman Empire during the first three centuries of its existence.

Several elements later became constituent parts of feudalism. Precarium or benefice (beneficium), patronage, and immunity are well known in Roman times. Beneficium formerly designated any temporary possessions, sometimes during the life of the possessor; therefore lands given on certain conditions for temporary use, often for life, were also called beneficia; among the conditions the possessor’s rendering of military service occupied first place, so that beneficium usually meant a territorial grant to be held on condition of paying military service. Later when western European feudalism took definite shape, the beneficium became a feodum (fief), i.e. land given in hereditary possession on definite conditions. The conventional name feudalism comes from this word feodum, whose origin has not yet been definitely established. Patronage, i.e. the custom of placing oneself under the protection of a more powerful man, passed from Roman times to the Middle Ages and in the feudal epoch began to be called by a Latin word, commendatio, or sometimes by a German word, mundium. Finally, immunitas, which was known in the Roman period, in the feudal epoch meant giving certain state rights to private individuals; these men were often exempted from certain obligations to the state, and government agents were forbidden to enter the territory of an immunist.

In the West as the central power declined, these three elements, which existed for a considerable time independently of each other, gradually began to concentrate in one person; the same individual, namely the landowner, distributed benefices, received commendations, and used immunities. In other words, the landowner became a sovereign. This process concerned both laity and clergy. Of course this evolution took place in various countries in various ways.

The problem of feudalism in Byzantium has not been much studied; intensive work is still needed, and one must be very cautious in generalizing. But at least it is now quite possible to speak of feudalism and feudalizing processes in Byzantium, whereas not long ago the term “Byzantine feudalism” would have seemed a paradox.

Since Byzantium is the continuation of the Roman Empire, it may be said a priori that the phenomena analogous to benefice, patronage, and immunity are, of course, to be noted in the internal life of Byzantium. The question is only to what extent these phenomena developed in the modified conditions of the eastern provinces of the Empire, and what forms they took.

In the east the Greek word kharistikion corresponded in meaning to the Latin word beneficium, and the Greek word kharistikarios corresponded to beneficiarius, i.e. a man granted land on condition of paying military service. But in Byzantium, especially beginning with the tenth century, the system of distribution of land as kharistikia, was usually applied to monasteries, which were granted both to laymen and to clergy.

Possibly this peculiarity of Byzantine beneficium (kharistikion) should be connected with the iconoclastic epoch, when the government in its struggle against the monks resorted to the secularization of monastery lands, which gave the Emperor a rich source for land grants. This circumstance, in all probability, is the reason why the original meaning of kharistikon, a grant of land in general not specifically monasterial, was lost and the term kharistikion was used specifically as a monastery grant. A very good authority on the internal life of Byzantium, P. V. Bezobrazov, wrote: “The characteristic feature of the system of kharistikion was that the owner of a monastery, whoever he might have been (emperor, bishop, or private individual), gave a monastery for life to someone who thereupon took the name of kharistikarios. The kharistikarios received all the revenues of the monastery and was obliged to maintain the monks and take care of the buildings, in a word to carry on the whole economy of the monastery. It is evident that the surplus of the revenues belonged to the kharistikarios.”[205] Another noted Russian Byzantinist, Th. Uspensky, plainly stated that the system of kharistikion as a custom of granting monasteries and church lands was an institution which developed within the church itself and was in complete harmony with the customs and opinions existing among the laity as to the right of disposal of land property.[206] If these definitions of kharistikion, especially Uspensky’s, are accepted, it must also be affirmed that all links with the Roman past were lost; this conclusion is incorrect. The kharistikion is a survival of the Roman precarium-beneficium which received a special meaning owing to special conditions in the eastern half of the Empire.

In the epoch of the pagan Roman Empire, military landownership existed, the distinctive feature of which was that the land on the borders of the Empire was granted as hereditary property, but on specific condition that the possessors should defend the frontiers and hand down this obligation to their children. The beginning of this measure is usually referred to the period of Emperor Severus Alexander, i.e. to the first half of the third century, when he granted the frontier lands taken from the enemy to the frontier soldiers (limitanei) and their chiefs upon condition that they should maintain hereditary military service and not alienate the lands to civilians. Although some scholars categorically state that these frontier lands (agri limitanei) have no connection with the later beneficium or fief (feodum),[207] none the less many eminent historians, not without reason, discover the roots of the beneficia of the Middle Ages in the system of the distribution of lands in the pagan Roman Empire.[208] A novel of Theodosius II issued in the first half of the fifth century and included in the Code of Justinian in the sixth century, which was proclaimed binding upon both parts of the Empire, western and eastern, confirms the military service of the frontier soldiers or frontier militia (limitanei milites) as a necessary condition for possessing land, and refers the custom to ancient statutes (sicut antiquitus statutum est).[209]

Beginning with the seventh century, under the menace of the Persian, Arab, Avar, Slavonic, and Bulgarian invasions which often successfully wrested from the Empire important and prosperous frontier provinces, the government strengthened military organization all over the territory of the Empire; so to speak, it applied the former frontier organization to the inland provinces. But many severe military failures which Byzantium suffered from the seventh to the ninth centuries, in addition to the internal troubles of the iconoclastic period and the struggle for the throne, evidently shook the well arranged system of military land holding; the large landowners, the so-called

“powerful” men or magnates, took advantage of this new situation and against the law began to buy up military holdings. Therefore when in the tenth century the emperors of the Macedonian dynasty issued their famous novels to defend peasant interests against the encroaching tendencies of the “powerful” men, they were at the same time acting to defend military holdings. The novels of Romanus Lecapenus, Constantine Porphyrogenitus, Romanus II, and Nicephorus Phocas aimed at restoring the firmness and inviolability of military holdings and mainly at securing that such holdings should not be alienated to men who gave no military service; in other words, fundamentally these novels reproduced the provision of the novel of Theodosius II quoted above which passed into the Justinian Code. Th. Uspensky, who regarded the Slavonic influence in Byzantium as one of the most important elements of its internal life, wrote as regards military holdings: “If in the tenth century some traces of community are noted in the organization of military holdings, this of course indicates not Roman origin of the institution but Slavonic, and its first manifestations must be referred to the epoch of the Slavonic settlements in Asia Minor.”[210] But this hypothesis of the noted Russian historian cannot be proved. The system of military holdings survived to some extent down to the fall of Byzantium; at least in legislative texts from the eleventh century to the fourteenth the arrangements of the emperors of the tenth century are treated as still in force, although in reality they were not always so.

For a considerable time, as far as the fragmentary and obscure evidence shows, apparently no specific term was generally accepted in Byzantium to designate imperial grants, except possibly the term kharistikion; this word has not yet been studied from this particular aspect, so its use may be given only as an hypothesis, although a very plausible one. A special term to designate imperial grants made its appearance in Byzantine sources in the eleventh century; it was a term which was formerly used as an alternative for kharistikion, but which later began to be employed specifically in the sense of imperial grant. This term was pronoia.

Some scholars have incorrectly derived this word from the German word Frohne (socage, compulsory service); since they discovered it in Serbian documents before they learned it from Byzantine sources, they even believed that the Serbians borrowed it when they were still neighbors of the Goths.[211] It goes without saying that pronoia is a Greek word meaning “forethought, care” in the Christian sense, “providence.” Of course the word pronoia after receiving the special meaning of imperial grant did not lose its original sense, so that in a later period which cannot be exactly dated, Byzantine documents contain both meanings; similarly in the west the feudal term beneficium failed to overcome the original use of this word as “favor, benefit.”

The man who asked for and received a monastery as a grant (kharistikion) pledged himself to take care of it, i.e. in Greek to take “pronoia” of it. Therefore the man who received such a grant was sometimes called not only kharistikarios but also pronoetes, i.e. provider. In the course of time the granted estate itself began to be called pronoia.

According to Th. Uspensky, in Byzantium the term pronoia “means a grant to the officeholding class of populated lands or other revenue-yielding property as a reward for service done and on condition of discharging a certain service from the grant.”[212]

Military service was especially meant. The pronoia was not an hereditary property held unconditionally; the possessor of a pronoia could neither sell, bequeath, nor give away the granted land. In other words, the pronoia is identified with those military lands which go back to the period of the pagan Roman Empire. The pronoia was granted either by the emperors themselves or in their name by their ministers.

As early as the tenth century, there is evidence of the word pronoia used in the sense of a land grant on condition of military service. Complete certainty on the special meaning of pronoia from documents begins only with the second half of the eleventh century. This circumstance in no way proves that this meaning of pronoia could not have existed earlier. Further publication of earlier documents and a study of the published sources from this specific angle may establish the special meaning of pronoia for the period previous to the eleventh century. In the epoch of the Comneni the system of granting pronoias was already a common thing. In connection with the Crusades and the penetration of western European influence into Byzantium, especially under the latinophile Emperor Manuel I (1143-1180), actual western European feudal terms, though in Greek form, make their appearance in Byzantium, for example lizios, which corresponds to the medieval Latin word ligius, i.e. a vassal or holder of a fief. It is interesting to note that when the crusaders of the Fourth Crusade, i.e. western European landlords, began to establish themselves on the occupied territories of the Eastern Empire, they found the local land conditions very similar to those of the West and easily adaptable to their own feudal forms. In a document of the beginning of the thirteenth century, the Byzantine emperors’ grants are called fiefs (de toto feudo, quod et Manuel quondam defunctus Imperator dedit patri meo).[213] Another document of the same period testifies that the western conquerors continued to maintain the conquered population as formerly, exacting from them nothing more than they had been used to under the Greek emperors (debemus in suo statu tenere, nihil ab aliquo amplius exigentes, quam quod facere consueverant temporibus graecorum

imperatorum).[214] Much material for the study of feudal relations on the territory of Byzantium is contained in the so-called Chronicle of Morea, a rich mine of information on this subject. The institution of pronoia survived through the Middle Ages till the fall of the Empire.

The study of the problem of pronoia in Byzantium, in connection with kharistikion and military lots, deserves great attention and may lead to most interesting results,[215] not only for a better and more correct understanding of land conditions and of the internal life of the Empire in general but also for instructive and illuminating analogies with other countries, Western, Slavonic, and Muhammedan, including the later Ottoman Empire.

The term pronoia is in common use in Serbian documents. In the history of Russia, pronoia is sometimes compared with the Russian kormlenie (feeding). This was a custom in Old Russia; the Russian nobles were granted towns or provinces as kormlenie, often as reward for service in the field; these nobles were given the opportunity to enrich themselves by korm (food), gifts, and fees, legal and administrative, from the local population. But the Russian kormlenie was not connected with the possession of a territory and meant only the administration of a town or province with the right to collect revenues for the profit of the administrator.

Therefore the Byzantine pronoia corresponds rather to the pomestye of the State of Moscow, i.e. an estate held temporarily on condition of discharging military service, which speedily assumed an hereditary character.

The Roman patronage (patrocinium) or the western European commondatio—

mundium was also well known in Byzantium. The codes of Theodosius and Justinian contain a considerable number of decrees, beginning with the fourth century, where patronage (in the codes called patrocinium) was very severely punished because poor men who placed themselves under the protection (patronage) of their wealthy and powerful neighbors wished thereby to escape various state obligations, especially burdensome taxation, and this the state could not admit. In the novels of Justinian and later emperors there is a Greek term corresponding to the Latin patrocinium; this is prostasia, i.e. “acting in behalf of someone, patronage, protection,” which in any form whatever was forbidden. But in spite of the prohibitive measures of the central government the large landowners (the “powerful” men) continued their very profitable practice of patronage or prostasia, forming a sort of intermediary between the state and the taxable population, and the imperial power was unable to overcome this evil.

The novel issued by Romanus Lecapenus in 922 which forbade the “powerful” to acquire any property whatever from the poor, mentions among other means of the rich’s oppressing the poor, prostasia, i.e. patronage.

The institution of immunity (immunitas) was also known in Byzantium as exkuseia or exkusseia (εξκουσσεια), which with the derivative verb (εξκουσσευειν, εξκουσσευεσθαι) is merely the Greek form of the Latin word excusatio (verb, excusare), with an analogous meaning. Scholars particularly interested in exkuseia found the earliest imperial charter (chrysobull) granting an exkuseia was issued only in the middle of the eleventh century (1045); they accordingly failed to see in this institution, which according to the charter was so far away from Roman times, a survival of the former immunity and therefore they tried to explain its origin by other causes. One scholar, N. Suvorov, traced the origin of the Byzantine immunity-exkuseia back to a Western custom which passed to Byzantium in German shape. In his opinion, “it is impossible to establish any historical link between these later Byzantine immunities and the immunities of the Roman Law. Even if we suppose that German immunity has Roman roots, it was already in Frankish form when it passed in Byzantium.”[216]

Another scholar who made a special study of the problem of exkuseia, P. Yakovenko, disagreed with this opinion; he believed that this institution originated and developed in Byzantium independently and he refused to acknowledge any connection between exkuseia and the Roman immunity, because there is a strong difference between these two conceptions. “The origin of exkuseia is to be sought in the political disorder which broke out in Byzantium because of the degeneration of the Roman state institutions.

Along with this, the confusion of the principles of Public Law with those of Private Law also exerted its influence. From these causes the kernel of exkuseia originated; the state officials were forbidden to enter granted possessions, and the recipient of the grant of immunity was also granted the right of collecting state revenues.”[217]

In Roman legislative documents the Latin terms immunitas and excusatio are identical in meaning, and the attempts of some learned jurists to establish a definite distinction between them have not led to final results.[218]

In the codes of Theodosius and Justinian there are severe regulations against exemptions from taxation which are called immunitates or are expressed by the verb excusare.

The documents of the Byzantine period contain grants of immunities-exkuseias mostly given to monasteries. According to them the privileges granted by the charters of the Byzantine emperors were chiefly concerned with forbidding imperial officials to enter the privileged localities, with exemptions from taxation, and with the right of jurisdiction; in other words, here was the real medieval immunity on the western feudal model.

It is usually supposed that the earliest charter (chrysobull) granting an exkuseia was issued in the middle of the eleventh century. But this alone cannot be a proof that no exkuseia was granted before, the more so as the style and expressions of the charters of the eleventh and twelfth centuries which are preserved indicate that the idea of exkuseia was at that time perfectly common, definite, and well known, requiring no explanation. Nor is this all. The charters of the emperors of the Macedonian dynasty, of the late ninth and of the tenth century, granted to the Athenian monks, show all the traits of exkuseia. A charter of Basil I (867-886) protects all those who “have chosen the hermit life on Mount Athos”[219] both from military commanders and imperial officials and from private citizens and peasants so “that no one shall disturb those monks or enter the inner places of Mount Athos.” This charter was confirmed by Basil’s son, Emperor Leo VI the Philosopher (886-912), Another confirmation of this charter granted by the “earlier reigning” emperors was made in the first half of the tenth century by a charter of Romanus I Lecapenus (919-944).[220]

In other Athenian documents on the demarcation of litigable lands on Mount Athos in the tenth century, there are references to the charters of the preiconoclast period, which have survived; these were the charters of the seventh century and the opening of the eighth issued by Constantine IV (668-685), Justinian II Rhinotmetus (685-695 and 705-711), as well as by the first restorer of icon worship, Empress Irene (797-802) and her son Constantine VI (780-797),[221] Of course it is impossible to tell exactly what these charters contained; but on the basis of the dispute which concerned the possession of land by the Athenian monks it may be supposed that they also dealt with immunities.[222]

The edict of the Emperor Justinian II, which was issued in September, 688, and which exists in an inscription, may be regarded as an example of immumty-exkuseia of an earlier period. By this edict Justinian II granted a salina in Thessalonica to the Church of St. Demetrius “for all following and everlasting years.” as its exclusive property which was exempted from any previous obligations. In his edict Justinian plainly expressed the purpose of his grant: the entire profit from the salina was to provide for the expenses of the illumination of the church, the daily substance of its clergy, necessary upkeep of the building, and all other needs of the clergy.[223]

The privileged monasteries which are sometimes called “monastery—

princedoms”[224] were developing from the period of Justinian the Great (527-565), and these monasterial immunities may be connected with the various privileges established in the fourth century for the Christian clergy by Constantine the Great and his successors.[225] It is true all these fragmentary observations on immunity in Byzantium deal exclusively with monasterial life. But many early charters (chrysobulls) have disappeared, and moreover the question of Byzantine immunity has been very little studied in general, especially in its history before the eleventh century. Even various published Byzantine sources, such as histories, chronicles, and lives of saints, have not been adequately estimated from this point of view. When this preparatory work is done, new and important material almost certainly will be available on the problem of lay exkuseia-immunity in Byzantium. And it may be inferred that Byzantine exkuseia in its origin goes back to the time of Roman immunity and is a part of the complicated social inheritance which the Christian Empire received from the pagan Empire.[226]

Further study of Byzantine prostasia-patronnge and exkuseia-immunity will be exceedingly important both for the better understanding of the internal life of Byzantium itself and for the internal history of the neighboring countries, Muhammedan and Slavonic, Old Russian in particular. The valuable studies on feudalism in Old Russia by N. Pavlov-Silvansky, who compared western patronage with Russian zakladnichestvo and western immunity with bayar samosud (right of jurisdiction among the Russian nobility), would have been still more valuable had the author not limited himself to western analogies but had also made use of Byzantine evidence.

Large landownership, the famous Roman latifundia, is also one of the characteristic features of the social structure of the Byzantine Empire. The powerful provincial magnates were at times so dangerous to the central power that the latter was compelled to undertake a stubborn struggle against them, often unsuccessfully.

In this respect the epoch of Justinian the Great, who energetically strove against the large landowners, is exceedingly interesting. The Secret History of Procopius as well as Justinian’s Novels give the most interesting material on this subject; the Secret History is a work of the sixth century, biased and one-sided, obviously reflecting the interests and ideas of the large landowners, but if properly used is an extremely valuable source on the internal history of the Byzantine Empire. This and the Novels reveal the Emperor’s struggle against the aristocracy based on landownership, a struggle which not only affected the sixth century but continued far later. One of Justinian’s novels addressed to the proconsul of Cappadocia blaming the desperate condition of state and private landownership in the provinces upon the unrestrained conduct of local magnates, contains these significant lines: “News has come to us of such exceedingly great abuses in the provinces that their correction can hardly be accomplished by one person of high authority. And we are even ashamed to tell with how much impropriety the managers of ‘landlords’ estates promenade about, surrounded by bodyguards, how they are followed by large mobs of people, and how shamelessly they steal everything.” Then after mentioning a few facts about private property, this novel goes on to say that “state property has almost entirely passed into private ownership, for it was stolen and plundered, including all the herds of horses, and not a single man spoke against it, for all mouths were stopped with gold.”[227]

From these statements it appears that the Cappadocian magnates had full authority in their provinces, and that they even maintained troops of their own, armed men and bodyguards, and seized private as well as state lands. Similar information about Egypt in the time of Justinian is found in the papyri. A member of the famous Egyptian landowning family of Apions possessed in the sixth century vast landed property in various parts of Egypt. Entire villages were part of his possessions. His household was almost regal. He had his secretaries and stewards, his hosts of workmen, his own assessors and tax collectors, his treasurer, his police, even his own postal service. Many of these magnates had their own prisons and maintained their own troops.[228]

Against these large landowners Justinian waged a merciless struggle. By various means he consciously and persistently aimed at the destruction of large landownership.

He was not completely successful, however, and large landownership remained an undying feature of the Empire in later periods.

A convinced enemy of large landownership by the laity, Justinian at the same time tended to preserve and augment church and monastery property. Justinian’s epoch is the most important step in the process of the formation in the Empire of the large church and monastery landownership which in connection with exkuseias-immunities created as it were feudal centers, monastery-principalities, or monastery-fiefs, which according to an historian, took in Byzantium the place of the duchies and counties of western Europe.[229] But the distinctive trait of a western European feudal state is first of all the instability, weakness, and sometimes disintegration of the central power. The large landowning Byzantine monasteries, from the feudal standpoint, were created and managed by antifeudal elements, because the abbots (igumens) who headed the monasteries possessed full power and were practically monarchs and autocrats in their own possessions. Perhaps this is one of the distinguishing peculiarities of Byzantine feudalism.

In the development of church and monastery landownership in Byzantium, the seventh century is of very great importance. After the conquest by the Arabs of Palestine and Egypt where monasticism was particularly flourishing, a considerable number of monks fled for refuge to the inland provinces of the Empire; old monasteries swarmed with refugees, and new monasteries were built. Therefore the second half of the seventh century and the beginning of the eighth can be justly regarded as the period when monastery landownership reached its climax. Because of many privileges, it undermined the finances of the state and as a great many robust young men entered monasteries and became therefore exempt from military service, it sapped the military power of the Empire. The state could not submit to such a situation. According to Vasilievsky “without much danger of error, it may be inferred that before the beginning of iconoclasm the Eastern Church was in no way inferior in size of land property to the Western Church. The Frankish kings had early begun to complain that their treasury was depleted and their riches had passed to the bishops and clergy; towards the end of the seventh century a whole third of the land in the Frankish state belonged to the Church. We believe that something similar was also the case in Byzantium at the same time.”[230]

It may be supposed that the Isaurian emperors who are chiefly famous for their iconoclastic policy waged their struggle not only against icons but also against monastery landownership or monastery feudalism.[231] In the iconoclastic epoch monastery lands were mercilessly confiscated, and the monks themselves, as well as those attached to the monasteries often not from a religious motive but for exemption from various state obligations, were reduced to lay estate, and thus forced to discharge their state duties.

But with the end of iconoclasm and the accession to the throne of the Macedonian dynasty circumstances changed. The number of monasteries increased again, and the amount of land which passed into monastery possession augmented still more rapidly.

Feudalizing processes in the church and monastery domain which had been

temporarily stopped by the iconoclastic emperors began to develop again in a direction undesirable and at times dangerous to the central power. The French scholar Charles Diehl wrote on this epoch: “Usurpations continued; the might of the large land aristocracy always grew; feudalism always developed. In the ninth century the crisis took a character of particular acuteness.”[232]

In the political life of the Empire a very striking analogy may be drawn between western European feudal lords, dukes (duces) and counts (comites) and the exarchs of the close of the sixth century, who under Emperor Maurice (582-602) stood at the head of the two vast territorial organizations, the exarchates of Ravenna and of Carthage or Africa. The exarchs or the governors general, first of all military officers, gradually concentrated in their hands the administrative and judicial functions and had the final word in the management of church affairs in the exarchate. Whenever the exarch arrived at Rome, he was accorded an almost imperial reception. The protocol of his entry into Rome became the model of the reception of Frankish kings or German emperors. The reception of Charlemagne in Rome in 774, for instance, was modeled after that of the exarch, and it remained authoritative for all imperial receptions in Rome during the Middle Ages.[233] It is not surprising that from time to time the exarchs raised the banner of revolt both at Carthage and at Ravenna and advanced claims to the imperial throne. At the opening of the seventh century, the revolt of the African exarch Heraclius resulted in the establishment of a new dynasty in Byzantium in the person of his son, also Heraclius.

It is relevant to emphasize the fact that the same Emperor Maurice under whom the two almost independent exarchates were instituted made a will when he was seriously ill several years before his death. This will was apparently not known during his lifetime; it was discovered and opened later, under Heraclius. In it Maurice divided his Empire among his children: he assigned Constantinople and the eastern provinces to his eldest son; Rome, Italy, and the islands to his second son; and distributed the rest of the Empire among his younger sons.[234] This will was not carried into effect because of the revolution of 602 when Maurice was overthrown; but it is interesting as an attempt at a typical feudal division such as often took place in the West in the epoch of the Merovingians and Carolingians as well as in Old Russia in the so-called “appanage period.”

The process of formation of a new provincial or, to use the Byzantine term, theme organization may also furnish some material for feudal analogies. In the seventh century in connection with the Persian, Arab, Bulgarian, and Slavonic dangers a reorganization of the provincial administration was carried out by appointing at the head of some vast territories military governors general who gradually obtained complete superiority over the civil authorities. These provincial governors later in the ninth and tenth centuries sometimes handed down their power and functions in their own families from generation to generation; they became as it were hereditary governors in their respective provinces and thus evaded direct control by the imperial power.[235] Their position was analogous to that of the hereditary counts and dukes of the West.

The almost permanent struggle on the eastern frontier in Asia Minor against the Arabs caused the so-called akritai to appear. Akrites (plural akritai) was a name applied during the Byzantine period to the defenders of the outermost borders of the Empire; it is derived from the Greek word akra, meaning border. The akritai sometimes enjoyed a certain amount of independence from the central government and are with some grounds to be compared with the western European margraves (meaning rulers of the borderland, marches) and with the cossacks of the ukraina (also meaning border), in the history of Russia. In these border districts where war was the normal state of things and security did not exist, “one felt,” according to a French historian, A. Rambaud, “far removed from the Byzantine Empire, and one might have been not in the provinces of an enlightened monarchy but in the midst of the feudal anarchy of the West.”[236] An English historian, J. B. Bury, says that the continuous strife against the Saracens (Arabs) in the East developed a new type of warrior, the kavallarios, i.e. a rider, knight (in German Ritter), “whose heart was set on adventure and who was accustomed to act independently of orders from the emperor or a military superior … In the tenth century many of them possessed large domains and resembled feudal barons rather than Roman officers.”[237] The famous families in Asia Minor of Phocas, Sclerus, Maleinus, and Philocales, with whom Basil II (976-1025) irreconcilably and continually struggled, are representatives of large landlords in Asia Minor who because of their vast land properties were not only a social anomaly in the Empire but also a serious political danger to the reigning dynasty, for they could group around them their own military forces. A man who received a pronoia upon condition of military service had the right or probably even the obligation to maintain a body of troops which, if circumstances allowed, he could bring to a considerable size. The famous Novels of the emperors of the Macedonian dynasty in defense of small landownership point out once more how threatening from the state standpoint was the development of large landownership.

The troubled period of the eleventh century was characterized by a struggle between the large landowners of Asia Minor who relied on their military forces, and the central government. The result was that in 1081 a representative of large landownership, Alexius Comnenus, took possession of the throne and founded a dynasty of long duration (1081-1185). But Alexius was forced to recognize Trebizond as an almost independent state and during his reign he took severe measures against the large landowners among both laity and clergy. A strong reaction against large landownership took place under the last emperor of the Comnenian dynasty, Andronicus I (1182-1185). But the former system triumphed again under the Angeli (1185-1204).

With the epoch of the crusades, western crusaders and other westerners appeared.

At first they only passed through the territory of the Empire; then, especially owing to the latinophile policy of Manuel I, they settled in great numbers and penetrated into all branches of Byzantine social and economic life. Finally after the Fourth Crusade they occupied the major part of the Byzantine Empire. By this time feudalizing processes in Byzantium had assumed so definite a shape that the westerners found nothing new to them in the general conditions of the Empire.

A mass of most interesting material for the study of feudalism in the Latin states established in the East in the epoch of the Crusades is found in the codes compiled there. The first place belongs to the so-called Assises of Jerusalem or the Letters of the Holy Sepulchre (Lettres du Sépulcre) which, according to later Jerusalemite tradition, were attributed to the first ruler of Jerusalem, Godfrey. Omitting here the complicated and debatable question of the different versions of the Assises and all discussion of the relation of the original code to the later Assises of Jerusalem, the Assises, whatever their origin, were purely thirteenth century law, and “the laws of Jerusalem were based on the feudal customs of eleventh century Europe as brought to the East by the men of the First Crusade.”[238] The Assises have the most fundamental significance both for better understanding of feudal relations in the Christian Orient in connection with local conditions and for the problem of feudalism in general. A French historian who made a special study of the institutions of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, Gaston Dodu, wrote: “The Assises de la Haute Cour [this was the section of the Assises treating of the relations between the Latin princes and their vassals] represent the old and the purest expression of French feudalism;” the compilers of the texts which have survived “wrote a complete treatise of feudal holdings superior to anything the Middle Ages have left us on this subject.” One must go to the Assises “to study the true character of feudalism.”[239] Very recently an American historian who wrote a very important book on the feudal monarchy in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, John L. La Monte, emphasized the same idea. He wrote: “The Assises de la Haute Cour are in essence French feudal law, and the feudal system of Jerusalem, if the feudal system be taken to mean only the relations between the landholding nobility, was pure western feudalism which the crusaders had brought with them from their western homes. Once established it was preserved. The forces which affected feudalism in the West had but little effect on the slower moving East. For there is truth in the old assertion that in the feudal system of Jerusalem we find an almost ideal system of feudalism. Western institutions of the eleventh and twelfth centuries are transplanted into a semi-virgin field and are retained into a later age when the west itself had largely abandoned them.”[240] Thus quite unexpectedly the Christian East has given into the hands of scholars a code of feudal law brought into a definite system, under whose conditions western Europe lived for a long time.

After the Fourth Crusade, the Assises of Jerusalem were introduced in Morea, which had been conquered by the crusaders, and in other Latin possessions established at that time on Byzantine territory as well as in the island of Cyprus; for the latter island the Assises were translated into Greek. The Assises of Antioch, which give a good idea of the laws of this Latin principality in the East, may serve as an excellent supplement to the Assises of Jerusalem. The original text of the Assises of Antioch has been lost; but their Armenian translation has survived, and in the nineteenth century this was translated into modern French. Thus these Franco-Eastern codes are of great importance for the history both of western European feudalism and of the Latin and Greco-Byzantine Orient, and even for certain sections of the Ottoman law.

The study of feudalism in Byzantium has just begun. In 1879 a Russian historian, V.

Vasilievsky, in connection with his discussion on pronoia, dropped the remark that only in the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli may one notice in Byzantium “a real embryo of a feudal order, although not the developed system.”[241] It is true that Vasilievsky never made any special study of Byzantine feudalism. He could not even imagine that any feudal processes might have existed in Byzantium before the close of the eleventh century, when the Comneni ascended the throne. Of course the well-organized feudal hierarchy which in the feudal society of the West created long lines of suzerains, vassals, and subvassals, was never formed in Byzantium. “But,” as Charles Diehl justly remarked, “in the Byzantine Empire the existence of this powerful provincial aristocracy had the same consequences as in the states of the western Middle Ages; especially whenever the central power became weakened, it was a terrible source of troubles and dissolution.”[242]

The so-called feudalizing processes in the social, political, and economic aspects may be observed in the Byzantine Empire through the whole course of its history.

9. The fall of Byzantium

Foreign policy of the Paleologi.

Constantinople, the Acropolis of the universe, the imperial capital of the Romans, which, by the will of God, was under the power of the Latins, has come again under the power of the Romans — this has been granted them by the will of God through us.”

These are the words in the autobiography of Michael Palaeologus, the first Emperor of the restored Byzantine Empire.[1]

General situation in the Empire.

The territory of Michael’s Empire was greatly reduced from the territory of Byzantium in the epoch of the Comneni and Angeli, especially after the First Crusade.

In 1261 the Empire comprised the northwestern corner of Asia Minor, the major part of Thrace and Macedonia, Thessalonica, and several islands in the northern part of the Aegean Sea (Archipelago). Accordingly, the Bosphorus and Hellespont, these exceedingly important strategic and commercial waterways, belonged to the restored Empire. The Despotat of Epirus came under the Empire’s suzerainty. At the very beginning of his reign Michael received as ransom for the prince of Achaia, William Villehardouin, captured by the Greeks in the battle of Castoria, three strong Frankish fortresses in the Peloponnesus: Monemvasia, situated on the eastern coast, the great rock rising out of the sea near the ancient Epidaurus Limera, which is “not only one of the most picturesque sites of the Peloponnesus, but has a splendid record of heroic independence which entitles it to a high place in the list of the world’s fortresses;”[2]

the well-known fortified castle of Mistra; and Maina, another castle erected by the Franks in the mountains of Taygetus to overawe the Slavs dwelling there. These three strongholds became the strategic bases of support from which the troops of the Byzantine emperors successfully fought the Frankish dukes.

But the rest of the formerly great Empire was menaced on all sides by peoples politically or economically strong: the Turks threatened from Asia Minor, the Serbs and Bulgars from the north; the Venetians occupied some of the islands of the Archipelago, the Genoese, certain points on the Black Sea, and the Latin knights, the Peloponnesus and a portion of Middle Greece. Michael Pataeologus was not able even to unite all the Greek centers. The Empire of Trebizond continued to live a separate and independent life and the Byzantine possessions in the Crimea — the theme of Cherson (Korsun) with the adjacent country frequently referred to as “the Gothic Klimata” — were in the power of the emperors of Trebizond and paid them tribute. The Despotat of Epirus was only to a certain extent dependent upon the restored Empire of Michael. Under Michael Palaeologus the Empire reached the widest limits of the last period of its existence, but these limits were preserved only during his reign, so that “in this respect Michael Palaeologus was the first and also the last powerful emperor of restored Byzantium.”[3] The Empire of the first Palaeologus resembled, to the French scholar, Diehl, “a slender, dislocated, miserable body upon which rested an enormous head —

Constantinople.”[4]

The capital, which had never recovered after the sack of 1204, passed into the hands of Michael in a state of decay and ruin; the best and richest buildings stood as if recently sacked; the churches had been robbed of their precious furnishings; the palace of Blachernae, which, from the time of the Comneni, had been the imperial residence and had dazzled strangers with its rich decorations and mosaics, was completely devastated; inside it was, said a Greek contemporary, “full of Italian smoke and fume”[5] from the carousals of the Latin emperors, and was therefore uninhabitable.

Though the Byzantine Empire of the Palaeologi continued to be of great

importance from a cultural standpoint, Constantinople ceased to be one of the centers of European policy. “After the restoration under the Palaeologi the Empire has almost exclusively the local significance of a national Greek medieval kingdom, which, in substance, is the continuation of the Empire of Nicaea, though it established itself in the Blachernae and arrayed itself in the antiquated forms of the old Byzantine Empire.”[6] Round this aging organism younger peoples were growing and gathering strength, especially the Serbs of the fourteenth century under Stephen Dušan (Dushan) and the Ottoman Turks. The enterprising commercial Italian republics, Genoa and Venice, especially the former, got control of the whole trade of the Empire, which became wholly dependent on them financially and economically. The only question was which of these peoples would put an end to the Empire of the eastern Christians, seize Constantinople, and become master of the Balkan peninsula. The history of the fourteenth century was to answer this question in favor of the Turks.

But if in the sphere of political international life Byzantium under the Palaeologi played a secondary part, its internal life was of great importance. In the epoch of the Palaeologi one may note the interesting fact of the rise of patriotism among the Greek people, accompanied by a turning back to the glories of ancient Greece. For instance, officially the emperors continued to bear the usual title of “basileus and autocrat of the Romans,” but some prominent men of the time tried to persuade the basileus to take the new title of “Emperor of the Hellenes.” The former vast Empire, made up of different nationalities, was transformed into a state small in its territorial limits and Greek in its composition. In the manifestation of Hellenic patriotism in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and in the profound enthusiasm felt for the glorious Hellenic past one may see, not without reason, one of the elements which in the nineteenth century was to contribute to the regeneration of modern Greece. Moreover, the epoch of the Palaeologi, when in the Empire the elements of East and West were marvelously interwoven, was marked by a powerful spiritual and artistic culture, which, considering the severe external and internal troubles, is at first sight unexpected. At that time Byzantium produced not a few scholars and educated men, writers, sometimes of very original talent, in the most varied fields of knowledge. And such monuments of art as the mosaics in the mosque of Kahrieh jami (Qahriye-jami, the Byzantine church of the Chora), the Peloponnesian Mistra, and the churches of Athos are the basis for appreciation of the importance of artistic creation under the Palaeologi. This artistic flowering has often been compared with the primitive renaissance of art in western Europe, that is to say, the earlier period of Italian Humanism. These phenomena in the field of literature and art and the most important problems which made their appearance in connection with them in the works of many scholars of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries belong to a later section on Byzantine culture in the epoch of the Palaeologi.

To the time of the Palaeologi belong the least investigated problems of Byzantine history. The reason is the extraordinary complexity of the history of the epoch, in external and especially in internal affairs, on the one hand, and on the other, the abundance and variety of the sources, many of which have not yet been published and are preserved in manuscript collections in western and eastern libraries. To date, there exists no complete monograph on any of the Palaeologi which covers all phases of their rule; the existing essays treat of only one side or another of their activity. There is one exception. In 1926 appeared a monograph on Michael Palaeologus by C. Chapman, brief and superficial but of general character.[7]

The dynasty of the Palaeologi belonged to a very well-known Greek family which, beginning with the first Comneni, gave Byzantium many energetic and gifted men, especially in the military field. They became related, in the course of time, to the imperial families of the Comneni, Ducae, and Angeli; on the strength of this relationship the first Palaeologi, Michael VIII always, Andronicus II for the most part, as well as his coemperor and son, Michael IX, and sometimes, perhaps, Andronicus III, signed four family names, for example, Michael Ducas Angelus Comnenus Palaeologus.

Later on the Emperors signed only “Palaeologus.”[8]

The dynasty of the Palaeologi occupied the Byzantine throne for one hundred and ninety-two years (1261-1453), the longest dynasty in the whole course of Byzantine history.[9] The first Palaeologus who mounted the throne of the shaken and greatly curtailed Eastern Empire, Michael VIII (1261-82), cunning, cruel, but talented and an artful diplomat, succeeded in saving the Empire from the terrible danger from the West, that is, from the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and bequeathed the throne to his son Andronicus II the Elder (1282-1328), whom “nature had intended for a professor of theology but accident had made a Byzantine emperor.”[10] Andronicus married twice.

His first wife, Anne, was a daughter of the king of Hungary, Stephen V; his second wife, Violanta-Irene, a sister of the north-Italian marquess of Montferrat, after her brother’s death, became the heiress to the margravate; unable as a Byzantine empress to accept the margravate, she sent there one of her sons who founded at Montferrat the dynasty of the Palaeologi, which ceased only in the first half of the sixteenth century.[11]

Andronicus in 1295 crowned with the imperial crown his eldest son by his first wife, Michael. Michael died in 1320, before his father, and is often referred to in historical works as his father’s coemperor, Michael IX. Negotiations were entered upon to marry Michael to Catherine de Courtenay, daughter of the titulary Emperor of Romania (of the former Latin Empire), and the pope was greatly interested in this project;[12] but, in the end, Michael married an Armenian princess, Xenia-Maria.

The son of Michael IX and grandson of Andronicus II, young Andronicus, was for many years during his father’s lifetime his grandfather’s favorite. But Andronicus was frivolous and given to love affairs, and one of his adventures ended in the accidental murder of his brother and as a result the premature death of his father, Michael IX.

This entirely changed the grandfather’s attitude. Civil war broke out between grandfather and grandson. Against Andronicus the Elder formed a strong party of opponents whose leading spirit was the later famous Cantacuzene. The civil war ended in favor of Andronicus the Younger who, in 1328, suddenly seized Constantinople and induced Andronicus the Elder to abdicate. The old deposed Emperor, whose long reign had been a new period of decay for Byzantium, ended his days as a monk. He died in 1332.

At the head of the government of Andronicus the Younger (1328-1341) stood the chief leader in his rebellion, John Cantacuzene, into whose hands passed the internal administration and the foreign affairs of the Empire. The new Emperor, giving himself up as before to amusements and hunting parties, felt no inclination to occupy himself with state affairs, but nevertheless took a personal part in the many wars fought during his reign. Cantacuzene was not satisfied with the tremendous influence he had obtained, for he aimed at the imperial throne, or at least at an omnipotent regency.

This idea possessed him during the thirteen years of Andronicus’ government and was the motivating force of all his activity. Andronicus’ mother, the widow Xenia-Maria, and his second wife, a western princess, Anne of Savoy,[13] were both hostile to Cantacuzene. But by various intrigues he succeeded in maintaining his position until the very death of Andronicus.

At the death of Andronicus III in 1341, the new Emperor, John V, his eldest son, was hardly eleven years of age (1341-91). A long civil war, in which John Cantacuzene played the chief part, was fought around the throne of the boy Emperor. Against John Cantacuzene there formed a strong party consisting of the widow of the late Emperor, Anne of Savoy, who had been proclaimed regent; her partisan and the former favorite of Cantacuzene, the ambitious and powerful Alexius Apocaucus, the patriarch; and others. The characteristic feature of the civil strife of the fourteenth century was the participation, now on one side, now on the other, of foreign peoples pursuing their own political aims, Serbs, Bulgars, and especially Seljuq Turks as well as Ottoman Turks.

Several months after the death of Andronicus III, Cantacuzene, in one of the cities of Thrace, proclaimed himself Emperor (John VI). Shortly after, the solemn coronation of John V Palaeologus was celebrated in Constantinople. Thus in the Empire there appeared two emperors. Cantacuzene, who had found strong support from the Turks (he had even married his daughter to an Ottoman sultan), gained the upper hand. His chief rival Apocaucus was slain in Constantinople. Cantacuzene was crowned at Hadrianople by the patriarch of Jerusalem, who put on the head of the new emperor a golden crown. Then the capital opened its gates to him. The regent Anne of Savoy was induced to yield, and Cantacuzene was recognized Emperor on a par with John Palaeologus. In 1347, Cantacuzene was crowned for the second time, and his daughter Helena was married to the young Palaeologus. Cantacuzene’s ambitious plans were realized.

In the same year there stood for a short time at the head of the government in Rome a famous dreamer imbued with the recollections of the past glory of the Roman Republic, the tribune Cola di Rienzo. Cantacuzene sent him an embassy with a letter of congratulation upon his attainment of power over Rome.[14]

The stormy rule of Cantacuzene, during which John Palaeologus was pushed into the background, was important for the international relations of the epoch. For himself Cantacuzene devoted his energies to superseding Palaeologus; he proclaimed his son Emperor, declared him coemperor and heir, and forbade the name of John Palaeologus to be mentioned in the churches or at public festivities. But Cantacuzene’s influence with the people was gradually declining, and the last blow to his popularity was dealt by the establishment of the Turks in Europe. With the co-operation of the Genoese, John Palaeologus entered Constantinople at the end of 1354. Compelled to abdicate, Cantacuzene took the monastic habit under the name of Ioasaph and spent the rest of his life in writing his important memoirs.[15] In a Greek manuscript in the National Library of Paris are preserved two interesting miniatures of Cantacuzene; in one Cantacuzene is represented twice, in imperial robes and in monastic raiment. His son also abdicated.

John V Palaeologus finally became sole Emperor, but received, especially after the destructive civil war and foreign failures, a pitiful heritage. According to T. Florinsky,

“Some islands and one province (Thrace) thoroughly ruined and depopulated, on one side of which, close to the capital, the rapacious Genoese had a footing, while on the other side rose the powerful Turkish state: this was the Empire which he had to govern.”[16]

Moreover, John’s family troubles were not ended. He had never been intimate with his eldest son Andronicus, who in 1376, with the help of the Genoese, deposed his father, was crowned as Andronicus IV (1376-79), and made his son John coemperor.

The old John V, as well as his favorite son and heir, Manuel, were put in prison. In 1379

John V succeeded in escaping and, with the help of the Turks, regained his throne. John V and Andronicus came to an agreement which lasted until the death of the latter in 1385. After that John V, disregarding his grandson John, crowned as coemperor his son Manuel. Finally, at the very end of the reign of John V, a rebellion was raised against him by his grandson. In 1390 the young John seized Constantinople and governed it, but only for a few months, under the title of John VII. New documents from the archives of Venice indicate that John’s rebellion of 1390 was organized by Sultan Bayazid. The Venetian Senate, as usual very well-informed of the situation in Constantinople through its merchants, apparently judged it probable that Bayazid would be at that time on the Byzantine throne. In any case, in the instructions given the Venetian envoys about to go to Constantinople in 1390, they were admonished: “If you find Murad’s son [Bayazid] in Constantinople, you must try to obtain from him the repeal of the sequestration of Venetian vessels.”[17] Owing to the activity of Manuel, John V was restored. At the beginning of 1391 John V died after a long, stormy and unhappy reign. His son Manuel became Emperor (1391-1425).

A short time before his ascension to the throne the new Emperor had married Helena, daughter of the ruler of Northern Macedonia, Constantine Dragosh (Dragases), a Slav, or, as C. Jireček said, “the only Serbian who became Empress of Byzantium.”[18]

She gave birth to six sons, of whom two became the last Byzantine emperors, John VIII and Constantine XI; the latter is often given the Slavonic name of his grandfather on his mother’s side, Dragosh (Dragases). The two last Palaeologi on the imperial throne were accordingly half-Slav. A picture of Helena, surnamed Palaeologina, is on a beautiful miniature in a precious Greek manuscript at the museum of the Louvre in Paris. In this miniature are Emperor Manuel, his wife Helena, and three of their sons, crowned by the Virgin Mary. This manuscript, one of the jewels of the Louvre, containing the works of St. Dionysius the Areopagite, was sent to Paris by Manuel as a present some years after his return to Constantinople from Paris.[19] Another portrait of Helena has been preserved on a lead seal or molybdobullon.[20]

Manuel, handsome, noble, very well educated, and endowed with literary talent, even as a youth during his father’s lifetime felt sharply all the horror of the situation of the Empire and all the humiliating burden of his heritage. When the government of Thessalonica was confided to him by his father, he entered into negotiations with the population of a Macedonian city captured by the troops of the Sultan Murad with the aim of annihilating the Turkish garrison and freeing the city from the Turkish yoke.

The sultan learned of the plan and determined to punish severely the governor of Thessalonica. Unable to make an adequate resistance, Manuel, after a fruitless attempt to take refuge with his frightened father, set out directly to the residence of Murad and expressed to him his repentance for his behavior. “The impious but reasonable sultan,”

said a historian of the fifteenth century, “favorably kept him as a guest for several days, and, supplying him when he took his leave, with food for his journey and rich presents, sent him back to his father with a letter in which he begged John V to pardon his son for what he had done in ignorance.” In his valedictory address to Manuel, Murad said:

“Govern peacefully what belongs to you and do not seek for foreign lands. But if you have need of money or any other support, I shall always be glad to fulfill your request.”[21]

Later, Murad’s successor Bayazid required that John V send him, with the stipulated tribute, his son Manuel and some Greek auxiliaries. Manuel was compelled to yield and take part in a predatory Turkish expedition through various regions of Asia Minor. His humiliation, complete impotence, and the privations of the expedition are clearly felt in Manuel’s letters. Having described famine, cold, fatigue, and the crossing of the mountains, “where even wild beasts could not feed,” Manuel made a tragic remark: “all this is being suffered jointly by the whole army; but one thing is unbearable for us: we are fighting with them [the Turks] and for them, and it means that we increase their strength and decrease ours.”[22] In another letter Manuel wrote an account of the destroyed cities which he had seen during the expedition: “To my question what was the name of those cities, those whom I asked, answered: ‘As we have destroyed them, so time has destroyed their names;’ and immediately sorrow seized me; but I sorrow silently, being still able to conceal my feelings.”[23] Such humiliation and subserviency towards the Turks Manuel had been forced to suffer before he ascended the throne.

His nobility was manifest when he redeemed his father John V from the Venetians who, on the Emperor’s return from Italy, had arrested him at Venice on account of his failure to pay back borrowed money. While the eldest son of John, Andronicus, who ruled the Empire in his father’s absence, was deaf to John’s prayers to collect the sum due, Manuel obtained it at once and, going to Venice in person, redeemed his father from his humiliating captivity.

After his long and painful reign Manuel, in the last years of his life, withdrew from state affairs, which he entrusted to his son John, and devoted all his time to the study of the Scriptures. Shortly after, Manuel was struck with apoplexy; two days before his death he took holy orders under the name of Matthias (Matthew).

His son and successor, John VIII, reigned from 1425 to 1448. The new Emperor was married three times, and all three wives belonged to different nationalities. His first wife was a young Russian princess, Anna, daughter of the grand prince of Moscow, Vasili I; she lived in Constantinople only three years, but in that short time she became very popular in the capital. She fell a victim to the plague. John’s second wife was an Italian, Sophia of Montferrat, a woman of lofty spiritual qualities but so unattractive in appearance that John felt only repulsion for her; the Byzantine historian Ducas, who describes her appearance, gave a popular proverb of his time: “Lent in front and Easter behind.”[24] She could not bear her humiliating position at court, and, with the help of the Genoese of Galata and to the satisfaction of her husband, fled to Italy, where she ended her days in monastic retirement. His third wife John found in a princess of Trebizond, Maria (Mary), of the house of the Comnent, “who was distinguished for her beauty and good manners.”[25] The attractiveness of this charming lady is remarked both by a Byzantine historian, and by a French pilgrim to the Holy Land, who was enraptured by the beauty of the basilissa when he saw her leaving St. Sophia.[26] She possessed great influence over the Emperor, who outlived her. There stands today in one of the Princes Islands (near Constantinople) a small chapel of the Holy Virgin erected by the beautiful Empress of Trebizond.

John VIII had no children by any of his three wives. When he died in the autumn of 1448, the question of an heir arose. The Empress mother, Manuel II’s wife, who was still alive; the brothers of the late Emperor; and the highest officials of Constantinople fixed their choice upon Constantine, one of the brothers of John VIII, who at that time was the Despot of Morea. The sultan was informed of the choice of the new Emperor and approved the candidate. A deputation was sent to Morea, which notified Constantine of his election to the tottering throne of the once great Empire of Byzantium. At the beginning of 1449, from medieval Sparta, that is from the residence of the Despot at Mistra, he sailed at once for Constantinople in a Catalonian vessel and was solemnly received by the people. It was long believed that Constantine XI was crowned by a layman. But it is now known, since the publication of the works of John Eugenicus by Sp. Lampros, that the coronation of Constantine XI was never performed officially at all. The Church demanded that it should be performed by the patriarch, but it was probably postponed because of the tense antagonism between the partisans of the union of the churches and their opponents.[27] Constantine had been twice married, both of his wives belonging to Latin families which had established themselves in the Christian East — one to the family of Tocco, the other to the Genoese dynasty in the island of Lesbos, of Gattilusio — but both had died before Constantine’s election to the Byzantine throne. The negotiations concerning a third wife for the new Emperor, in the West and East, at Venice, Portugal, Trebizond, and Iberia (Georgia), came to nothing.

The fall of Constantinople and Constantine’s death prevented the fulfillment of these matrimonial plans. His intimate friend, a diplomat and historian of the epoch of the Palaeologi, George Phrantzes, preserved in his History an interesting description of his mission to find a bride for the Emperor in Trebizond and Iberia.[28] The French historian Diehl remarked that, despite continued matrimonial intercourse between the Byzantine emperors and western princesses, at the critical moment the eyes of the last Emperor, in search of a bride, turned to the near, congenial, and kindred East.[29]

Constantine XI was killed in May 1453, at the taking of Constantinople by the Turks. On the site of the Christian eastern monarchy was founded the strong military empire of the Ottoman Turks.

Of the brothers who survived Constantine, Demetrius Palaeologus was captured by Muhammed II, to whom his daughter was married, and died at Hadrianople as a monk, under the name of David. Another brother, Thomas, ended his days in Italy dreaming of a crusade against the Turks, receiving from the pope his means of subsistence. His son Andreas (Andrew), who had already become a Catholic, was the only legitimate representative of the dynasty of the Palaeologi who possessed rights to the lost Byzantine throne. An interesting document exists in which Andreas Palaeologus transmitted his rights to the Empires of Constantinople and Trebizond as well as to the Despotat of Serbia to the king of France, Charles VIII. When the latter at the end of the fifteenth century undertook his expedition against Naples, he considered it only as the steppingstone to eventual conquest of Constantinople and Jerusalem. In other words, at the end of the fifteenth century dreams of a crusade still existed. Andreas’ transmission of his rights to Charles VIII seems never to have been fully carried out, for later Andreas again transmitted his rights to the Byzantine throne to Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain (Castile).[30] This act, of course, had no practical result.

Zoë, the daughter of Thomas Palaeologus and the sister of Andreas, was married to the far distant Grand Prince of Moscow, Ivan (John) III, and is known in Russian sources as Sophia Palaeologina. A Russian historian, Kluchevsky, said: “As heiress to the declining house of Byzantium, the new Tsarina of Russia had transferred the supreme rights of the Byzantine house to Moscow, as to a new Tsargrad, and there shared them with her husband.”[31]

Moscow began to be compared with “seven-hilled Rome” and called “the third Rome.” The Grand Prince of Moscow became “Tsar of all Orthodoxy,” and Moscow as the capital of the Russian state became “the new city of Constantine” (i.e., a new Constantinople-Tsargrad).[32] A Russian scholar of the beginning of the sixteenth century, the monk Philotheus, wrote; “Two Romes have fallen, and the third stands, while a fourth is not to be.” The pope called the attention of the successor of Ivan III to his right to defend his “patrimony of Constantinople.”[34] Thus, the fall of Constantinople and the marriage of Ivan III to Sophia Palaeologina brought up the problem of the rights of the rulers of Moscow, those representatives and defenders of eastern Orthodoxy, to the throne of the Byzantine Empire which was seized by the Ottoman Turks m 1453.

The external policy of Michael VIII.

Byzantium and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, Charles of Anjou, and the Sicilian Vespers. — The attitude of Michael VIII towards the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies is the keystone to his external policy. In connection with this attitude were developing and shaping his relations with the Italian republics, Genoa and Venice, as well as with the papal curia. His relations with the Turks in the East also depended upon his western policy.

At the close of the twelfth century, the king of Germany, Henry VI Hohenstaufen, Frederick Barbarossa’s son, owing to his marriage with the Norman princess Constance, heiress to the Norman state in southern Italy and Sicily, gained control of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and inherited the stubborn enmity of the Normans for Byzantium and their aggressive plans. The union of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies with Germany lasted till 1250, when, at the death of Frederick II Hohenstaufen, his natural son Manfred became king of Sicily. The legitimate son of Frederick, Conrad, began to rule in Germany and reigned for a short time. Under the rule of Manfred, who took care not only of the material but also of the spiritual interests of his kingdom, Sicily enjoyed a period of peace. His court was the most brilliant of that time; foreign rulers esteemed him highly; and the last Latin Emperor Baldwin II, who had fled from Constantinople, appealed to him for help in regaining his lost throne. With regard to Byzantium, Manfred adopted the policy of his predecessors which must have seriously alarmed Michael VIII, especially from the point of view of possible Latin re-establishment at Constantinople. Baldwin II, deprived of his throne, appeared at Manfred’s court with definite plans and requests for help. Moreover, the podestá (the chief representative) of the Genoese who lived at Constantinople and possessed at that time exceptionally favorable trade conditions in Byzantium, entered into negotiations with Manfred. He proposed to him a plan for the sudden capture of Constantinople and the restoration of Latin dominion there. Informed of this, the infuriated Michael VIII sent the Genoese away from the capital and opened negotiations with Venice, the result of which was a new treaty with the Republic of St. Mark restoring and confirming the previous privileges of the Venetians, and binding them, along with the Greeks, to fight against the Genoese if they opened hostilities against the Empire.

But Manfred had no time to take actual steps against Byzantium; he fell a victim to papal intrigue. The pope, seeing that after the death of Frederick II, the irreconcilable enemy of the papacy, the strength of the Hohenstaufens was weakened, determined to deal a death blow to the hated dynasty by destroying Manfred. Charles of Anjou, brother of the king of France, Louis IX (St. Louis), became the executor of the papal plans. In inviting Charles to take the Kingdom of Sicily, the pope had in view not only the destruction of the Hohenstaufens, but also the help which Charles would furnish for the restoration of the Latin Empire in the East. At least, in 1265, Pope Clement IV

expressed the hope that with the aid of Charles “the position of the Roman Empire would be restored” (imperii Romani status reformabitur).[35] Accepting the pope’s proposal to interfere in south-Italian affairs, Charles of Anjou opened the era of French expeditions to Italy—an era very destructive to the essential interests and needs of France which, for several centuries, was to spend her energy and means on Italy, instead of turning her forces and attention to her nearest neighbors, for example, to the Netherlands and the Rhinelands.

Few prominent figures of history have been portrayed by historians so darkly as Charles of Anjou, and perhaps they have not been quite just. Recent works on Charles have put aside forever the legend which made him a real tyrant, “covetous, cunning, and wicked, always ready to drown in blood the smallest resistance.”[36] In their appeals to Charles the popes seem not to have taken into consideration the distinctive features of his character which entirely precluded the possibility of his becoming a mere tool in the hands of another. He was a well-trained, energetic, at times severe, even cruel, ruler, but not without cheerfulness, a love of tournaments, and an interest in poetry, art, and science; above all he was unwilling to become a puppet in the hands of the pope who had invited him to Italy.

On his coming to Italy with an army, Charles crushed Manfred at Beneventum in 1266. With Manfred’s death, Sicily and Naples came under French sway. Charles of Anjou became the new king of the Two Sicilies. The French began to leave their country in masses and emigrate into Charles’ new dominions, where general conditions were excellent.[37]

Shortly after, Charles’ attitude toward Byzantium was clearly shown. With the consent and in the presence of the pope, at Viterbo, a small Italian city north of Rome, he made a treaty with the expelled Latin Emperor, Baldwin II, in which the latter transmitted to Charles his right to the supreme power over all Frankish dominions in the former Latin Empire, reserving to himself only Constantinople and several islands in the Archipelago, which Charles was to help him reconquer from the Greeks. The Norman claims to Byzantium thus revived again in full measure under the French sway in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies.

Realizing fully the approaching danger, Michael VIII had recourse to skillful diplomacy. On the one hand, by means of negotiations with the pope concerning the union between the eastern and western churches, Michael diverted him from close co-operation with Charles, and made him wish for a conciliatory policy regarding Byzantium. On the other hand, Michael decided to make peace with the Genoese who, as has been mentioned above, had established relations with Manfred of Sicily, planned to hand Constantinople over to the Latins, and thereupon had been expelled from the capital. The Genoese were allowed to return to Constantinople, where some quarters were allotted to them not in the city itself, but in its suburb of Galata, across the Golden Horn. This distance did not prevent the Genoese from regaining all their former trade privileges, expanding their commercial activity, and forcing the Venetians, their rivals, into the background. A Genoese of the family of Zaccana, for example, who obtained from the Emperor the right to work and exploit rich deposits of alum in the mountains of Asia Minor, near the city of Phocaea (in Italian, Fogia, Foglia) at the entrance into the Gulf of Smyrna, made a colossal fortune.[38] Finally, all over the Byzantine East, under the Palaeologi, Genoa took the place of Venice.

Meanwhile, Charles of Anjou seized the island of Corfu, which was the first step in carrying out his plan of invading Byzantium. Michael VIII, hoping to be more successful in his conciliatory policy towards the pope and to imitate the aggressive policy of Charles of Anjou, appealed to the latter’s brother, the king of France, Louis IX, who was the most pious, just, and esteemed ruler of that time. Shortly before Michael’s appeal to him, England had begged him to be arbiter and to settle some complicated problems of her internal life. Circumstances tended to involve Louis also in the history of Byzantium. Michael sent Louis IX a manuscript of the New Testament adorned with miniatures. When at the close of the seventh decade the Byzantine envoys arrived in France “in view of the reunion of the Greek and Roman churches,” Michael proposed to the king of France that he should “settle as an arbiter the conditions of the union of the two churches, and assured him in advance of his full concurrence.”[39]

At the outset, Louis IX disapproved of the decision of his brother Charles to conquer southern Italy and only later does he seem to have become reconciled to the fait accompli, probably because he was persuaded of its utility for a future crusade.

Moreover, Charles’ plan of conquering Byzantium also met with Louis’ serious objection, because, if the main forces of Charles were diverted to Constantinople, they would be unable to take an adequate part in the crusade to the Holy Land, an idea which strongly influenced Louis. Besides, Michael’s decision, with which Louis had been acquainted through the embassy, to beg him to be arbiter in the problem of the church union, and the Emperor’s promise to submit entirely to his decision, inclined the king of France, a zealous Catholic, to the side of the Byzantine Emperor.

It could hardly be expected that pressure from Louis would really persuade his warlike brother to give up his aggressive plans against the Empire. But Charles was somewhat delayed in his hostilities against Byzantium by Louis’ second crusade to Tunis, which encroached upon the policy of Charles in the West. The question of Charles’ attitude as to the origin of this crusade, is one on which scholars’ opinions vary.[40] The sudden death of Louis in Tunis in 1270 destroyed Michael’s hopes of his co-operation. The Byzantine, envoys, who had arrived in Tunis for negotiations a short time before Louis’ death, went back, said a Greek source, “with hands empty of promises.”[41] Charles made his appearance in Tunis and after two brilliant victories compelled the emir of Tunis to make peace on his terms, that the emir should indemnify Charles for his military expenses and pay him an annual tribute. Charles then decided to carry out his plan of invading Byzantium. But on his way back from Tunis a terrible storm destroyed a major part of his fleet, so that, at least for a time, he was unable to undertake the offensive against Byzantium on such a large scale as he had planned.

At the beginning of the seventies, however, Charles was able to send a considerable number of auxiliaries to the Peloponnesus, into Achata, where they fought successfully against the imperial troops. At the same time Charles succeeded in establishing himself in the Balkan peninsula. He seized several fortified places, the most important of which was Dyrrachium (Durazzo, Drač), on the east coast of the Ionian Sea; the Albanian mountaineers became Charles’ subjects, and the Despot of Epirus took the oath to him.

Accordingly, the king of the Two Sicilies began to style himself the king of Albania (regnum Albaniae).[42]

In a document he names himself “by the Grace of God the King of Sicily and Albania” (Dei gratia rex Sicilie et Albanie).[43] In a letter Charles writes that the Albanians “elected us and our heirs kings and perpetual masters of the said kingdom”

(nos et heredes nostros elegerunt in reges et dominos perpetuos dicti Regni).[44] An Italian historian of the twentieth century remarks: “When Charles’ work is better studied and known, he will appear in his true light, as a dim precursor of the political and civil autonomy of the Albanian people that, even at the beginning of the twentieth century, seems a dream and a vague and indetermined aspiration.”[45] But Charles was not satisfied. He addressed the Serbs and Bulgars and found in them zealous allies. The envoys of “imperatons Vulgarorum et regts Servie” appeared at his court.[46] The southern Slavs began to crowd into his service and to emigrate into his Italian dominions. A Russian scholar, who was well acquainted with the Italian archives and from them drew a great deal of information on the Slavs, V. Makushev, wrote that, in spite of the incomplete and laconic material, “one may form an idea of the course of the Slavonic settlements in southern Italy and of the great number of Slavs pouring from all quarters of the south-Slavonic world into the service of the Angevins … The Slavonic settlements in southern Italy, from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, are constantly increasing: new ones are being founded, the old ones are growing.”[47] In a document of 1323 at Naples is mentioned “a quarter called Bulgarian” (vicus qui vocatur Bulgarus).[48] The Serbian and Bulgarian envoys arrived in Naples for negotiations. Obviously serious danger threatened Byzantium from the Slavo-French allies. Moreover, Venice, which occupied a most important place in the political, economic, and commercial life of Charles’ realm, was also on a friendly footing with him and for the time being supported his imperialistic policy in the East.[49] In addition, the last Emperor of Nicaea, John IV Lascaris, deposed and blinded by Michael VIII, escaped from his Byzantine prison and, at Charles’ invitation, appeared at his court.

Thus, around Charles of Anjou gradually assembled all those who were dissatisfied with and offended by the Byzantine Emperor; the Serbs and Bulgars, Baldwin II and John IV Lascaris, even cautious Venice, became tools in the hands of the ambitious and skillful king. The marriage between Baldwin’s son and Charles’ daughter gave Baldwin the hope, with the aid of his new relative, of restoring the Latin Empire. Such was the general international situation in Italy and the Balkan peninsula, which must have roused extreme fear in Michael VIII for Constantinople and his throne.[50]

But the skillful politician Charles faced in Michael VIII a politician no less skillful, who concentrated his chief attention upon the papal curia, to which he promised the union of the churches. Pope Gregory X willingly inclined to the desire of the Emperor, not only from fear of the increasing power of Charles, which could not but alarm him, but because of his sincere desire to establish ecclesiastical peace and unity and to further the liberation of Jerusalem. In his peaceful policy of coming to an understanding with the eastern church Gregory X undoubtedly met many obstacles from Charles, who was planning the forcible subjugation of the Emperor. But the pope succeeded in persuading Charles to postpone for a year the expedition against Byzantium already decided on, and within that time he accomplished the union with the eastern church.

The envoys of Michael Palaeologus to the council, which was to be held in the French city of Lyons, passed safely through the dominions of Charles, who provided them with special safe conducts and provisions.[51] At Lyons in 1274, the union was achieved between the pope and the representatives of Michael VIII. According to newly studied Vatican documents, this union led at once to negotiations between Gregory X

and Michael VIII concerning a new anti-Turkish league. A cardinal of high rank went to Constantinople in the depth of winter. The date and place for a personal conference of the pope and the Emperor were immediately fixed: the two venerable personages were to meet on Easter Monday, 1276, at Brindisi or at Valona. But at the very beginning of that year, on January 6, the pope suddenly died, and the project came to nothing.[52]

Michael, however, felt that the union gave him the right to hope for papal support in his plans to reconquer the regions of the Balkan peninsula, which had formerly been under the power of the Empire. Accordingly he opened hostilities against the troops of Charles and his allies and met with great success, because Charles was at the time diverted by some difficulties with Genoa.

But after some friction with the pope, evoked by the union of Lyons, Charles succeeded in seating upon the papal throne one of his best friends, a Frenchman, Martin IV, who supported entirely the policy of the Sicilian king and broke the union with Michael. Then in 1281 a treaty was concluded between Charles, the titulary Latin Emperor, and Venice “for the recovery of the Empire of Romania which is under the sway of the Palaeologus” (ad recuperationem ejusdem Imperii Romaniae, quod detinetur per Paleologum).[53] Avast coalition formed against Byzantium: the troops of the Latin possessions on the former territory of the Byzantine Empire, the troops of Italy and of Charles’ native France, the Venetian fleet, the papal forces, and the armies of the Serbs and Bulgars. The Byzantine Empire seemed to be on the brink of ruin, and Charles of Anjou, the “forerunner of Napoleon in the thirteenth century,”[54] had world power in his grasp. A Greek author of the fourteenth century, Gregoras, wrote that Charles “was dreaming, if he took possession of Constantinople, of the whole monarchy of Julius Caesar and Augustus.”[55] Sanudo, a western chronicler of the same time, said that Charles “was aspiring to world monarchy” (asperava alla monarchia del mondo).[56] It was the most critical moment in Michael’s external policy. In 1281

Michael VIII opened negotiations with the Egyptian Sultan Qala’un concerning the military alliance “against the common enemy,” to wit against Charles of Anjou.[56a]

Deliverance to Byzantium came suddenly from the West, from Sicily, where on March 31, 1282 a revolt against French domination burst out; it spread rapidly all over the island and has become known in history as the Sicilian Vespers.[57] Michael VIII had some part in this rebellion, The Sicilian Vespers, one of the most important events in the early history of the political unification of Italy, always brings to mind a work of the famous Italian historian and patriot, Michele Amari, The War of the Sicilian Vespers. This book, written at the beginning of the fifth decade of the nineteenth century, has been edited many times and has formed the basis for scientific study of this problem. Of course, in Amari’s lifetime many of the sources were inaccessible, and Amari himself, gradually becoming acquainted with new discoveries in the field, made changes and corrections in the later editions of his book. A new stimulus to the study of this problem was given by the celebration in Sicily, in 1882, of the six hundredth anniversary of the Sicilian Vespers, when a great number of new publications appeared. An enormous mass of fresh and important documents has already been published, and more are still being published from the Angevin archive at Naples and the Vatican at Rome, as well as from the Spanish archives. The Sicilian Vespers, which at first sight seems to be an event of western European history, has its part also in the history of Byzantium.

Before Amari’s work came out, it was usually thought that the chief creator and leader of the Sicilian revolution of 1282 was a Sicilian exile, Giovanni Procida (Prochida, Prochyta) who, motivated by personal revenge, entered into negotiations with Peter of Aragon, the Byzantine Emperor, Michael VIII, the representatives of the Sicilian nobility, and others; that he won all of them over to his side and thus raised the revolt.

The great humanist of the fourteenth century, Petrarca, regarded Procida as the chief mover of the revolution.[58] But on investigation of the sources Amari showed that this account is a legendary development of historical fact, which, among the causes of the Sicilian revolution, has only secondary significance.[59]

The Sicilian people felt bitter anger against the severe French domination. The arrogant attitude of the French to the subject population and the terrible taxes which were levied, especially in connection with Charles’ expensive and difficult expedition against Byzantium, were the chief causes of the revolt of March 31. The two best politicians of that time, exclusive of Charles, Michael VIII and Peter of Aragon, skillfully used the discontent of the Sicilian population. Peter, related to the former king of Sicily, Manfred, the natural son of Frederick II Hohenstaufen, could not become reconciled to the excessive power of Charles, and felt he was within his rights in taking possession of Sicily. Michael VIII made use of Peter’s ambition, and promised him a subsidy if he opened hostilities against Charles. In Italy the imperial party, the Ghibellines, and a portion of the Sicilian nobility sided with Peter. Giovanni Procida was an intermediary in all these negotiations, but no more than that.

The revolt was crowned with success. Upon the invitation of the Sicilians, in August of the same year, Peter of Aragon landed on the island and was crowned with Manfred’s crown at Palermo. The attempts of Charles, who had returned from the East where hostilities against Byzantium were going on, to reconquer Sicily and to expel Peter of Aragon were unsuccessful. Charles was forced to give up his plans against the Empire of Michael VIII. Thereafter Charles was king only of southern Italy. The importance to Byzantium of the Sicilian Vespers, which deprived Charles of Sicily and saved the Eastern Empire from fatal danger, is obvious. In addition, the events connected with the revolution of 1282 laid the foundation for friendly relations between the Byzantine emperors and the kings of Aragon. Since Michael had supported Peter of Aragon with subsidies, he accordingly took part in the settlement of the Sicilian problem. In his autobiography Michael VIII, speaking of Charles’ expedition against his Empire, remarked, “The Sicilians disdaining the rest of Charles’ force as despicable, dared to raise arms and free themselves from slavery; therefore, if I said that God who granted freedom to them, granted it through us, I should tell the truth.”[60]

The Sicilian Vespers greatly affected the position of Pope Martin IV. It was not only an unheard-of innovation that, as the historian Ranke wrote, “the people, despite the commands of Rome, had dared to set a king over themselves,”[61] but the events of 1282 undermined the foundations of the Byzantine policy of this pope, who had broken with the Union of Lyons, sided wholly with the eastern plans of Charles of Anjou, and hoped for the Latin occupation of Constantinople. The Sicilian Vespers made that impossible, for it dismembered and weakened the south-Italian kingdom of Charles which hitherto had been the chief basis for the western aggressive policy against Byzantium.

The revolution of 1282 had a repercussion on the policy of Venice who, a year before, had bound herself by an alliance with Charles against Byzantium. Learning of the rising in Sicily and foreseeing the fall of Charles’ power and the defeat of his eastern plans, the Republic of St. Mark rapidly changed her policy; realizing that Charles could be of no more use to her, she broke with him, formed closer relations with Byzantium, and three years later concluded a treaty of friendship with Michael’s successor, Andronicus the Elder. Moreover, Venice also established relations with Peter of Aragon.

Thus the international relations of the times and the discontent of Sicily, of which Michael VIII took advantage, saved Byzantium from the fatal danger that menaced her from the powerful Charles of Anjou.

Eastern policy of Michael VIII. — The Emperors of Nicaea and, after the restoration of Constantinople, Michael VIII, turned their main forces to the West for the recovery of the Balkan peninsula, and to the exhausting struggle with Charles of Anjou, which practically decided the destiny of the restored Empire. The eastern border was somewhat neglected, and the Byzantine government seems sometimes to have forgotten the threatening danger there. A Byzantine historian of the fifteenth century, George Phrantzes, wrote: “Under Michael Palaeologus, because of the wars in Europe against the Italians, the Roman Empire has been exposed to dangers in Asia from the Turks.”[62] Of course, the Turkish danger to Byzantium had begun much earlier; but this observation of the historian well emphasizes a distinct feature of the eastern policy under Michael VIII. It was fortunate for the Empire that in the thirteenth century the Turks themselves were living through a troubled epoch owing to the military successes of the Mongols.

In the thirties and forties of the thirteenth century the threatening danger of the Mongol invasion appeared from the East. The Seljuq Sultanate of Rum or Iconium, bordering on the eastern part of the Empire of Nicaea, had been defeated by the Mongols. In the second half of the thirteenth century, at the time of Michael VIII, the last Seljucids were the mere deputies of the Mongols of Persia, whose dominions extended from India to the Mediterranean, and at whose head stood Hulagu, acknowledging the khan of the eastern Mongols as his overlord. In 1258 Hulagu took Bagdad, where the last Abbasid caliph suffered a violent death. After that he invaded and devastated Syria, Mesopotamia, and the surrounding lands, and meditated a march on Jerusalem and then probably a campaign against Egypt. But the news of the death of the Mongol Great Khan Mangu forced him to give up his aggressive plans in the south.

The Mongol dynasty established in Persia was, in the last decades of the thirteenth century, an ally of the Christians against the Muhammedans. As a recent historian said,

“Hulagu led the Nestorian [i.e., Christian] Turks of Central Asia on a real Yellow Crusade (Croisade Jaune) against Islam.” Finally, in 1260, the Mongol army was crushed by the Egyptian Mamluks, at Ain-Jalut. Another very powerful Mongol state was at that time established in the north, in Russia. This was the Golden or Kipchak Horde with its capital at Sarai, on the lower Volga. Realizing the great importance of this new Mongol factor in the international life of his epoch, Michael Palaeologus tried to make use of it several times in his external policy.[64]

In this connection it is important to remember that the Mamluk (Mameluke) dynasty established in Egypt in 1250 was united ethnographically with south Russia.

The word Mamluk means “owned,” “belonging to,” “slave,” and the Mamluks in Egypt were originally the bodyguard of Turkish slaves first formed there under the successors of Saladin; in 1260 these “slaves” seized the throne, and they reigned over Egypt from 1260 to 1517, when Egypt was conquered by the Ottoman Turks. From the third decade of the thirteenth century on, the chief contingent of the Mamluk bodyguard consisted of the Turkish tribe of Cumans (Polovtzi) from southern Russia, who had fled before the Mongol invasion or had been taken captives and sold into slavery.[65] A Byzantine historian says that the Mamluks were drawn from “the European Scythians dwelling near the Maeotis (the Sea of Azov) and the river of Tanais (Don).”[66]

Thus, owing to the Cuman origin of many Mamluks, they were interested in maintaining and developing relations with their compatriots of south Russia, where, even after the Mongol conquest, a considerable number of Cumans (Polovtzi) were left.

Besides, the khan of the Golden (Kipchak) Horde had embraced Islam, and the sultan of Egypt, Mameluk Beybars, was also a Muslim, while Hulagu was a Shamanist, i.e., a pagan,[67] and an enemy of Islam. Deadly rivalry, not only political but also religious, existed between Hulagu and Berke (Bereke), khan of the Golden Horde.

The land route between the Mamluks and Kipchaks was blocked by the dominions of Hulagu. Communication by sea between Egypt and south Russia was possible only through the Hellespont, Bosphorus, and Black Sea; but both straits were in the power of the Byzantine Emperor, so that the Mamluks needed special permission from Michael Palaeologus to use them.[68] Accordingly the sultan of Egypt, “willing to be a friend of the Romans and to have permission for the Egyptian merchants to sail through our straits [the Hellespont and Bosphorus] once a year,” sent his envoys to Michael Palaeologus.[69] The difficulty was that at that time Michael was on friendly terms with Hulagu, head of the Mongols in Persia; therefore the Egyptian ambassadors were from time to time retained at Constantinople. In 1265 the Kipchak Khan Berke declared war against Michael, and in this war the Bulgarian Tsar Constantine Tech (Tich) took part on the side of the Mongols, under Berke’s general Nogai. The Mongols (Tartars) and Bulgarians vanquished the Byzantine troops. After this defeat Michael was forced to abandon Hulagu and to join the Kipchak-Egyptian combination.[70] To win over the powerful Nogai Michael gave him his illegitimate daughter to wife, and in the following war with the Bulgarian king, Constantine Tech, Michael was so actively supported by his son-in-law that the Bulgarian king was forced to stop hostilities.[71] Diplomatic relations between the Golden Horde, Egypt, and Byzantium existed during Michael’s whole reign.[72] The friendly relations between Michael Palaeologus towards the end of his reign and the sultan of Egypt, Mamluk Qala’un (1279-90) are very interesting. A common danger urged both monarchs to come to an agreement, for the ambitious plans of Charles of Anjou menaced both empires. These relations were apparently to lead to the conclusion of a formal treaty of friendship and commerce, which according to the French scholar M. Canard was actually concluded in 1281 but according to the German scholar F. Dölger did not go beyond the stage of diplomatic negotiations. The fall of Charles of Anjou and the Sicilian Vespers entirely altered the situation both in the West and in the East.[73]

In Asia Minor Michael Palaeologus was not particularly menaced. Although he had broken with Hulagu, the Persian Mongols were too much preoccupied with their internal troubles to take any decisive steps against Byzantium. As for the sultanate of Rum, it was a mere dependency of the Mongol Empire. Still, separate Turkish bodies of troops, sometimes real predatory bands, regardless of any treaties formerly concluded between the emperors and sultans, ceaselessly invaded the Byzantine territory, and penetrated into the interior of the country, sacking cities, hamlets, and monasteries, and murdering and taking captive the people.

Beginning with the time of the Arabian power, Byzantium had established on the eastern border of Asia Minor a line of fortified places, especially in the mountain passes (clisurae), and, besides the regular troops, had organized a peculiar sort of defenders of the outermost borders of the Empire, called akritai. Gradually, along with the advance of the Turks toward the west, the border line with its defenders, akritai, was also being pushed back to the west, so that in the thirteenth century they were concentrated chiefly in the mountains of the Bithynian Olympus, that is to say, in the northwestern corner of Asia Minor. In the epoch of Nicaea these border settlers, provided with land, exempted from taxes and contributions, and enjoying great wealth, had had only to render military service and to defend the border from enemies, and, as far as one may judge from the sources, they had defended it courageously and energetically. But after the capital was transferred from Nicaea to Constantinople, the akritai ceased to receive the support formerly given by the government, which, in its new center, felt itself less dependent upon the eastern border. Moreover Michael Palaeologus, attempting financial reform, took an official census of the wealth of the akritai and confiscated to the treasury the greater part of their land, from which they drew their incomes. This measure undermined the economic prosperity of the Bithynian akritai, on which their military readiness depended, and who were “the nerves of war,”[74] and left the eastern border of the Empire almost defenseless. The government quelled the revolt raised by the akritai and refrained from exterminating them completely only from fear of opening the way to the Turks. Influenced by the Russian scholar, V. I. Lamansky, several other scholars have considered the Bithynian akritai Slavs.”[75] But more probably they were representatives of various peoples among whom may have been the descendants of the Slavs who had long ago settled in Bithynia. The external policy of Michael VIII, so strongly influenced by the imperialistic policy of Charles of Anjou, had a bad effect upon the eastern border.

The results of Michael’s enforced eastern policy were felt when the Turks, after a period of troubles and disintegration, were unified and strengthened by the Ottoman Turks; they were to deal the final blow to Byzantium and destroy the eastern Christian Empire.

The external policy of Byzantium during the reigns of the Andronicoi.

The external policy of Andronicus II and Andronicus III, grandfather and grandson, differed from that of their predecessor, Michael VIII. A great danger had menaced Michael from the West, from Charles to Anjou; but the Sicilian Vespers had removed that danger forever in the year of Michael’s death. The Turks had been prevented by their own troubles from making adequate use of their advantageous position on the eastern border of the Empire.

Andronicus II and Andronicus III had to face two new and strong foes: Serbia in the Balkan peninsula and the Ottoman Turks in Asia Minor. Like Charles of Anjou, the rulers of these two peoples had set as their definite goal in the struggle with Byzantium, the complete destruction of the Empire and the formation on its site of either a Greco-Slavonic or a Greco-Turkish Empire. Charles’ plan to establish the Greco-Latin Empire had failed. In the fourteenth century the great king of Serbia, Stephen Dushan (Dušan), seemed to be on the point of establishing a great Slavonic empire. But for many reasons only the Ottoman Turks were to succeed in carrying out this plan: in the middle of the fifteenth century they were to establish an enormous empire, not only Greco-Turkish, but Greco-Slavo-Turkish, controlling both the Serbs and the Bulgars.

The Ottoman Turks. — The rise of the Ottoman Turks was the chief phenomenon in the East in the epoch of the two Andronicoi. Advancing toward Asia Minor, the Mongols had pushed back to the West, from the Persian province of Khorasan (Khurasan), a Turkish horde of the tribe of Ghuzz, who had come into the territory of the sultanate of Iconium, and been allowed by the sultan to stay and pasture their herds. After the defeat inflicted by the Mongols the Kingdom of the Seljuqs divided into several independent possessions (emirates) with separate dynasties, which harassed the Empire severely. Along with this disintegration of the Empire of the Seljuqs, the Turkish horde of Ghuzz also became independent. At the very end of the thirteenth century their leader was Osman (Othman), who began the dynasty of the Ottomans and gave his name to the Turks who were under his control; from that time on they were called the Ottoman Turks. The dynasty founded by Osman ruled in Turkey until 1923.[76]

From the end of the thirteenth century on, the Ottoman Turks began to harass seriously the small possessions in Asia Minor which still remained in the power of Byzantium. The imperial troops held with difficulty the three most important points in Asia Minor; Brusa, Nicaea, and Nicomedia. The coemperor Michael IX was sent against the Turks and defeated. Constantinople itself seemed in danger, and the Emperor

“seemed to sleep or be dead.”[77]

The Spanish (Catalan) companies in the East. — Andronicus could not master the situation without foreign aid, and he got such aid from the Spanish mercenary bands, the so-called “Catalan companies,” or “almughavars.”[78] Mercenary bands of various nationalities, under the name of “companies,” which lived only for war and would fight for pay for anyone against anyone, were very well known in the latter half of the Middle Ages. “The Catalan companies,” which consisted not only of Catalans, but also of the inhabitants of Aragon, Navarre, the island of Majorca, and other places, fought as mercenaries on the side of Peter of Aragon during the war which burst out after the Sicilian Vespers. When at the very beginning of the fourteenth century a peace was concluded between Sicily and Naples, the Catalans were out of work. Such allies, accustomed to war, pillage, and violence, became in time of peace dangerous to those who had invited them, and who now tried to get rid of them. Moreover, the companies themselves, finding no satisfaction in peaceful living conditions, sought new opportunities for activity. The Catalans chose for leader Roger de Flor, a German by origin, whose father’s surname, Blum (i.e. a flower), was translated into Spanish as

“Flor.”

With the consent of his companions Roger, who spoke Greek fluently, offered his services to Andronicus II for his struggle with the Seljuq and Ottoman Turks and extorted from the hard pressed Emperor unheard-of conditions: the insolent adventurer demanded the consent of Andronicus to his marriage with the Emperor’s niece, the granting of the title of megadukas (admiral), and a large sum of money for his company. Andronicus was compelled to yield, and the Spanish companies took ship and sailed for Constantinople.

The participation of the Spaniards in the destinies of Byzantium is narrated in detail both in the Spanish (Catalan) sources and in the Greek. But while a participant of the expedition, the Catalan chronicler Muntaner[79] described Roger and his companions as courageous and noble fighters for a right cause, a credit to their country, Greek historians consider the Catalans pillagers and insolent ruffians, and one of them exclaimed: “Would that Constantinople had never seen the Latin Roger!”[80]

Historians of the nineteenth century devoted much attention to the Catalan expedition.

A Spanish investigator of the problem compared their deeds with those of the famous Spanish conquerors of Mexico and Peru in the sixteenth century, Cortez and Pizarro; he does not know “what other people may plume themselves on such a historical event as our glorious expedition to the East,” and he considered the expedition an eternal testimony to the glory of the Spanish race.[81] The German historian Hopf declared that “the Catalan expedition is the most attractive episode in the history of the Empire of the Palaeologi,” especially on account of its dramatic interest.[82] Finlay wrote that the Catalans “guided by a sovereign like Leo III or like Basil II, might have conquered the Seljuq Turks, strangled the Ottoman power in its cradle, and carried the double-headed eagle of Byzantium victorious to the foot of Mount Taurus and to the banks of the Danube.”[83] Elsewhere the same historian remarked: “The expedition of the Catalans in the East is a wonderful instance of the success which sometimes attends a career of rapacity and crime, in opposition to all the ordinary maxims of human prudence.”[84] The Spanish archives still afford much new information on this expedition.

At the very beginning of the fourteenth century Roger de Flor with his company arrived in Constantinople.[85] There were almost ten thousand members of the expedition; but this number included wives, mistresses, and children. The marriage of Roger to the Emperor’s niece was celebrated at Constantinople with great pomp. After some serious conflicts in the capital between the Catalans and Genoese, who, jealous for their exceptional privileges in the Empire, felt the newcomers their rivals, the company was finally transported into Asia Minor, where the Turks were besieging the large city of Philadelphia, east of Smyrna. Supported by a band of imperial troops the small Hispano-Byzantine army, under Roger de Flor, freed Philadelphia from the Turkish siege. The victory of the western mercenaries was enthusiastically received in the capital; some men thought that the Turkish danger to the Empire was over forever. The first success was followed by others against the Turks in Asia Minor. But the unbearable extortions and arbitrary cruelties of the Catalans towards the local population, on one hand, and the clearly expressed intention of Roger to establish in Asia Minor a principality of his own, though under the Emperor’s suzerainty, on the other, strained the relations between the mercenaries, the people of Asia Minor, and the government of Constantinople. The Emperor recalled Roger to Europe, and the latter with his company crossed the Hellespont and occupied first an important fortress on the straits of Gallipoli, and then the whole peninsula of Gallipoli. The new negotiations between Roger and the Emperor ended in Roger’s obtaining the title next to the Emperor’s, that of Caesar, never till then borne by a foreigner. Before marching again to Asia Minor the new Caesar went with a small band to Hadrianople, where the eldest son of Andronicus, the coemperor Michael IX, resided. On Michael’s instigation, Roger and his companions were slain during a festival. When these tidings spread among the population of the Empire, the Spaniards in the capital and other cities were also murdered.

The Catalans, who were concentrated at Gallipoli, inflamed and thirsty for revenge, broke their obligations as allies of the Empire and set out to the West, ravaging with fire and sword the regions through which they passed. Thrace and Macedonia were terribly devastated. Not even monasteries on Mount Athos were spared. An eyewitness, a pupil of Daniel, igumen (abbot) of the Serbian monastery of Chilandarion, on Mount Athos, wrote: “It was horror to see then the desolation of the Holy Mountain by the hands of enemies.”[86] The Catalans also burned the Russian monastery of St.

Panteleemon, on Mount Athos, but their assault on Thessalonica failed. In retaliation for the Catalan devastations Andronicus commanded the merchandise of some Catalan vessels in the Byzantine waters seized and the merchants themselves arrested.[87]

After having stayed some time in Thessaly, the Catalans marched to the south, through the famous pass of Thermopylae, into middle Greece to the territory of the Duchy of Athens and Thebes, which had been founded after the Fourth Crusade and was under French control. In the spring of 1311 there took place a battle in Boeotia, at the river of the Cephisus, near the Lake of Copais (near the modern village of Skripù).

The Catalans won a decisive victory over the French troops. Putting an end to the flourishing French duchy of Athens and Thebes, they established there Spanish control which lasted for eighty years. The church of the Holy Virgin, the ancient Parthenon on the Acropolis, passed into the hands of the Catalan clergy, who were impressed by its sublimity and riches. In the second half of the fourteenth century a Spanish duke of Athens called the Acropolis “the most precious jewel that exists in the world, and such as all the kings of Christendom together would imitate in vain.”[88]

The Athenian Duchy of the Catalans established by mere accident in the fourteenth century and organized upon Spanish or Sicilian models, has generally been considered a harsh, oppressive, and destructive government, which at Athens and in Greece in general has left very few material traces of its domination. On the Acropolis, for instance, the Catalans carried out some changes, especially in the disposition of the fortifications, but no traces of them remain. But in Greek popular tradition and in the Greek tongue there still linger reminiscences of the cruelty and injustice of the Spanish invaders. Even today, in some regions of Greece, for example, in the island of Euboea, a man in condemnation of illegal or unjust action may say: “Not even the Catalans would have done that.” In Acarnania to the present day the word “Catalan” is the synonym for

“savage, robber, criminal.” At Athens the word “Catalan” is considered an insult. In some cities of the Peloponnesus, when one wishes to say that a woman possesses a bad character, one says, “She must be a Catalan woman.”[89]

But recently much new material, especially in the Archives of Barcelona (the archives de la Corona d’Aragó), has come to light which shows that the conception of former historians on this subject was biased. The years of the Catalan domination in middle Greece in the fourteenth century were not only troubled and destructive; they were productive. The Acropolis, which was called in Catalan Castell de Cetines, was fortified; for the first time since the closing of the Athenian school by Justinian the Great, a university was established at Athens.[90] Catalan fortifications were also erected in middle and northern Greece.[91] A modern Catalan historian, the best recent authority on the Catalan problem in Middle Greece, A. Rubió y Lluch, declared, “The discovery of a Catalan Greece is, in our opinion, one of the most unexpected surprises the modern investigators have had in the history of medieval political life.”[92] Of course, the full story of the Catalan dominion in Greece remains to be learned; but we must realize that the older works and former opinions on this problem of many very eminent scholars must be rectified, and that a new history of the Catalan dominion in Greece must be told on the basis of new material.[93] The Navarrese invasion in 1379

dealt a death blow to the Catalan dominion in Greece.

Successes of the Turks in Asia Minor. — At the very beginning of the fourteenth century the Catalan company fought successfully against the Ottoman Turks. But these military successes did not last long. The bloody advance of the Catalan companies through the Balkan peninsula, after Roger de Flor’s murder, and the internal strife between the two Andronicoi, grandfather and grandson diverted the forces and attention of the Empire from the eastern border. The Ottomans seized their advantage, and in the last years of Andronicus the Elder and in the reign of Andronicus the Younger won some important successes in Asia Minor. The sultan Othman (Osman) and after him his son Orkhan conquered there the chief Byzantine cities, Brusa, Nicaea, and Nicomedia, and then reached the coast of the Sea of Marmora. Several cities of the western coast of Asia Minor began to pay tribute to the Turks. In 1341, when Andronicus III died, the Ottoman Turks had already become the real masters of Asia Minor, with the obvious intention of transferring hostilities into the European territory of the Empire and even threatening Constantinople itself; Thrace was exposed to continuous incursions from them. Meanwhile, the Seljuq emirates, fearing danger from the Ottomans, entered into friendly relations with the Empire in order to struggle against both the Latins and the Ottomans.

Byzantium and the rise of Serbia; Stephen Dushan (Dušan). — The possessions of Byzantium in the Balkan peninsula, at the end of the thirteenth century, embraced the whole of Thrace and southern Macedonia with Thessalonica; but the lands lying farther to the west and south — Thessaly, Epirus, and Albania — only partially recognized the power of the Empire, and not in equal degree. In the Peloponnesus the Empire under Michael Palaeologus had reconquered from the Franks Laconia in the southeast of the peninsula, and then the central province, Arcadia. In the rest of the Peloponnesus and middle Greece the Latins continued to rule. As to the Archipelago, Byzantium possessed only a few islands in the northern and northeastern portion of the sea.

Parallel with the Ottoman danger in the East, another threatening danger to Byzantium was growing up in the Balkan peninsula, in the first half of the fourteenth century, from Serbia.

The Serbs and the closely related, perhaps even identical, Croats made their appearance in the Balkan peninsula in the seventh century at the time of Emperor Heraclius and occupied the western part of the peninsula. While the Croats dwelling in Dalmatia and in the region between the rivers Sava and Drava began to enter into closer relations with the West, adopted Catholicism, and in the eleventh century lost their independence and came under the power of the Hungarian (Magyar) Kingdom, the Serbs remained faithful to Byzantium and the eastern church. For a long time, that is, up to the second half of the twelfth century, in contrast to the Bulgars the Serbs failed to form one unified state. They lived in independent districts or župy, at the head of which were župans. A tendency towards unification did not appear among the Serbs until the twelfth century, and coincided chronologically with the Bulgarian movement towards the foundation of the second Bulgarian Kingdom. Just as the Asen family led the movement in Bulgaria, so the family of the Nemanjas played a similar role in Serbia.

The founder of the Serbian monarchy in the second half of the twelfth century was Stephen Nemanja, proclaimed “Great Župan,” the first to unify the Serbians by the power of his family. Thanks to successful wars with Byzantium and the Bulgars, he considerably increased the Serbian territory; then, having carried out his political task, he abdicated and ended his days as a monk in a monastery on Mount Athos. During the Third Crusade Stephen Nemanja entered into negotiations with the German king, Frederick Barbarossa, who at that time was on his way across the Balkan peninsuia, and offered him an alliance against the Byzantine emperor, if Frederick would allow Serbia to annex Dalmatia and keep the regions taken from Byzantium. These negotiations came to nothing.

After a civil war between the sons of Stephen Nemanja, his son Stephen became ruler of the state and was crowned in 1217 by a papal legate. After the coronation he became King of Serbia and is known as the “first-crowned” King (Kral), “of all Serbia.”

During his reign, the Serbian church received from the hands of the papal representative an independent head in the person of a Serbian archbishop. But the dependence of Serbia on the Roman church was short, and the new Kingdom remained faithful to the Eastern Orthodox church.

The Latin Empire, in endeavoring to increase its influence in the Balkan peninsula, met with a great obstacle in the two Slavonic states, Bulgaria and Serbia. But after the fall of the Latin Empire in 1261 circumstances changed; the Latin Empire was replaced by the weak restored Byzantine Empire, and at about the same time Bulgaria, also weakened by internal troubles and reduced in territory, had little of its former strength. After 1261 Serbia became the most important state in the Balkan peninsula.

But the Serbian kings committed a strategic error in failing to annex the western Serbian (Croatian) land; without having achieved national unification, they turned their attention to Constantinople.

During the civil war between the two Andronicoi, the Serbian “Kral” (King) supported the grandfather. The victory of the Serbs in 1330 over the Bulgars, who were allies of Andronicus III, near Velbužd (now Köstendil), in Upper Macedonia, had great significance for the future of Serbia. The young prince, Stephen Dushan (Dušan), destined to be the famous king of Serbia, is believed, despite some discrepancy of sources,[94] to have had a decisive share in the victory. In his flight the Bulgarian king was unhorsed and slain. The results of the battle at Velbužd were of great importance to the young Serbian Kingdom. The Greco-Bulgarian alliance was dissolved, and, any possibility that Bulgaria might restrain the further rise of Serbia was destroyed forever.

Thereafter the Kingdom of Serbia played the leading role in the Balkan peninsula.

But Serbia reached the climax of her power under Stephen Dushan, 1331-55. Ten years before he mounted the throne, Stephen and his father had been crowned together with the benediction of the archbishop. Sources call him, therefore, “Stephen, the young Kral (King),” “rex juvenis,” in opposition to “the old Kral,” “rex veteranus.”

T. Florinsky commented, “this simultaneous coronation of father and son was a new and remarkable phenomenon in the history of Serbia. It showed clearly the influence of Byzantium, where it was an old custom of the emperors to appoint their co-rulers and have them crowned with the imperial title.”[95]

During the first ten years of his rule, while Andronicus III reigned in Byzantium, Stephen Dushan took advantage of the fact that the Emperor and John |Cantacuzene were occupied in the east by the Ottoman danger, to open his aggressive policy, on one hand, by the annexation of northern Macedonia, and on the other, by the occupation of the major part of Albania, where Andronicus’ troops had recently fought with success.

Before the death of the Emperor in 1341, Stephen Dushan, though he had not fully developed his plans against Byzantium, nevertheless had already shown how strong an enemy he was to prove to the Empire.

Advance of the Albanians to the south. — In the first half of the fourteenth century, the Albanians for the first time began to play a considerable part in the history of the Balkan peninsula. Both Andronicus III and Stephen Dushan fought with them.

Albania had never, from the time of classical antiquity, been able to form a single unified nation, and the history of the Albanians had always been a part of the history of some foreign people. Internally they were divided into small principalities and autonomous mountain tribes, and their interests were exclusively local. “Albania abounds in ancient remains which as yet have been unexplored. The history of Albania cannot, therefore, be written in its proper and final form without reference to the precious relics the Albanian soil has jealously guarded for centuries. It is only when these archeological treasures come to light that a really scientific history of Albania can be written.”[96]

The ancestors of the Albanians were the ancient Illyrians, who dwelled along the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea, from Epirus as far north as Pannonia. The Greek geographer of the second century A.D., Ptolemy, mentioned an Albanian tribe with a city of Albanopolis. The name of these Albanians was in the eleventh century extended to the rest of the ancient Illyrians. This people was called in Greek, Albanoi, Arbanoi, or Albanitai, Arbanitai; in Latin, Arbanenses or Albanenses; from the Latin or Roman form comes the Slavonic Arbanasi, in modern Greek Arvanitis, in Turkish Arnaut. The Albanians also call themselves Arber or Arben. Later on there appeared a new name for the Albanians, Shkipetars, the etymological origin of which has not been definitely fixed.[97] The Albanian language is now full of Roman elements, beginning with the ancient Latin language and ending with the Venetian dialect, so that some specialists call the Albanian tongue “a half-Romance mixed-language” (halbromanishe

Mischsprache).[98] Of old the Albanians were a Christian people. In the earlier Byzantine time, Emperor Anastasius I, who came from the chief IIlyrian coast city of Dyrrachium (Durazzo), may have been Albanian. An Albanian origin for the family of Justinian the Great is also possible.

Great ethnographic changes occurred in the Albanian population in the epoch of the so-called barbarian invasions of the fourth and fifth centuries, and of the gradual occupation of the peninsula by the Slavs. Later, the Albanians (not yet called in the sources by this name) were subject first to Byzantium, then to the Great Bulgaria of Simeon. For the first time, Albanian, as a general name for the whole people, appeared in the Byzantine sources of the eleventh century, after the Normano-Byzantine conflicts in the Balkan peninsula.[99] In the epoch of the Latin Empire and of the first Palaeologi the Albanians were successively controlled by the Despotat of Epirus, the second Bulgarian Empire, the Emperor of Nicaea John Ducas Vatatzes, and finally, by Charles of Anjou, who styled himself “by the grace of God the King of Sicily and Albania.” In the fourth decade of the fourteenth century, not long before Andronicus’

death, the Serbian king Stephen Dushan conquered the major part of Albania.

At this time a strong movement of the Albanians towards the south began, at first into Thessaly, but extending later, in the second half of the fourteenth and in the fifteenth century, all over middle Greece, the Peloponnesus, and many islands of the Aegean Sea. This powerful stream of Albanian colonization is felt even today. A German scholar of the first half of the nineteenth century, Fallmerayer, came out with the astounding theory that the Greeks had been completely exterminated by the Slavs and Albanians; “not a single drop of pure Hellenic blood flows in the veins of the Christian population of modern Greece.” He wrote in the second volume of his History of the Peninsula of Morea in the Middle Ages, that, beginning with the second quarter of the fourteenth century, the Greek-Slavs who inhabited Greece were displaced and crushed by Albanian settlers, so that, in his opinion, the Greek revolution of the nineteenth century which freed Greece from the Turkish yoke, was in reality the work of Albanian hands. Fallmerayer journeyed through Greece and found in Attica, Boeotia, and the major part of the Peloponnesus a very great number of Albanian settlers, who sometimes did not even understand Greek. If one calls this country a new Albania, wrote the same author, one gives it its real name. Those provinces of the Greek Kingdom are no more closely related to Hellenism than the Scottish Highlands are to the Afghan regions of Kandahar and Kabul.[100]

Although Fallmerayer’s theory as a whole is rejected, it is true that even today many islands of the Archipelago and almost all Attica as far as Athens are Albanian.

According to the approximate statistics made by scholars, the Albanians in the Peloponnesus number now more than twelve per cent of the whole population (about 92,500 souls).[101] In 1854 J. G. Hahn, the author of a German work Albanian Studies, estimated that “of a total of one million inhabitants of Greece, about 173,000 were Albanians,” and a modern writer remarked: “No changes have occurred in the meantime to alter their position.”[102]

Thus, the time of Andronicus III was marked by the beginning of Albanian colonization to the south in Greece as far as the Peloponnesus, and of an important ethnographical alteration among the population of the Greek peninsula.

Venice and Genoa. — Michael VIII’s government gave undoubted preference to Genoa in the rivalry between the two western commercial republics, Venice and Genoa. In connection with political conditions, he then restored friendly relations with Venice, making skillful use of the antagonism between the two republics. Andronicus II continued his father’s policy of privileges for Genoa, so that causes for conflict between Genoa and Venice continued to exist.

Towards the end of the thirteenth century all Christian possessions in Syria were lost. In 1291 the Muhammedans took away from the Christians their last important coast city, Acre (Acca, ancient Ptolemaïs); all the rest of the coast cities surrendered to the Muhammedans almost without struggle. All Syria and Palestine passed into the possession of the Muhammedans.

This event was a terrible blow to Venice, for by it she lost the whole southeast Mediterranean, where her trade for a long time had been predominant. On the other hand, the Genoese, with a solid footing on the Bosphorus, extended their influence in the Black Sea, where apparently they hoped for a trade monopoly. This was of particular importance in the Crimea, where both Venetians and Genoese colonies had already been established. Realizing the threatening danger to her commercial power Venice declared war on Genoa. Many of the hostilities took place on the territory or in the waters of the Byzantine Empire. The Venetian fleet breaking through the Hellespont and the Marmora sea pillaged and burnt the shores of the Bosphorus and the suburb of Galata, where the Genoese dwelt. The Genoese colony found safety behind the walls of Constantinople, whose Emperor actively supported the Genoese.

The Venetians who lived in the capital were murdered. The Genoese obtained from Andronicus II an authorization to surround Galata with a wall and moat. Soon after, their quarters were embellished with many public and private buildings. At the head of the colony stood a podestá appointed from Genoa, who governed on the basis of certain regulations and had charge of the interests of all the Genoese who lived on the territory of the Empire. Thus, said T. Florinsky, “along with the orthodox Tsargrad there arose a small, but well fortified, Latin city with a Genoese podestá, republican organization, and Latin churches and monasteries. Genoa, besides its commercial significance, acquired great political importance in the Empire.”[103] Towards the time of the ascension of Andronicus III Galata became a sort of state within the state, and by the end of his reign this situation was very strongly felt. No real peace between Genoa and Venice was possible.

Besides these two most powerful commercial republics there was considerable trade activity at Constantinople, at the end of the thirteenth and in the fourteenth century on the part of some other western cities which had their colonies there — for example, of Italy, Pisa, Florence, and Ancona — of the Adriatic Sea the Slavonic Ragusa (Dubrovnik),[104] and several south-French cities, like Marseilles.

The reigns of the two Andronicoi, grandfather and grandson, came to sad

conclusions. In the east the Ottoman Turks had become the masters of the situation in Asia Minor; in the Balkan peninsula Stephen Dushan had already obtained some real successes, which indicated his still broader plans for the future. The Catalan companies had terribly devastated many regions of the Empire in their march to the west. Finally, Genoese Galata, economically strong and politically almost independent, had established and fortified itself side by side with Constantinople.

John V, John VI Cantacuzene and the apogee of Serbian power.

Under Andronicus III, John V’s predecessor, Stephen Dushan had already taken possession of northern Macedonia and the major part of Albania. With the ascension to the throne of the boy John V, when a devastating civil war began to tear the Empire, Dushan’s aggressive plans widened and took definite form against Constantinople itself.

A Byzantine historian of the fourteenth century, Nicephorus Gregoras, put into the mouth of John Cantacuzene these words: “The great Serb (Stephen Dushan)[105] like an overflowing river which has passed far beyond its banks, has already submerged one part of the Empire of Romania with its waves, and is threatening to submerge another.”[106] Stephen Dushan came to an agreement, now with Cantacuzene, now with John V, as it seemed advantageous to him. Taking advantage of the desperate situation of the Empire, whose forces were occupied by internal troubles, Stephen conquered all of Macedonia except Thessalonica without difficulty and after a siege took Seres, an important fortified place in eastern Macedonia, lying on the way from Thessalonica to Constantinople. The surrender of Seres was of great importance; Dushan gained a fortified and purely Greek city, only slightly inferior to Thessalonica, which might serve as a key to Constantinople. From this time on, broader plans against the Empire developed in the mind of the Serbian leader.

Contemporary Byzantine sources connect with the capture of Seres Dushan’s assumption of the title of tsar and the open display of his claims to the Eastern Empire.

John Cantacuzene, for example, wrote, “The Kral [King] approached Seres and took possession of it. … After that, becoming excessively conceited and seeing himself master of the major part of the Empire, he proclaimed himself Tsar of the Romans and Serbs,[107] and upon his son he conferred the title of Kral.”[108] In his letter to the Doge of Venice from Seres, Dushan, among other titles, glorifies himself as “the master of almost all the Empire of Romania” [et fere totius impeni Romaniae dominus].[109]

His Greek decrees Dushan signed in red ink “Stephen in Christ God the faithful Kral and autocrat of Serbia and Romania.”[110]

Dushan’s broad plans concerning Constantinople differed from the plans of the Bulgarian kings of the ninth and thirteenth centuries, Simeon and the Asens. The chief aim of Simeon had been the liberation of the Slavonic lands from the power of Byzantium and the formation of one great Slavonic Empire; “his very attempt,” wrote T. Florinsky, “to take possession of Constantinople was due to the same tendency to destroy the power of the Greeks and replace it by that of the Slavs…”[111] “He wished to possess Tsargrad and to exert power over the Greeks, not as emperor of the Romans, but as tsar of Bulgaria.”[112] Similar aims were pursued by the Asens, who aspired to the liberation and complete independence of the Bulgarian people and wished to found a Bulgarian Empire which should include Constantinople.

In assuming the title of emperor (basileus) and autocrat Stephen Dushan was guided by different aims. The question was not only the liberation of the Serbian people from the influence of the eastern emperor. There is no doubt that Dushan set himself the goal ot creating a new empire instead of Byzantium, not Serbian, but Serbian-Greek, and that “the Serbian people, the Serbian kingdom, and all the Slavonic lands annexed to it were to become only a part of the Empire of the Romans, whose head he proclaimed himself.”[113] Proposing himself as an aspirant to the throne of Constantine the Great, Justinian, and other Byzantine emperors, Dushan wished, first of all, to become emperor of the Romans, and then of the Serbs, that is, to establish in his person a Serbian dynasty on the Byzantine throne.

It was important for Dushan to draw to his side the Greek clergy of the conquered regions; he realized that, in the eyes of the people, his proclamation as tsar of the Serbs and Greeks would be legal only if sanctioned by the higher authority of the Church. The archbishop of Serbia, dependent upon the patriarch of Constantinople, was not sufficient; even though the complete independence of the Serbian church had been proclaimed, the archbishop or patriarch of Serbia could crown the kral (king) only as tsar of Serbia. In order to sanctify the title of the “Tsar of the Serbs and Romans,” which might help him to the Byzantine throne, something more was needed. The patriarch of Constantinople, naturally, would not consent to such a coronation. Dushan began to plan to sanctify his new title by the approbation of the highest Greek clergy of the conquered regions as well as by the monks of the Greek monasteries of the famous Mount Athos.

For this purpose he confirmed and widened the privileges and increased the endowments of the Greek monasteries in conquered Macedonia, where many estates (μετοχια) which belonged to Athos also came under his power. The peninsula of Chalcldice itself with the Athenian monasteries came into Dushan’s hands, and the monks could not fail to understand that the protection of the monasteries had passed from the Byzantine emperor to a new master, upon whom their further welfare would depend. The charters (chrysobulls) written in Greek granted by Dushan to the Greek monasteries of Athos testify not only to his confirmation of their former privileges, exemptions, and possessions, but to the granting of new ones. Besides the charters given to separate monasteries there is a general charter granted to all the Athenian monasteries; in this charter he said: “Our Majesty, having received (into our power) all the monasteries situated on the Holy Mountain of Athos, which from all their hearts have had recourse to us and have become subject [to us, has granted and accorded to them by this general edict (chrysobull) a great benefaction in order that the monks dwelling therein may fulfil peacefully and without disturbance their pious work.”[114]

Easter 1346 brought a momentous day in the history of Serbia. At Scopia (Skoplje, Uskub, in northern Macedonia), Dushan’s capital, there assembled the noble princes of the whole kingdom of Serbia, all the higher Serbian clergy with the archbishop of Serbia at their head, the Bulgarian and Greek clergy of the conquered regions, and, finally, the protos, the head of the council of igumens (abbots), which administered Athos, and the igumens and hermits of the Holy Mountain of Athos. This large and solemn council was “to ratify and sanctify the political revolution achieved by Dushan: the foundation of a new Empire.”[115]

First of all, the Council established a Serbian patriarchate entirely independent from the Constantinopolitan patriarchate. Dushan needed an independent Serbian patriarch for his coronation as emperor. As the choice of that patriarch took place without the participation of the ecumenical patriarchs of the East, the Greek bishops and the hermits of Mount Athos had to substitute for the patriarch of Constantinople.

The Serbian patriarch was elected, and the patriarch of Constantinople, who refused to recognize the acts of this council as regular, excommunicated the Church of Serbia.

After the election of the patriarch the solemn coronation of Dushan with the imperial crown was performed. This event had probably been preceded by the ceremony of the proclamation of Dushan as tsar at Seres, soon after this city was taken.

In connection with those events Dushan introduced at his court pompous court dignities and adopted Byzantine customs and manners. The new baslleus turned to the representatives of the Greek nobility; the Greek language seems to have become officially equal to the Serbian tongue, for many of Dushan’s charters were written in Greek. “The privileged classes in Serbia, large landowners and clergy, who had exerted enormous influence and power and limited the freedom of action of the Serbian kings, were now forced to yield to the higher authority of the Tsar, as an absolute monarch.”[116] In accordance with Byzantine custom, Dushan’s wife was also crowned, and their ten year old son was proclaimed “Kral of all Serbian lands.” After the coronation, by means of many charters (chrysobulls) Dushan expressed his gratitude and favor to the Greek monasteries and churches, and with his wife visited Athos, where he stayed about four months, praying in all the monasteries, generously endowing them, and receiving everywhere “the benediction of the saintly and holy fathers, who led angelic lives.”[117]

After the coronation Stephen’s sole dream was to reach Constantinople; after his victories and coronation he could see no impediment to the attainment of this goal.

Although in the last period of his reign his campaigns against Byzantium were not so frequent as before, and his attention was distracted now by hostilities in the west and north, now by internal affairs, nevertheless, as Florinsky said, “to all this Dushan’s attention only turns aside, no more: his eyes and thoughts are as before concentrated upon the same alluring extreme southeast corner of the peninsula. The desire of taking possession of this southeast corner, or, properly speaking, of the world city situated there, now holds still more firmly all the Tsar’s thoughts, becomes the leading motive of his activity, and characterizes the whole time of his reign.”[118]

Powerfully affected as he was by the dream of an easy conquest of Constantinople, Dushan did not immediately grasp the fact that some serious obstacles to the realization of his plan already existed. First, there was the growing power of the Turks, who were also aiming at the Byzantine capital and whom the badly organized Serbian troops could not overcome; besides, in order to take Constantinople it was necessary to have a fleet, which Dushan had not. To increase his maritime force he planned to enter into alliance with Venice, but this step was from the beginning doomed to failure. The Republic of St. Mark, unreconciled to the return of Constantinople to the Palaeologi, would never have consented to support Dushan in his conquest of the city for himself; if Venice conquered Constantinople, it would be for her own sake. The attempt of Dushan to form an alliance with the Turks also miscarried, due to the policy of John Cantacuzene; in any event the interests of Dushan and the Turks must undoubtedly have collided. Nor could interference in the internal strife of the Empire materially help Dushan’s plans. In the last years of his reign a body of Serbian troops fighting on the side of John V Palaeologus was slain by the Turks. Dushan was doomed to disappointment; it became obvious that the way to Constantinople was closed to him.

The statement in the later chronicles of Ragusa (Dubrovnik) that Dushan

undertook a vast expedition against Constantinople in the very year of his death, which alone prevented its being carried into effect, is not confirmed by any contemporary information, and the best scholars do not consider it true.[119] In 1355 the Great Master of Serbia died without realizing his ambition. Thus, Dushan failed to create a Greco-Serbian Empire to replace the Byzantine Empire; he managed to form only the Empire of Serbia, which included many Greek lands,[120] but which after his death fell, as John Cantacuzene said, “into a thousand pieces.”[121]

The existence of Dushan’s monarchy was of such short duration, that, as Florinsky says, “in it, properly speaking, only two moments may be observed: the moment of formation during the whole time of Dushan’s reign, and that of disintegration, starting immediately after the death of its founder.”[122] “Ten years after,” another Russian scholar wrote, “the grandeur of the Serbian Empire seemed to belong to a remote past.”[123] Thus, the most grandiose attempt of the Slavs, their third and last, to create in the Balkan peninsula a great Empire, with Constantinople at its head, ended in failure. The Balkan peninsula was open and almost defenseless to the aggressive plans of the warlike Ottoman Turks.

The policies of Byzantium in the fourteenth century.

The Turks. — Toward the end of the reign of Andronicus the Younger the Turks were almost in complete control of Asia Minor. The eastern portion, of the Mediterranean and the Archipelago were continuously threatened by the vessels of Turkish pirates, both Ottomans and Seljuqs. The situation of the Christian population of the peninsula, coastlands, and islands became unbearable; trade died away. Turkish attacks on the Athonian monasteries forced one of the monks, Athanasius, to leave Athos and emigrate to Greece, to Thessaly, where he founded the famous monasteries “in air,”

“the weirdly fantastic Metéora, which crown the needle-like crags of the grim valley of Kalabaka.”[124] The king of Cyprus and the Master of the military order of the Hospitalers, or of St. John, who had held Rhodes since the beginning of the fourteenth century, besought the pope to rouse the western European states to take arms against the Turks. But the small relief expeditions which answered the papal appeals, though not altogether unsuccessful, could not accomplish much. The Turks were resolved to establish themselves firmly on the European coast; and this was facilitated by the civil war in the Empire, in which John Cantacuzene involved the Turks.

The first establishment of the Ottoman Turks in Europe is usually connected with the name of John Cantacuzene, who often called upon their support in his struggle with John Palaeologus. Cantacuzene even married his daughter to Sultan Orkhan. On the invitation of Cantacuzene the Turks as his allies devastated Thrace several times.

Nicephorus Gregoras remarked that Cantacuzene hated the Romans as he loved the barbarians.[125] It is quite possible that the first settlements of the Turks in the peninsula of Gallipoli took place with the knowledge and consent of Cantacuzene. The same Byzantine historian wrote that while a Christian service was being celebrated in the imperial church, the Ottomans who had been admitted into the capital were dancing and singing near the palace, “crying out in incomprehensible sounds the songs and hymns of Muhammed, and thereby attracting the crowd to listen to them rather than to the divine Gospels.”[126] To satisfy the financial claims of the Turks Cantacuzene even handed over to them the money sent from Russia by the Great Prince of Moscow, Simeon the Proud, for the restoration of the Church of St. Sophia, at that time in a state of decay.

Although some private settlements of the Turks in Europe, namely in Thrace and the Thractan (Gallipoli) peninsula, had existed, in all likelihood, from the first years of the reign of Cantacuzene, they did not seem dangerous, for they were, of course, under Byzantine authority. But at the beginning of the fifties, a small stronghold near Callipolis (Gallipoli), Zympa, fell into the hands of the Turks. Cantacuzene’s attempt to bribe the Turks to evacuate Zympa failed.

In 1354 almost the whole southern coast of Thrace was struck by a terrible earthquake, which destroyed many cities and fortresses. The Turks fortified Zympa, and seized several cities in the peninsula which were abandoned by the population after the earthquake, among them Callipolis. There they constructed walls, erected strong fortifications and an arsenal, and set a large garrison, so that Callipolis became an extremely important strategic center and a base of support for their further advance in the Balkan peninsula. The people of Constantinople immediately realized their danger, and the news of the capture of Callipolis by the Turks threw them into despair.

A prominent writer of the epoch, Demetrius Cydones, testified that clamors and lamentations resounded all over the whole city.

“What speeches,” he wrote, “were more heard then in the city? Have we not perished? Are not all of us within the walls [of the city] caught as if in the net of the barbarians? Is he not happy who, before these dangers, has left the city?” “In order to escape slavery” all were hastening to Italy, Spain, and even farther “towards the sea beyond the Pillars,”[127] that is to say, beyond the Pillars of Hercules (present day Straits of Gibraltar), perhaps to England. Of these events a Russian chronicler remarked, “In the year 6854 [ab. 1346] the Ismailites [i.e., the Turks] crossed on this side, into the Greek land. In the year 6865 [ab. 1357] they took Callipolis from the Greeks.”[128]

At that time the Venetian representative at Constantinople notified his

government of the danger from the Turks, their possible capture of the remnants of the Empire, the general discontent in Byzantium, with the Emperor and government, and finally, the desire of the majority of the population to be under the power of the Latins, particularly of Venice. In another report the same official wrote that the Greeks of Constantinople, wishing to be protected against the Turks, desired first of all, the domination of Venice, or, if that was impossible, that of “the King of Hungary or Serbia.”[129] To what extent the point of view of the Venetian representative reflected the real spirit in Constantinople is difficult to say.

Historians usually call John Cantacuzene the sole cause of the first establishment of the Turks in the Balkan peninsula; he called on them for aid during his personal struggle for power with John Palaeologus. The impression was that the whole responsibility for the subsequent barbaric behavior of the Turks in Europe was Cantacuzene’s. But, of course, it is not he alone who is responsible for this event, fatal to both Byzantium and Europe. The chief cause lies in the general conditions in Byzantium and the Balkan peninsula, where no serious obstacles could be opposed to the unrestrainable onslaught of the Turks to the west. If Cantacuzene had not called them to Europe, they would have come there in any case. As T. Florinsky said, “By their continuous incursions the Turks had paved the way for the conquest of Thrace; the miserable internal conditions of the Greco-Slavonic world had greatly contributed to the success and impunity of their invasions; finally, the political leaders of various states and peoples … had not the least idea of the threatening danger from the advancing Muhammedan power; on the contrary, all of them sought to compromise with it for their own narrow, egoistic goals; Cantacuzene was no peculiar exception.”

Like Cantacuzene, the Venetians and Genoese, “these privileged defenders of Christianity against Islam,” were at that time occupied with the idea of an alliance with the Turks. The great “Tsar of the Serbs and Greeks,” Dushan, was also seeking for the same alliance. “No one, of course, will absolutely justify Cantacuzene; he cannot be entirely cleared of blame for the unfortunate events which led to the establishment of the Turks in Europe; but we must not forget that he was not the only one. Stephen Dushan would perhaps have brought the Turks into the peninsula, as Cantacuzene had done, if the latter had not anticipated him and prevented him from coming to an agreement with Orkhan.”[130]

Having established themselves at Callipolis the Turks, taking advantage of the unceasing internal troubles in Byzantium and the Slavonic states, Bulgaria and Serbia, began to extend their conquests in the Balkan peninsula. Orkhan’s successor, Sultan Murad I, captured many fortified places very near Constantinople, took possession of such important centers as Hadrianople and Philippopolis, and advancing to the west, began to menace Thessalonica. The capital of the Turkish state was transferred to Hadrianople. Constantinople was being gradually surrounded by Turkish possessions.

The Emperor continued to pay tribute to the sultan.

These conquests brought Murad face to face with Serbia and Bulgaria, which had already lost their former strength due to their internal troubles. Murad marched upon Serbia. The Serbian prince Lazar set out to meet him. In the summer of 1389 the decisive battle took place in the central part of Serbia on the field of Kossovo. At the outset the victory seemed to be on the side of the Serbs. The story goes that a noble Serb, Milosh (Miloš) Obilić or Kobilić, contrived to force a passage into the Turkish camp, presented himself as a deserter to the Turks, and entering Murad’s tent killed him with a stab from a poisoned dagger. The confusion among the Turks was rapidly quelled by Bayazid, the son of the slain Murad. He surrounded the Serbian army and inflicted a crushing defeat upon it. Lazar was taken prisoner and slain. The year of the battle of Kossovo may be considered the year of the fall of Serbia. The miserable remnants of the Serbian Empire which continued to exist for seventy years more, do not deserve the name of a state. In 1389 Serbia became subject to Turkey.[131] Four years later, in 1393 (i.e., after the death of John V), the capital of Bulgaria, Trnovo, was also captured by the Turks, and a short time later the whole territory of Bulgaria came under the power of the Turkish Empire.

The old and ill John V had to suffer a new humiliation which accelerated his death.

To protect the capital against danger from the Turks John set about restoring the city walls and erecting fortifications. On learning of this the sultan commanded him to destroy what had been built and, in case of refusal, threatened to blind the Emperor’s son and heir, Manuel, who was at that time at Bayazid’s court. John was compelled to yield, and fulfill the sultan’s demand. Constantinople entered upon the most critical epoch of its existence.

Genoa, the Black Death of 1348, and the Venetian-Genoese War. — Toward the end of the reign of Andronicus III, the Genoese colony of Galata had obtained a powerful economic and political position and was a sort of state within the state. Taking advantage of the absence of the Byzantine fleet, the Genoese sent their vessels to all the ports of the Archipelago and seized the whole import trade in the Black Sea and in the Straits. A contemporary source, Nicephorus Gregoras, stated that the income from custom duties of Galata amounted annually to 200,000 gold coins, while Byzantium received barely 30,000.[132] Realizing the danger to Byzantium from Galata, Cantacuzene, notwithstanding the internal strife that was wasting the country, started, as far as the disordered finances of the Empire permitted, to build vessels for military and commercial use. The alarmed population of Galata determined to resist Cantacuzene’s plans by force; they occupied the heights commanding Galata and there erected walls, a tower, and various earthen fortifications, and took the initiative against Cantacuzene. The first attack of the Genoese upon Constantinople itself was a failure.

The vessels built by Cantacuzene entered the Golden Horn to fight the Genoese, who at sight of the strength of the new Byzantine fleet were on the point of making peace. But the inexperience of the Greek commanders and the outbreak of a storm led to the crushing of the Greek fleet. The Genoese at Galata decorated their vessels and sailed triumphantly by the imperial palace, mocking the imperial flag which had been taken from the defeated Greek ships. According to the conditions of peace, the debatable heights over Galata remained in the hands of the Genoese, and Galata became increasingly dangerous to Constantinople.

This increase in Genoese influence, already great, could not fail to affect the position of Venice, Genoa’s chief commercial foe in the East. The interests of both republics clashed acutely in the Black Sea and in the Maeotis (the Sea of Azov), where the Genoese had established themselves at Kaffa (Caffa, present-day Theodosia in the Crimea) and Tana, at the mouth of the River Don (near present-day Azov). The Bosphorus, the entrance into the Black Sea, was also in the hands of the Genoese, who, also possessing Galata, had organized on the shore of the Straits a sort of customs house which took commercial tolls from all vessels not Genoese, especially Venetian and Byzantine, sailing into the Black Sea. Genoa’s goal was the establishment of a trade monopoly in the Bosphorus. The interests of Venice and Genoa also came into collision in the islands and on the coast of the Aegean Sea.

An immediate clash between the two republics was temporarily averted by the plague of 1348 and the following years, which paralyzed their forces. This terrible plague, the so-called Black Death, which had been carried from the interior of Asia to the coast of the Maeotis (the Sea of Azov) and to the Crimea, spread from the pestiferous Genoese trade-galleys sailing from Tana and Kaffa all over Constantinople, where it carried off, according to the probably exaggerated statements of the western chronicles, two-thirds or eight-ninths of the population.[133] Thence the plague passed to the islands of the Aegean Sea and the coast of the Mediterranean. Byzantine historians have left a detailed description of the disease showing the complete impotence of the physicians in their struggle against it.[134] In his description of this epidemic John Cantacuzene imitated the famous description of the Athenian plague in the second book of Thucydides. From Byzantium, as western chroniclers narrated, the Genoese galleys spread the disease through the coast cities of Italy, France, and Spain.

“There is something incredible,” remarked M. Kovalevsky, “in this uninterrupted wandering of the pestiferous galleys through the Mediterranean ports.”[135] From these the plague spread to the north and west, and affected Italy, Spain, France, England, Germany, and Norway.[136] At this time, in Italy, Boccaccio was writing his famous Decameron which begins “with a description of the Black Death classical in its picturesqueness and measured solemnity,”[137] when many brave men, fair ladies, and gallant youths “in the soundest of health, broke fast with their kinsfolk, comrades, and friends in the morning, and when evening came, supped with their forefathers in the other world.”[138] Scholars compare the description of Boccaccio with that of Thucydides, and some of them hold the humanist in higher estimation even than the classic writer.[139]

From Germany through the Baltic Sea and Poland the plague penetrated into Pskov, Novgorod, and Moscow, in Russia, where the great prince, Simeon the Proud, fell its victim in 1353, and then it spread all over Russia. In some cities, according to the statement of a Russian chronicle, no single man was left alive.[140]

Venice was actively preparing for war. After the horrors of the plague were somewhat forgotten, the Republic of St. Mark made an alliance with the King of Aragon.

The latter was discontented with Genoa and consented, by his attacks upon the shores and islands of Italy, to distract the Genoese and thereby to facilitate the advance of Venice in the east. After some hesitation John Cantacuzene joined the Aragon-Venetian alliance against Genoa; he accused the “ungrateful nation of the Genoese” of forgetting

“the fear of the Lord,” devastating the seas “as if they were seized with a mania for pillaging,” and of endeavoring permanently “to disturb the seas and navigators by their piratical attacks.”[141]

The chief battle, in which about 150 Greek, Venetian, Aragonese, and Genoese vessels took part, was fought in the beginning of the sixth decade, in the Bosphorus. It had no decisive result; each side claimed victory. The friendly relations between the Genoese and Ottoman-Turks forced John Cantacuzene to give up his alliance with Venice and become reconciled with the Genoese, to whom he gave his promise not to support Venice henceforth. He also consented to give more territory to the Genoese colony of Galata. But after some clashes Venice and Genoa, exhausted by the war, made peace. Since it failed to solve the chief problem in the conflict, the peace lasted only a short time; again a war broke out, the war of Tenedos. Tenedos, one of the few islands of the Archipelago still in the hands of the Byzantine emperors, possessed, owing to its position at the entrance into the Dardanelles, the greatest significance for the states which had commercial relations with Constantinople and the countries around the Black Sea. Since both shores of the straits were in the hands of the Ottoman Turks, Tenedos was an excellent observation point of their actions. Venice, which had already for a long time dreamed of occupying this island, after long negotiations with the Emperor at last got his consent. But the Genoese could not acquiesce in the cession of Tenedos to Venice; in order to prevent its accomplishment, they succeeded in raising a revolution at Constantinople which deposed John V and set his eldest son, Andronicus, upon the throne for three years. The war which had broken out between the two republics exhausted both of them and ruined all the states which had commercial concerns in the East. At last, in 1381, the war ended with the peace made at Turin, the capital of the Duchy of Savoy.

A detailed and voluminous text of the conference of Turin exists.[142] With the personal participation of the count of Savoy, the conference discussed various general problems of international life, which was already very complicated at that time, and worked out the conditions of peace; of the latter, only those are interesting here which put an end to the dispute between Venice and Genoa and which referred to Byzantium.

Venice was to evacuate the island of Tenedos, the fortifications of which were leveled to the ground; the island itself was on a set date to pass into the hands of the Count of Savoy (in manibus prefati domini Sabaudie comitis), who was related to the Palaeologi (on the side of Anne of Savoy, wife of Andronicus III). Thus neither Venice nor Genoa gained this important strategic point, to whose possession they had so eagerly aspired.

A Spanish traveler, Pero Tafur, who visited Constantinople in 1437 gave a very interesting description of Tenedos:

We came to the island of Tenedos, where we anchored and disembarked. While the ship was being refitted we set out to see the island, which is some eight or ten miles about.

There are many conies, and it is covered with vineyards, but they are all spoilt. The harbor of Tenedos looks so new that it might have been built today by a masterhand.

The mole is made of great stones and columns, and here the ships have their moorings and excellent anchorage. There are other places where ships can anchor, but this is the best, since it is opposite the entrance to the Straits of Romania [Dardanelles]. Above the harbor is a great hill surmounted by a very strong castle. This castle was the cause of much fighting between the Venetians and Genoese until the Pope sentenced it to be destroyed, that it might belong to neither. But, without doubt, this was very ill-advised, since the harbor is one of the best in the world. No ship can enter the straits without first anchoring there to find the entrance, which is very narrow, and the Turks, knowing how many ships touch there, arm themselves and lie in wait and kill many Christians.[143]

As for the acute question of the trade-monopoly of the Genoese in the Black Sea and Maeotis, especially in the colony of Tana, Genoa, according to the conditions of the peace of Turin, was obliged to give up her intention of closing the Venetian markets of the Black Sea and of shutting off access to Tana. The commercial nations resumed their intercourse with Tana, which, situated at the mouth of the river Don, was one of the very important centers of trade with eastern peoples. Peaceful relations between Genoa and the elderly John V, who had regained the throne, were restored. Byzantium had again to steer a way between the two republics, whose commercial interests in the East, despite the terms of peace, continued to collide. However, the peace of Turin, which ended a great war caused by the economic rivalry of Venice and Genoa, was of great importance because it allowed the nations which maintained intercourse with Romania to resume their trade, which had been interrupted for many years. But their further destiny depended upon the Ottoman Turks, to whom, as was already obvious at the end of the fourteenth century, belonged the future of the Christian East.

Manuel II (1391-1425) and the Turks.

In one of his essays, Manuel II wrote: “When I had passed my childhood and not yet reached the age of man, I was encompassed by a life full of tribulation and trouble; but according to many indications, it might have been foreseen that our future would cause us to look at the past as a time of clear tranquility.”[144] Manuel’s presentiments did not deceive him.

Byzantium, or rather, Constantinople, was in a desperate and humiliating position in the last years of the reign of John V. At the moment of John’s death, Manuel was at the court of Sultan Bayazid. When tidings of his father’s death reached him, he succeeded in fleeing from the sultan and arrived in Constantinople, where he was crowned emperor. According to Ducas, Bayazid, feared the popularity of Manuel and regretted not having murdered him during his stay at his court. Bayazid’s envoy sent to Constantinople to Manuel, as Ducas related, gave the new Emperor these words from the sultan: “If you wish to execute my orders, close the gates of the city and reign within it; but all that lies outside belongs to me.”[145] Thereafter Constantinople was practically in a state of siege. The only relief for the capital lay in the unsatisfactory condition of the Turkish fleet; for that reason the Turks, though possessing both sides of the Dardanelles, were unable for the time being to cut off Byzantium from intercourse with the outside world through this strait. Especially terrible to the Christian East was the moment when Bayazid, by craftiness, gathered together in one place the representatives of the families of the Palaeologi with Manuel at their head, and the Slavonic princes; he seems to have intended to do away with them at once, “in order that,” to quote the Sultan’s words given in a writing of Manuel, “after the land had been cleared of thorns, by which he meant us [that is to say, the Christians], his sons might dance in the Christian land without fearing to scratch their feet.”[146] The representatives of the ruling families were spared, but the severe wrath of the sultan struck many nobles of their retinue.

In 1392 Bayazid organized a maritime expedition in the Black Sea ostensibly against Sinope. But the sultan put the Emperor Manuel at the head of the Turkish fleet.

Therefore Venice thought that this expedition was directed not against Sinope, but against the Venetian colonies, south of the Dardanelles, in the Archipelago — not a Turkish expedition, but a disguised Greek expedition, supported by Turkish troops. As a recent historian said, the Oriental problem of the end of the fourteenth century might have been solved by the formation of a Turko-Greek Empire.[147] This interesting episode, evidence of which is in the archives of Venice, had no important results.

Shortly after, the friendly relations between Byzantium and Bayazid came to an open break, and Manuel again turned to the West which for some time had been neglected.

Hard pressed, Manuel opened friendly negotiations with Venice. Bayazid tried to cut off Constantinople from its food supply. Such acute need was felt in the capital that, as a Byzantine chronicler said, the people pulled down their houses in order to get wood for baking bread.[148] At the request of Byzantine envoys, Venice sent some corn to Constantinople.[149]

The crusade of Sigismund of Hungary and the Battle of Nicopolis. — Meanwhile, the successes of the Turks in the Balkan peninsula again raised the question of immediate danger to western Europe. The subjugation of Bulgaria and the nearly complete conquest of Serbia had led the Turks to the borders of the Kingdom of Hungary. The king of Hungary, Sigismund, feeling complete impotence against the threatening Turkish danger with only his own forces, appealed to the European rulers for help.

France answered the appeal with the greatest enthusiasm. In obedience to the voice of his people, the king of France sent a small body of troops, the duke of Burgundy at their head. Poland, England, Germany, and some smaller states also sent troops. Venice, joined the campaign. Just before Sigismund’s crusade started, Manuel seems to have formed a league with the Genoese of the Aegean islands, namely Lesbos and Chios, and with the Knights of Rhodes, in other words, with the Christian outposts in the Aegean Sea.[150] As for Manuel’s relation to Sigismund’s crusade, perhaps he pledged himself to share in the expenses of the campaign.

The crusading enterprise ended in complete failure. In 1396, the crusaders were crushed by the Turks in the battle of Nicopolis (on the right shore of the lower Danube) and compelled to return to their homes. Sigismund, who had barely escaped capture, sailed in a small vessel by way of the mouth of the Danube and the Black Sea to Constantinople, whence, by a roundabout way through the Archipelago and the Adriatic Sea, he returned to Hungary.[151] A participator in the battle of Nicopolis, the Bavarian soldier Schiltberger, who had been taken prisoner by the Turks, and spent some time at Gallipoli, described as an eyewitness Sigismund’s passage through the Dardanelles which the Turks could not prevent. According to his statement, the Turks put all their Christian captives in line along the shore of the straits and mockingly shouted to Sigismund to leave his vessel and free his people.[152]

After the defeat of the western crusaders at Nicopolis, the victorious Bayazid, planning to strike a final blow to Constantinople, decided to ruin the few regions that still belonged, though almost nominally, to the Empire, from which the besieged capital could get some help. He devastated Thessaly, which submitted to him, and, according to Turkish sources, even seized Athens for a short time;[153] his best generals inflicted terrible destruction on Morea, where Manuel’s brother was ruling under the title of Despot.

Meanwhile, popular dissatisfaction was growing in the capital; the tired and exhausted populace were murmuring, accusing Manuel of their misery, and beginning to turn their eyes to his nephew John, who had in 1390 deposed for some months Manuel’s old father, John V.

The expedition of Marshal Boucicaut. — Realizing that with his own forces he would not be able to overcome the Turks, Manuel decided to appeal for help to the most powerful rulers of western Europe and to the Russian great prince Vasili I Dmitrievich.

The pope, Venice, France, England, and possibly Aragon replied favorably to Manuel’s appeal. His request seemed especially flattering to the king of France, because, declared a contemporary western chronicler, “it was the first time that the ancient emperors of the whole world had appealed for help to such a remote country.”[154] Manuel’s appeal to western Europe gained him a certain, but an insufficient, amount of money, and the hope of getting from France aid in men, Manuel’s request for help from the Great Prince of Moscow, supported by a request to the same purpose from the patriarch of Constantinople, was favorably received in Moscow. There seems to have been no question at the court of Moscow of sending troops to Constantinople; it was only a question of granting “alms to those who are in such need and misery, besieged by the Turks.” Money was sent to Constantinople, where it was accepted with great gratitude.

But money contributions could not help Manuel substantially.

The king of France, Charles VI, fulfilled his promise and sent in support of Constantinople 1200 men-at-arms, at whose head he placed Marshal Boucicaut.

Boucicaut was one of the most interesting men of France at the end of the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth century. A man of extraordinary valor and determination, he had spent all his life in long journeys and dangerous adventures. As a young man, he had set out to the East, to Constantinople, traveled all over Palestine, reached Sinai, and for several months had been captive in Egypt. On his return to France, hearing of the appeal of the king of Hungary, Sigismund, Boucicaut had hastened to him, fought with astounding valor in the fatal battle of Nicopolis, and had fallen prisoner to Bayazid. Escaping death almost by a miracle, and ransomed, Boucicaut returned to France in order, in the ensuing year, with all readiness and energy, to take the head of the body of troops sent by Charles VI to the East.

Members of the most eminent families of the French chivalry were included among the men-at-arms of Boucicaut. He set out by sea. Notified of the approach of his vessels to the Dardanelles, Bayazid attempted to prevent the Marshal from passing through the straits. But Boucicaut, after many dangers and with much effort, succeeded in breaking through the Dardanelles, and arriving in Constantinople, where his fleet was received with the greatest joy. Boucicaut and Manuel made many devastating raids along the Asiatic coast of the Marmora Sea and the Bosphorus, and even penetrated into the Black Sea. But these successes did not change the situation; they could not free Constantinople from her approaching fall. Seeing the critical position of Manuel and his capital, as regards both finances and provisions, Boucicaut determined to return to France, but only after he had persuaded the Emperor to go with him to the West in order to make a stronger impression there and induce the western European rulers to take more decisive steps. Such modest expeditions as that of Boucicaut evidently could not help the desperate situation of Byzantium.

The journey of Manuel II in Western Europe. — When Manuel’s journey to the West was decided, his nephew John consented to take the reins of government during the Emperor’s absence. Late in the year 1399, accompanied by a retinue of clerical and lay representatives, Manuel and Boucicaut left the capital for Venice.[156]

The Republic of St. Mark was in a difficult position when asked to lend Byzantium a helping hand. Her important commercial interests in the East caused Venice to regard the Turks, especially after their brilliant victory at Nicopolis, not only from the point of view of a Christian state, but also from that of a trading state. Venice had even made some treaties with Bayazid. Then commercial rivalry with Genoa in the East, and the attitude of Venice towards the other Italian states, also kept her forces from Manuel’s aid. They were needed at home. But Venice and the other Italian cities visited by Manuel received him with honor and showed him great compassion. Whether the Emperor saw the pope or not is doubtful. When Manuel was leaving Italy, encouraged by the promises of Venice and the Duke of Milan and the papal bulls, and planning a visit to the greatest centers of western Europe, Paris and London, he still believed in the importance and effectiveness of his long journey.

The Emperor arrived in France at a complex and interesting time, the epoch of the Hundred Years’ War between France and England. The armistice which existed at his arrival might be broken at any moment. In France there was going on a very real and active polemic struggle between the Pope of Avignon and the University of Paris, which had reduced the papal power in France and caused the recognition of the final authority of the king in ecclesiastical affairs. Finally King Charles VI himself was subject to frequent fits of insanity.

A solemn reception and a richly adorned residence in the palace of the Louvre were prepared in Paris for Manuel. A Frenchman who was an eyewitness of the Emperor’s entrance into Paris describes his appearance; he was of average stature and solid constitution, with a long and already very white beard, had features which inspired respect and, in the opinion of the French, was worthy of being Emperor.[157]

His stay in Paris of more than four months afforded modest results: the king and Royal Council decided to support him by a body of men-at-arms, at whose head Marshal Boucicaut was to be placed. Satisfied with that promise, the Emperor went to London, where he was also received with great honor and given many promises, but he was soon disappointed. In one of his letters from London, Manuel wrote: “The King gives us help in warriors, marksmen, money, and vessels to carry the troops where we need.”[158] But this promise was not fulfilled. After a stay of two months in London, Manuel, loaded with presents and overwhelmed with attention and honor, but without the promised military support, returned to Paris. An English historian of the fifteenth century, Adam Usk, wrote: “I thought within myself, what a grievous thing it was that this great Christian prince from the farther East, should perforce be driven by unbelievers to visit the distant islands of the West, to seek aid against them. My God!

What dost thou, ancient glory of Rome? Shorn is the greatness of thine empire this day; and truly may the words of Jeremy be spoken unto thee: ‘Princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary, (Lament. 1:1).’ Who would ever believe that thou shouldst sink to such depth of misery, that, although once seated on the throne of majesty thou didst lord it over all the world, now thou hast no power to bring succour to the Christian faith?”[159]

Manuel’s second stay in Paris lasted about two years. Information on this visit is scanty. He became, apparently, a matter of course to the French, and contemporary chroniclers who note many details concerning Manuel’s first stay in Paris, say very little of his second visit. The little information on this subject comes from his letters.

Those which refer to the beginning of his second stay are marked by high spirits; but these spirits gradually fell as he began to understand that he could not count upon any important support from either England or France. Of the last period of his stay in France, there are no imperial letters.

But some interesting records exist describing the way the Emperor spent his leisure time in Paris. In the beautifully decorated castle of the Louvre, for example, where Manuel had his residence, the Emperor turned his attention, among other decorations, to a magnificent tapestry, a kind of Gobelin, with a reproduction of spring.

In his leisure time, the Emperor made a fine description written in a rather jocose style of this reproduction of spring on “a royal woven curtain.” This essay of Manuel exists today.[160]

The battle of Angora and its significance to Byzantium. — Meanwhile, the fruitless stay of Manuel in Paris began to seem endless. At this time an event which had taken place in Asia Minor induced the Emperor to leave France at once and to return to Constantinople. In July, 1402, was fought the famous battle of Angora, by which Timur (Tamerlane) defeated Bayazid and thereby relieved Constantinople from immediate danger. The news of this exceedingly important event reached Paris only two and a half months after the battle. The Emperor prepared quickly for his return journey and came back to the capital via Genoa and Venice after three years and a half of absence. The Slavonic city on the Adriatic, Ragusa (Dubrovnik), hoping that the Emperor would stop there on his way home, made elaborate preparations to welcome him. But he passed by without stopping.[161] In memory of his stay in France, he presented to the abbey of St.

Denis near Paris an illuminated manuscript of Dionysius the Areopagite, preserved today in the Louvre. Among the miniatures of this manuscript is the picture of the Emperor, his wife, and their three sons. Manuel’s picture is of great interest, because the Turks found and admired in his features a strong resemblance to Muhammed, the founder of Islam. Bayazid, reported the Byzantine historian Phrantzes, said of Manuel:

“One who does not know that he is Emperor would say from his appearance that he is Emperor.”[162]

The fruitlessness of Manuel’s journey to western Europe, as far as the substantial needs of the Empire were concerned, is evident; both historians and chroniclers of the time recognized the lack of result and pointed it out in their annals.[163] But this journey is of great interest examined from the point of view of the information acquired by western Europe about the Byzantine Empire in the period of its fall. This journey is an episode in the cultural intercourse between West and East at the end of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth century, in the epoch of the Italian Renaissance.

The battle of Angora had great importance for the last days of the Byzantine Empire. Towards the end of the fourteenth century, the Mongol empire, which had fallen into pieces, was unified again under the power of Timur or Tamerlane (Timur-Lenk, which means in translation “iron-lame,” Timur the Lame). Timur had undertaken on a large scale many devastating expeditions into southern Russia, northern India, Mesopotamia, Persia, and Syria. His marches were accompanied by atrocious cruelties.

Thousands of men were slain, cities ruined, fields destroyed, A Byzantine historian wrote: “When Timur’s Mongols left one city to go to another, they left it so deserted and abandoned, that in it was heard neither barking of dog, nor cackling of fowl, nor cry of child.”[164]

Entering Asia Minor after his Syrian expedition, Timur clashed with the Ottoman Turks. Sultan Bayazid hastened from Europe to Asia Minor to meet Timur, and there, at the city of Angora (Ancyra), in 1402, was fought a bloody battle, which ended in the complete defeat of the Turks. Bayazid himself fell a prisoner to Timur; he shortly after died in captivity, Timur did not remain in Asia Minor. He undertook an expedition against China, and on his way there died. After his death, the whole huge Mongol Empire fell to pieces and lost its significance. But after their defeat at Angora, the Turks were so weakened that for a time they were unable to take decisive steps against Constantinople; thereby the existence of the dying Empire was prolonged for another fifty years.

In spite of Manuel’s poor success, he did not give up his plans after his return from western Europe but continued to seek for the help of the West against the Turks. There are two very interesting letters addressed by Manuel to the kings of Aragon, Martin V

(1395-1410) and Ferdinand I (1412-1416). In the first, which was transmitted to Martin through the agency of the famous Byzantine humanist Manuel Chrysoloras, who was at that time in Italy, Manuel informed Martin that he was sending him, at his request, some precious relics, and begged him to convey to Constantinople the money which had been collected in Spain to help the Empire.[165] Chrysoloras’ mission, however, came to nothing. Later, during a voyage to Morea, Manuel wrote another letter from Thessalonica, this time addressed to Ferdinand I. It shows that Ferdinand had promised Manuel’s son Theodore, the despot of Morea, to come there with a considerable army to aid the Christians in general and Manuel in particular. Manuel wrote to express his hope of meeting Ferdinand in Morea, but Ferdinand never came.[166]

The situation in the Peloponnesus. — In the last fifty years of the existence of the remains of the Byzantine Empire, the Peloponnesus, rather unexpectedly, attracted the attention of the central government. As the territory of the Empire was reduced to Constantinople, the adjoining portion of Thrace, one or two islands in the Archipelago, Thessalonica, and the Peloponnesus, obviously next to Constantinople the Peloponnesus was the most important part of the Greek possessions. Contemporaries discovered that it was an ancient and purely Greek country, that the inhabitants were real Hellenes and not Romans, and that nowhere else could be created a basis for continuing the struggle against the Ottomans. While northern Greece had already fallen a prey to the Turks and the rest of ancient Greece was on the point of succumbing to the Turkish yoke, in the Peloponnesus there arose a center of Greek national spirit and Hellenic patriotism, which was powerfully affected by a dream, delusive from the historical point of view, of regenerating the Empire and opposing the might of the Ottoman state.

After the Fourth Crusade, the Peloponnesus (or Morea) passed into the power of the Latins. At the beginning of the reign of the restorer of the Byzantine Empire, Michael VIII Palaeologus, the prince of Achaia, William Villehardouin, was captured by the Greeks and gave as ransom three strongholds; Monembasia, Maina, and the recently built Mistra. Since the Greek power in the Peloponnesus was slowly but continuously increasing at the expense of the Latin possessions, the Byzantine province which had been formed there became by the middle of the fourteenth century so important that it was reorganized as a separate despotat and made the appanage of the second son of the Constantinopolitan emperor, who became a sort of viceroy of the emperor in the Peloponnesus. At the end of the fourteenth century the Peloponnesus was mercilessly devastated by the Turks. Having lost all hope of defending the country with his own forces, the Despot of Morea proposed to yield his possessions to the Knights of the Order of Hospitalers of St. John, who at that time held the island of Rhodes, and only the popular insurrection at Mistra, capital of the Despotat, which burst out at this proposal, prevented him from doing so. The weakness of the Ottoman Turks after the defeat of Angora made it possible for the Peloponnesus to recover a little and to hope for better times.[167]

The chief city of the Despotat of Morea, Mistra, medieval Sparta, residence of the Despot, was in the fourteenth century and at the beginning of the fifteenth a political and cultural center of reviving Hellenism. Here were the tombs of the Despots of Morea. Here John Cantacuzene died at a very advanced age, and here he was buried.

While the condition of the country people made a contemporary, Mazaris, afraid that he himself would become a barbarian,[168] at the court of the Despot, in his castle of Mistra, was a cultural center which was attracting educated Greeks, scholars, sophists, and courtiers. It is related that in the fourteenth century, at Sparta, there existed a school for copiers of ancient manuscripts. Gregorovius justly compared the court of Mistra with some courts of Italian princes of the Renaissance.[169] The famous Byzantine scholar, humanist, and philosopher, Gemistus Plethon, lived at the court of the Despot of Morea during the reign of Manuel II.

In 1415, Manuel himself visited the Peloponnesus, where his second son Theodore was Despot at the time. The Emperor’s first measure to protect the peninsula against future invasions was the construction of a wall with numerous towers on the Isthmus of Corinth. The wall was erected on the site of the rampart which in the fifth century B.C. the Peloponnesians had raised on the approach of Xerxes; this was restored in the third century A.D. by the Emperor Valerian when he fortified Greece against the Goths; and finally it was constructed again by Justinian the Great when Greece was threatened by the Huns and Slavs.[170] In preparation for this same Turkish danger in the fifteenth century, the predecessor of Theodore had established numerous colonies of Albanians in some desert regions of the Peloponnesus, and Manuel II, who delivered his funeral oration,[171] praised him for this precaution.

The projected reforms of Gemistus Plethon. — In Peloponnesian affairs in that time there were two interesting contemporary writers, quite different in character. One was the Byzantine scholar and humanist, Gemistus Plethon, a philhellenist obsessed by the idea that the Peloponnesian population was of the purest and most ancient Hellenic blood and that from the Peloponnesus had come the noblest and most famous families

“of the Hellenes,” who had achieved “the greatest and most celebrated deeds.”[172]

The other was Mazaris, author of the Sojourn of Mazaris in Hades, “undoubtedly,” as K.

Krumbacher said, perhaps not without exaggeration, “the worst of the hitherto known imitations of Lucian,”[173] a kind of libel, in which the author describes sarcastically the customs and manners of the Peloponnesus-Morea, deriving the latter name in the form of Mora (μωρα), from the Greek word moria (μωρια)[174] meaning silliness, folly.

In contrast to Plethon, Mazaris distinguished seven nationalities in the population of the Peloponnesus: Greeks (in Mazaris, Lacedaemonians and Peloponnesians), Italians (i.e. the remains of the Latin conquerors), Slavs (Sthlavinians), Illyrians (i.e. Albanians), Egyptians (Gipsies), and Jews.[175] These statements of Mazaris are historical truth.

Although both writers, the learned utopian Plethon as well as the satirist Mazaris, must be used with caution, both of them afford rich and interesting cultural data on the Peloponnesus of the first half of the fifteenth century.

To the time of Manuel II should be referred two interesting “accounts” or

“addresses” written by Gemistus Plethon on the urgency of political and social reform for the Peloponnesus. One of these pamphlets was addressed to the Emperor, and the other to the Despot of Morea, Theodore. The German historian, Pallmerayer, was the first, in his History of the Peninsula of Morea, to draw the attention of scholars to the importance of those schemes of the Hellenic dreamer.[176]

Plethon had in view the regeneration of the Peloponnesus, and for this purpose he drew up a plan for a radical change in the social system and the treatment of the land problem.[177] According to Plethon, society should be divided into three classes: (1) the cultivators of the soil (ploughmen, diggers, for example, diggers for vineyards, and shepherds); (2) those who provide instruments of work (i.e. those who care for oxen, cattle, and so on);[178] and (3) those who have the care of safety and order, i.e., the army, government, and state officials; at the head of all should be an emperor —

basileus. Opposed to mercenary troops, Plethon advocated the formation of an indigenous Greek army; and that the army may devote all their time and attention to performing their proper duties, Plethon divided the population into two categories: taxpayers, and those who render military service; the soldiery should not be liable to taxation. The portion of the taxable population which takes no part in administration and defense was called by Plethon the Helots. Private land ownership was abolished;

“the whole land, as it seems to have been established by nature, should be the common property of the population; every one who will may plant and build a home where he would, and till the soil as much as he would and could.”[179] These were the chief points of Plethon’s report. His scheme shows the influence of Plato, whom the Byzantine humanist greatly admired. It will remain an interesting cultural document of the Byzantine renaissance of the epoch of the Palaeologi. Several scholars indicate in Plethon’s scheme some points of analogy with parts of the Social Contract of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and with the ideas of Saint-Simon.[180]

Thus, on the eve of the final catastrophe, Plethon was proposing to Manuel II a plan of reforms for regenerated Hellas. The French Byzantinist, Ch. Diehl, wrote: “While Constantinople is weakened and falling, a Greek state tries to be born in Morea. And however vain these aspirations may seem and however sterile these wishes may appear, nevertheless this recovery of the consciousness of Hellenism and this conception of and obscure preparation for a better future is one of the most interesting and remarkable phenomena of Byzantine history.”[181]

The siege of Constantinople in 1422. Until the beginning of the third decade of the fifteenth century, the relations between Manuel and Bayazid’s successor, Muhammed I, a noble representative of the Ottoman state, were marked, in spite of some errors on the part of the Emperor, by confidence and peace. Once, with the Emperor’s knowledge, the sultan passed through a suburb of Constantinople, where he was met by Manuel.

Each sovereign remained on his own galley, and conversing from the galleys in a friendly manner, crossed the straits to the Asiatic coast where the sultan pitched his tents; but the Emperor did not descend from his galley. During dinner, the monarchs sent each other their most delicate dishes from their tables.[182] But under Muhammed’s successor, Murad II, circumstances changed.

In the last years of his life, Manuel withdrew from state affairs and entrusted them to his son, John, who had neither experience nor the poise and noble character of his father. John insisted on supporting one of the Turkish pretenders to the sultan’s throne; an attempt at revolt failed and the infuriated Murad II decided to besiege Constantinople and crush at once this long-coveted city.

But the Ottoman forces, which had not had time enough to recover after the defeat of Angora and which were weakened by internal complications, were not yet ready to deal such a blow. In 1422, the Turks besieged Constantinople. In Byzantine literature there is a special work on this siege written by a contemporary, John Cananus, entitled,

“A narrative of the Constantinopolitan wars of 6930 (= 1422), when Amurat-bey attacked the city with a great army and would have taken it if the Blessed Mother of God had not preserved it.”[183] A strong Muhammedan army equipped with various war machinery attempted to take the city by storm but it was repulsed by the heroic efforts of the population of the capital. Some complications within the Ottoman Empire compelled the Turks to give up the siege. The capital’s relief from danger was, as always, connected in popular tradition with the intercession of the Mother of God, the constant protectress of Constantinople. Meanwhile, the Turkish troops were not satisfied to attack the capital; after an unsuccessful attempt to take Thessalonica, they marched south into Greece where they destroyed the wall on the Isthmus of Corinth built by Manuel, and devastated Morea.[184] Manuel’s coemperor John VIII spent about a year in Venice, Milan, and Hungary in search of aid. According to the peace made with the Turks, the Emperor pledged himself to continue to pay the sultan a definite tribute, and delivered to him several cities in Thrace. The territory of Constantinople was growing still more limited. After this siege, the capital dragged out a pitiful existence for about thirty years in anxious expectation of its unavoidable ruin.

In 1425, the paralyzed Manuel passed away. With a feeling of profound mourning the mass of the population of the capital followed the hearse of the dead Emperor. Such a crowd of mourning people had never been seen at the burial of any of his predecessors.[185] A special investigator of Manuel’s activity, Berger de Xivrey, wrote:

“This feeling will seem sincere to whoever will remember all the trials which this sovereign shared with his people, all his endeavors to help them, and the deep sympathy of thought and feeling he always had for them.”[186]

The most important event of the time of Manuel was the battle of Angora, which delayed the fall of Constantinople for fifty years. But even this brief relief from the Ottoman danger was attained not by the strength of the Byzantine emperor, but by the Mongol power accidentally created in the east. The chief event upon which Manuel had relied, the rising of western Europe in a crusade, had not taken place. The siege and storm of Constantinople by the Turks in 1422 was only a prologue to the siege and storm of 1453. In estimating relations with the Turks in Manuel’s time one must not lose sight of the personal influence which the Emperor had with the Turkish sultans and which several times delayed the final doom of the perishing Empire.

John VIII (1425-48) and the Turkish menace.

Under John VIII the territory of the Empire was reduced to the most modest extent. Shortly before his father’s death John had been forced to cede several cities of Thrace to the sultan. After John had become sole ruler of the Empire, his power extended, properly speaking, over Constantinople and the nearest surrounding country. But the rest of the Empire, for example, the Peloponnesus, Thessalonica, and some scattered cities in Thrace, were under the power of his brothers as separate principalities almost entirely independent.

In 1430, Thessalonica was conquered by the Turks. One of the brothers of John VIII, who was governing Thessalonica with the title of despot, realized that with his own forces he could not contend with the Turks, and sold the city to Venice for a sum of money. Venice in taking possession of this important commercial point pledged herself, according to Ducas, “to protect and nourish it, raise its prosperity, and make it a second Venice.”[187] But the Turks, who already possessed the surrounding country, could not tolerate the establishment of Venice at Thessalonica. Under the personal leadership of the sultan, they laid siege to Thessalonica; the course and result of the siege are well described in a special work, On the last capture of Thessalonica, written by a contemporary, John Anagnostes (i.e., Reader).[188] The Latin garrison of Thessalonica was small and the population of the city regarded the new Venetian masters as aliens. They could not resist the Turks who, after a short siege, took the city by storm and exposed it to terrible destruction and outrage. The people were murdered without distinction of sex or age. Churches were turned into mosques, but the Church of St. Demetrius of Thessalonica, the chief patron of the city, was temporarily left to the Christians, though in a state of complete desolation.

The taking of Thessalonica by the Turks was also described in Greek verse by a high church official in Constantinople in his Chronicle on the Turkish Empire.[189] Some Greek folk songs were composed on this disastrous event.[190] The loss of Thessalonica impressed deeply both Venice and western Europe. The nearness of the decisive moment was of course also felt in the city of Constantinople.

An interesting description of Constantinople was written by a pilgrim returning from Jerusalem, a Burgundian knight, Bertrandon de la Broquière, who visited the capital of the Palaeologi at the beginning of the thirties, shortly after the fall of Thessalonica. He praised the good state of the walls, the land-walls in particular, but noticed some desolation in the city; he spoke for example of the ruins and remnants of two beautiful palaces destroyed, according to a tradition, by an Emperor at the command of a Turkish sultan. The Burgundian pilgrim visited the churches and other monuments of the capital, attended the solemn church services, saw in the church of St. Sophia the performance of a mystery on the subject of the three youths cast by Nebuchadnezzar into the fiery furnace, was charmed with the beauty of the Byzantine Empress, who came from Trebizond, and told the Emperor, who was interested in the fate of Joan of Arc, who had just been burnt at Rouen, “the whole truth” about the famous “Maid of Orléans.”[191] The same pilgrim, from his observations of the Turks, believed it possible to expel them from Europe and even to regain Jerusalem. He wrote;

“It seems to me that the noble people and the good government of the three nations I have mentioned, i.e., the French, English, and German, are rather formidable, and, if they are united in sufficient number, will be able to reach Jerusalem by land.”[192]

Realizing the coming danger to the capital from the Turks, John VIII undertook the great work of restoring the walls of Constantinople. Many inscriptions on the walls preserved today with the name of “John Palaeologus Autocrat in Christ,” testify to the Christian Emperor’s difficult last attempt to restore the fortifications of Theodosius the Younger, which had once appeared inaccessible.

But this did not suffice for the struggle with the Ottomans. Like his predecessors, John VIII hoped to receive real help against the Turks from the West, with the co-operation of the pope. For this purpose the Emperor himself with the Greek patriarch and a brilliant retinue sailed for Italy. The result of this journey was the conclusion of the famous Union of Florence. As far as real help to Byzantium was concerned, however, the imperial journey to Italy was of no avail.

Pope Eugenius IV preached a crusade and succeeded in arousing to war against the Turks the Hungarians, Poles, and Roumanians. A crusading army was formed under the command of the king of Poland and Hungary, Vladislav, and the famous Hungarian hero and chief, John Hunyadi. In the battle at Varna, in 1444, the crusaders were crushed by the Turks. Vladislav fell in battle. With the remnants of the army, John Hunyadi retreated to Hungary. The battle of Varna was the last attempt of western Europe to come to the help of perishing Byzantium. Thereafter Constantinople was left to its fate.[193]

Some documents from the archives of Barcelona, comparatively recently

published, have revealed the aggressive plans of the famous Maecenas of the epoch of the Renaissance, the king of Aragon, Alfonso V the Magnanimous, who died in 1458.

Having reunited Sicily and Naples under his power for a short time in the middle of the fifteenth century, he was planning to carry on a vast aggressive campaign in the East, which was similar to the grandiose plans of Charles of Anjou. Constantinople was one of Alfonso’s goals, and the idea of a crusade against the Turks never left him. For a long time he had realized that, if the growing might and “insolent prosperity” of the Ottomans were not put down, he would have no security for the maritime confines of his realm. But Alfonso’s ambitious plans were not realized and the Turks were never seriously menaced by this talented and brilliant humanist and politician.[194]

After the victory of the Turks at Varna, John VIII, who had taken no part in the crusading expedition, entered immediately into negotiations with the sultan, whom he endeavored to soften with presents, and he succeeded in keeping peaceful relations with him up to the end of his reign.

Although in relations with the Turks, Byzantium under John VIII suffered continuous and bitter failures, the Greek arms gained a considerable victory, though of short duration, in the Peloponnesus (Morea), an appanage nearly independent from the central government. Besides the Byzantine possessions, there were in the Peloponnesus the remnants of the principality of Achaia and some other places, especially in the very south of the peninsula which belonged to Venice. At the beginning of the fifteenth century Venice set herself the goal of subduing the portion of the Peloponnesus which was still in Latin hands; for this purpose she entered into negotiations with the different rulers in the peninsula. On one hand, the Republic of St. Mark wanted to take possession of the wall on the Isthmus of Corinth, which had been built under Manuel II, in order to offer adequate resistance to the Turkish invasions. On the other, Venice was attracted by her commercial interests, because, according to the information gathered by the representative of the Republic, the resources of the country in gold, silver, silk, honey, corn, raisins, and other things promised great advantages. During the reign of John VIII, however, the troops of the Greek despotat in Morea opened hostilities against the Latins, quickly gained the Latin part of the Peloponnesus, and thereby put an end to Frankish power in Morea. From then to the time of the Turkish conquest, the whole peninsula belonged to the family of the Palaeologi; Venice maintained only the points in the south, which she had possessed before.

One of the Despots of Morea, Constantine, John VIII’s brother, who was to be the last emperor of Byzantium, took advantage of some difficulties of the Turks in the Balkan peninsula to march north with his troops across the Isthmus of Corinth into middle and northern Greece, where the Turks were already making their conquests.

After his victory over the Christians at Varna, Sultan Murad II considered the invasion of Constantine into northern Greece as an insult to him; he marched south, broke through the fortified wall on the Isthmus of Corinth, terribly devastated the Peloponnesus, and carried away into captivity a great number of Greeks. The horrified Despot Constantine was glad to make peace on the sultan’s terms; he remained Despot of Morea and pledged himself to pay a tribute to the sultan.

Under Constantine Palaeologus the famous traveler, archeologist, and merchant of that time, Cyriacus of Ancona, visited Mistra, where he was graciously received by the despot (Constantinum cognomento Dragas) and his dignitaries. At his court Cyriacus met Gemistus Plethon, “the most learned man of his age,” and Nicholas Chalcocondyles, son of his Athenian friend George, a young man very well versed in Latin and Greek.[195] Nicholas Chalcocondyles can have been none other than the future historian Laonikos Chalcocondyles, for the name Laonikos is merely Nicolaos, Nicholas, slightly changed. During his first stay at Mistra, under the Despot Theodore Palaeologus, in 1437, Cyriacus had visited ancient monuments at Sparta and copied Greek inscriptions.[196]

Constantine XI (1449-53) and the capture of Constantinople.

The territory which recognized the power of the last Byzantine emperor was confined to Constantinople with its nearest environs in Thrace, and the major part of the Peloponnesus or Morea at some distance from the capital, and governed by the Emperor’s brothers.

Honesty, generosity, energy, valor, and love of country were Constantine’s characteristics, vouched for by many Greek sources of his time and by his own conduct during the siege of Constantinople. An Italian humanist, Francesco Filelfo, who during his stay at Constantinople, knew Constantine personally before his ascension to the throne, in one of his letters calls the Emperor a man “of pious and lofty spirit (pio et excelso animo).”[197]

The strong and terrible adversary of Constantine was Muhammed II, twenty-one years old, who combined rude outbursts of harsh cruelty, blood-thirstiness, and many of the baser vices, with an interest in science, art, and education, energy, and the talents of a general, statesman, and organizer. A Byzantine historian relates that he occupied himself enthusiastically with the sciences, especially astrology, read the tales of the deeds of Alexander of Macedon, Julius Caesar, and the emperors of Constantinople, and spoke five languages besides Turkish.[198] Oriental sources praise his piety, justice, clemency, and protection of scholars and poets. Historians of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries vary in their estimation of Muhammed II; they range from denying him all positive qualities[199] to acknowledging him as a man of genius.[200] The desire to conquer Constantinople was an obsession with the young sultan, who, as the historian Ducas said, “by night and day, going to bed and getting up, within his palace and without, turned over and over in his mind the military actions and means by which he might take possession of Constantinople.” He spent sleepless nights drawing on paper the plan of the city and its fortifications, pointing out the places where it could be most easily attacked.[201]

The pictures of both these adversaries survive, those of Constantine Palaeologus on seals and in some later manuscripts,[202] and those of Muhammed II on the medals struck by Italian artists in the fifteenth century in honor of the sultan and in some portraits, particularly one painted by the famous Venetian artist, Gentile Bellini, who spent a short time (in 1479-80) at Constantinople at the end of the reign of Muhammed.[203]

Having decided to deal the final blow to Constantinople, Muhammed set to work with extreme circumspection. First of all, north of the city, on the European shore of the Bosphorus, at its narrowest point, he built a powerful stronghold with towers, the majestic remnants of which are still to be seen (Rumeli-Hisar); the guns placed there hurled stone cannon balls which were enormous for the time.

When the erection of the stronghold on the Bosphorus was known, there came from the Christian population of the capital, Asia, Thrace, and the islands, from all directions, as Ducas said, exclamations of despair. “Now the end of the city has come; now we see the signs of the ruin of our race; now the days of Antichrist are at hand; what is to become of us or what have we to do? … Where are the saints who protect the city?”[204] Another contemporary and eyewitness, who lived through all the horrors of the siege of Constantinople, the author of the precious Journal of the Siege, a Venetian, Nicolò Barbaro, wrote, “This fortification is exceedingly strong from the sea, so that it is absolutely impossible to capture it, for on the shore and walls are; standing bombards in very great number; on the land side the fortification is also strong, though less so than from the sea.”[205] This stronghold put an end to the communication of the capital with the north and the ports of the Black Sea, for all foreign vessels, both on entering and leaving the Bosphorus, were intercepted by the Turks, in case of siege Constantinople would be deprived of the supply of corn from the ports of the Black Sea.

It was very easy for the Turks to carry out these measures, because, opposite the European stronghold, there towered on the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus the fortifications which had been built at the end of the fourteenth century by the Sultan Bayazid (Anatoli-Hisar). Next Muhammed invaded the Greek possessions in Morea, in order to prevent the Despot of Morea from coming to the aid of Constantinople in case of emergency. After these preliminary steps Muhammed, this “pagan enemy of the Christian people,”[206] to quote Barbaro, began the siege of the great city.

Constantine made every possible effort adequately to meet his powerful adversary in the unequal struggle whose result, one may say, was foreordained. The Emperor had all possible corn supplies from the environs of the capital brought into the city and some repairs made on the city walls. The Greek garrison of the city numbered only a few thousands. Seeing the coming fatal danger, Constantine appealed to the West for help; but instead of the desired military support, a Roman cardinal, Greek by origin, Isidore, the former metropolitan of Moscow and participator in the Council of Florence, arrived in Constantinople, and in commemoration of the restored peace between the Eastern and Western churches, celebrated a union service in St. Sophia, which aroused the greatest agitation in the city population. One of the most prominent dignitaries of Byzantium, Lucas Notaras, uttered his famous words, “It is better to see in the city the power of the Turkish turban than that of the Latin tiara.”[207]

The Venetians and Genoese took part in the defense of the capital. Constantine and the population of the city relied especially on a Genoese noble of great military reputation, John (Giovanni) Giustiniani, who arrived in Constantinople with two large vessels bringing seven hundred fighting men. Access to the Golden Horn was barred, as had already happened several times at dangerous moments in the past, by a massive iron chain. The remains of this chain, it was supposed, could be seen until recently in the Byzantine church of St. Irene, where the Ottoman Military-Historical Museum is now established.[208]

The military forces of Muhammed on land and sea which consisted, besides the Turks, of the representatives of different peoples whom he had conquered, largely exceeded the modest number of the defenders of Constantinople, the Greeks and some Latins, particularly Italians.

One of the most important events in all world history was imminent. The very fact of Turkish siege and capture of the “City protected by God,” Constantinople, left a deep mark in the sources, which, in various languages and from different points of view, described the last moments of the Byzantine Empire and allow one to follow, sometimes literally by days and hours, the development of the last act of this thrilling historical drama. The sources which exist are written in Greek, Latin, Italian, Slavonic, and Turkish.

The chief Greek sources vary in their estimation of the event. George Phrantzes, who participated in the siege, an intimate friend of the last Emperor, and a very well-known diplomat, who held high offices in the Empire, was full of boundless love for his Emperor-hero and for the house of the Palaeologi in general, and was opposed to the union of the Churches; he described the last days of Byzantium in order to restore the honor of the vanquished Constantine, his abused country, and the insulted Greek Orthodox faith. Another contemporary writer, the Greek Critobulus, who had passed over to the Turks and wished to prove his devotion to Muhammed II, dedicated his history, which shows strongly the influence of Thucydides, to the “greatest emperor, king of kings, Mehemet”;[209] he related the last days of Byzantium from the point of view of a subject of the new Ottoman Empire, though he did not attack his Greek countrymen. A Greek of Asia Minor, Ducas, a supporter of the union, in which he saw the only means of security for the Empire, wrote from a standpoint favorable to the West, especially stressed the services and merits of the Genoese commander, Giustiniani, rather belittled the role of Constantine, but at the same time wrote not without love and pity for the Greeks. Finally, the fourth Greek historian of the last period of Byzantium, the only Athenian in Byzantine literature, Laonikos Chalcocondyles (or Chalcondyles), choosing as the main topic of his history not Byzantium, but the Turkish Empire, took a new and vast theme to describe — “the extraordinary evolution of the might of the young Ottoman Empire which was rising on the ruins of the Greek, Frankish, and Slavonic states;”[210] in other words, his work is general in character. Since, in addition to that, Laonikos was not an eyewitness of the last days of Constantinople, it has only secondary significance. Among the most valuable sources written in Latin were several by authors who lived through the whole time of the siege at Constantinople. One was the appeal To All the Faithful of Christ (Ad universos Christifideles de expugnatione Constantinopolis) written by Cardinal Isidore, who narrowly escaped Turkish captivity. He begged all Christians to rise up in arms to defend the perishing Christian faith. The report to the pope of the archbishop of Chios, Leonard, who also escaped Turkish captivity, interpreted the great distress which had befallen Byzantium as a punishment for the Greeks’ secession from the Catholic faith.

Finally, a poem in verse, in four stanzas, “Constantinopolis,” was composed by an Italian, Pusculus, who spent some time in Turkish captivity. He was an imitator of Virgil and to a certain extent of Homer. A zealous Catholic, he dedicated his poem to the pope and was, like Leonard, convinced that God had punished Byzantium for its schism.

Italian sources have given us the priceless Journal of the siege of Constantinople, written in the old Venetian dialect in a dry business style, by a noble Venetian, Nicolò Barbaro. He enumerated day by day the conflicts between the Greeks and Turks during the siege, and his work is therefore of the greatest importance for the reconstruction of the chronology of the siege.

In old Russian an important history of the capture of Tsargrad, “this great and terrible deed,” was written by the “unworthy and humble Nestor Iskinder”

(Iskander).[211] Probably a Russian by origin, he fought in the sultan’s army and described truthfully and, as far as possible, day by day, the actions of the Turks during the siege and after the fall of the city. The story of the fall of Constantinople is also related in various Russian chronicles.

Finally, there are Turkish sources estimating the great event from the point of view of triumphant and victorious Islam and its brilliant representative, Muhammed II the Conqueror. Sometimes Turkish sources offer a collection of Turkish popular legends about Constantinople and the Bosphorus.[212]

This enumeration of the chief sources shows what rich and various information exists for the study of the problem of the siege and capture of Constantinople by the Turks.

At the beginning of April, 1453, the siege of the great city began. It was not only the incomparably greater military forces of the Turks that contributed to the success of the siege. Muhammed II, called by Barbaro, “this perfidious Turk, dog-Turk,”[213] was the first sovereign in history who had at his disposal a real park of artillery. The perfected Turkish bronze cannons, of gigantic size for that time, hurled to a great distance enormous stone shots, whose destructive blows the old walls of Constantinople could not resist. The Russian tale of Tsargrad states that “the wretched Muhammed”

conveyed close to the city walls “cannons, arquebuses, towers, ladders, siege machinery, and other wall-battering devices.”[214] The contemporary Greek historian, Critobulus, had a good understanding of the decisive role of artillery when he wrote that all the saps made by the Turks under the walls and their subterraneous passages

“proved to be superfluous and involved only useless expense, as cannons decided everything.”[215]

In the second half of the nineteenth century, in several places of Stamboul, one might still see on the ground the huge cannon shots which had hurtled over the walls and were lying in nearly the same places in which they had fallen in 1453. On April 20

the only piece of good fortune for the Christians in the whole siege took place: the four Genoese vessels which had come to the aid of Constantinople, defeated the Turkish fleet in spite of its far superior numbers. “One may easily imagine,” wrote a recent historian of the siege and capture of the Byzantine capital, Schlumberger, “the indescribable joy of the Greeks and Italians. For a moment Constantinople considered itself saved.”[216] But this success, of course, could have no real importance for the outcome of the siege.

On April 22 the city with the Emperor at its head was struck by an extraordinary and terrifying spectacle: the Turkish vessels were in the upper part of the Golden Horn.

During the preceding night the sultan had succeeded in transporting the vessels from the Bosphorus by land into the Golden Horn; for this purpose a kind of wooden platform had been specially made in the valley between the hills, and the vessels were put on wheels and dragged over the platform by the exertions of a great number of

“canaille,” according to Barbaro,[217] who were at the sultan’s disposal. The Greco-Italian fleet stationed in the Golden Horn beyond the chain was thereafter between two fires. The condition of the city became critical. The plan of the besieged garrison to burn the Turkish vessels in the Golden Horn at night was treacherously revealed to the sultan and prevented.

Meanwhile the heavy bombardment of the city, which did not cease for several weeks, brought the population to the point of complete exhaustion; men, women, children, priests, monks, and nuns were compelled, day and night, under cannon fire, to repair the numerous breaches in the walls. The siege had already lasted for fifty days. The tidings which reached the sultan, perhaps especially invented, of the possible arrival of a Christian fleet to aid the city, induced him to hasten the decisive blow to Constantinople. Imitating the famous orations in the history of Thucydides, Critobulus even gave the speech of Muhammed to the troops appealing to their courage and firmness; in this speech the sultan declared, “There are three conditions for successful war: to want (victory), to be ashamed (of dishonor, defeat), and to obey the leaders.”[218] The assault was fixed for the night of May 29.

The old capital of the Christian East, anticipating the inevitable catastrophe and aware of the coming assault, spent the eve of the great day in prayer and tears. Upon the Emperor’s order, religious processions followed by an enormous multitude of people singing “O Lord, have mercy on us,” passed along the city walls. Men encouraged one another to offer a stubborn resistance to the Turks at the last hour of battle. In his long speech quoted by the Greek historian, Phrantzes,[219] Constantine incited the people to a valorous defense, but he clearly realized their doom when he said that the Turks “are supported by guns, cavalry, infantry, and their numerical superiority, but we rely on the name of the Lord our God and Saviour, and, secondly, on our hands and the strength which has been granted us by the power of God.”[220]

Constantine ended his speech thus: “I persuade and beg your love to accord adequate honor and obedience to your chiefs, everyone according to his rank, his military position, and service. Know this: if you sincerely observe all that I have commanded you, I hope that, with the aid of God, we shall avoid the just punishment sent by God.”[221] In the evening of the same day service was celebrated in St. Sophia, the last Christian ceremony in the famous church. On the basis of Byzantine sources an English historian, E. Pears, gave a striking picture of this ceremony:

The great ceremony of the evening and one that must always stand out among the world’s historic spectacles was the last Christian service held in the church of Holy Wisdom … The emperor and such of the leaders as could be spared were present and the building was once more and for the last time crowded with Christian worshippers.

It requires no great effort of imagination to picture the scene. The interior of the church was the most beautiful which Christian art had produced, and its beauty was enhanced by its still gorgeous fittings. Patriarch and cardinal, the crowd of ecclesiastics representing both the Eastern and Western churches; emperor and nobles, the last remnant of the once gorgeous and brave Byzantine aristocracy; priests and soldiers intermingled; Constantinopolitans, Venetians and Genoese, all were present, all realizing the peril before them, and feeling that in view of the impending danger the rivalries which had occupied them for years were too small to be worthy of thought.

The emperor and his followers partook together of “the undefiled and divine mysteries,” and said farewell to the patriarch. The ceremony was in reality a liturgy of death. The empire was in its agony and it was fitting that the service for its departing spirit should be thus publicly said in its most beautiful church and before its last brave emperor. If the scene so vividly described by Mr. Bryce of the coronation of Charles the Great and the birth of an empire is among the most picturesque in history, that of the last Christian service in St. Sophia is surely among the most tragic.[222]

Phrantzes wrote: “Who will tell of the tears and groans in the palace! Even a man of wood or stone could not help weeping.”[223]

The general assault began on Tuesday night between one and two o’clock of May 28-29. At the given signal, the city was attacked simultaneously on three sides. Two attacks were repulsed. Finally, Muhammed organized very carefully the third and last attack. With particular violence the Turks attacked the walls close to the St. Romanus gate (or Pempton) where the Emperor was fighting. One of the chief defenders of the city, the Genoese Giustiniani, seriously wounded, was forced to abandon the battle; he was transported with difficulty to a vessel which succeeded in leaving the harbor for the Island of Chios. Either there or on the journey there Giustiniani died. His tomb is still preserved in Chios, but the Latin epitaph formerly in the church of S. Dominic in the citadel has apparently disappeared.[224]

The departure and death of Giustiniani was an irreparable loss to the besieged. In the walls more and more new breaches opened. The Emperor fought heroically as a simple soldier and fell in battle. No exact information exists about the death of the last Byzantine Emperor; for this reason his death soon became the subject of a legend which has obscured the historical fact.

After Constantine’s death, the Turks rushed into the city inflicting terrible devastation. A great multitude of Greeks took refuge in St. Sophia, hoping for safety there. But the Turks broke in the entrance gate and poured into the church; they murdered and insulted the Greeks who were hiding there, without distinction of sex or age. The day of the capture of the city, or perhaps the next day, the sultan solemnly entered conquered Constantinople, and went into St. Sophia, where he offered up a Muhammedan prayer. Thereupon Muhammed took up his residence in the imperial palace of Blachernae.

According to the unanimous indication of the sources, the pillage of the city, as Muhammed had promised his soldiers, lasted for three days and three nights. The population was mercilessly murdered. The churches, with St. Sophia at the head, and the monasteries with all their wealth were robbed and polluted; private property was plundered. In these fatal days an innumerable mass of cultural material perished. Books were burnt or torn to pieces, trodden upon or sold for practically nothing. According to the statement of Ducas, an enormous number of books were loaded upon carts and scattered through various countries; a great number of books, the works of Aristotle and Plato, books of theology, and many others, were sold for one gold coin; the gold and silver which adorned the beautifully bound Gospels was torn off, and the Gospels themselves were either sold or thrown away; all the holy images were burnt, and the Turks ate meat boiled on the fire.[225] Nevertheless, some scholars, for example Th.

Uspensky, believe that “the Turks in 1453 acted with more mildness and humanity than the crusaders who had seized Constantinople in 1204.”[226]

A popular Christian tradition relates that at the moment of the appearance of the Turks in St. Sophia the liturgy was being celebrated; when the priest who held the holy sacrament saw the Muslims rush into the church, the altar wall miraculously opened before him and he entered it and disappeared; when Constantinople passes again into the hands of the Christians, the priest will come out from the wall and continue the liturgy.

About sixty years ago the local guides used to show tourists, in one of the remote places of Stamboul, a tomb purporting to be that of the last Byzantine Emperor, over which a simple oil lamp was burning. But of course this nameless tomb is not really that of Constantine; his burial place is unknown. In 1895 E. A. Grosvenor wrote, “Today, in the quarter of Abou Vefa in Stamboul, may be seen a lowly, nameless grave which the humble Greeks revere as that of Constantine. Timid devotion has strewn around it a few rustic ornaments. Candles were kept burning night and day at its side. Till eight years ago it was frequented, though secretly, as a place of prayer. Then the Ottoman Government interposed with severe penalties, and it has since been almost deserted.

All this is but in keeping with the tales which delight the credulous or devout.”[227]

It has usually been said that two days after the fall of Constantinople a western relief fleet arrived in the Archipelago, and learning the tidings of the fall of the city immediately sailed back again. On the basis of some new evidence, at the present time this fact is denied: neither papal vessels nor Genoese nor Aragonese sailed to the East in support of Constantinople.[228]

In 1456 Muhammed conquered Athens from the Franks;[229] shortly after all Greece with the Peloponnesus submitted to him. The ancient Parthenon, in the Middle Ages the church of the Holy Virgin, was, on the sultan’s order, turned into a mosque. In 1461 the far-off Trebizond, capital of the once independent Empire, passed into the hands of the Turks. At the same time they took possession of the remnants of the Despotat of Epirus, The orthodox Byzantine Empire ceased to exist, and on its site the Muhammedan Ottoman (Othman) Empire was established and grew. Its capital was transferred from Hadrianople to Constantinople, which was called by the Turks Istamboul (Stamboul).[230]

Ducas, imitating the “lamentation” of Nicetas Acominatus after the sack of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204, bewailed the event of 1453. He began his lamentation:

O, city, city, head of all cities! O, city, city, center of the four quarters of the world! O, city, city, pride of the Christians and ruin of the barbarians! O, city, city, second paradise planted in the West, including all sorts of plants bending under the burden of spiritual fruits! Where is thy beauty, O, paradise? Where is the blessed strength of spirit and body of thy spiritual Graces? Where are the bodies of the Apostles of my Lord?

Where are the relics of the saints, where are the relics of the martyrs? Where is the corpse of the great Constantine and other Emperors…[231]

Another contemporary, the Polish historian Jan Diugosz, wrote in his History of Poland: This Constantinopolitan defeat, both miserable and deplorable, was the enormous victory of the Turks, the extreme ruin of the Greeks, the infamy of the Latins; through it the Catholic faith was wounded, religion confused, the name of Christ reviled and oppressed. One of the two eyes of Christianity was plucked out; one of the two hands was amputated, since the libraries were burnt down and the doctrines of Greek literature destroyed, without which no one considers himself a learned man.[232]

A far-off Georgian chronicler remarked piously, “On the day when the Turks took Constantinople, the sun was darkened.”[233]

The fall of Constantinople made a terrible impression upon western Europe, which first of all was seized with dismay at the thought of the future advances of the Turks.

Moreover, the ruin of one of the chief centers of Christianity, schismatic though it was from the point of view of the Catholic Church, could not fail to arouse among the faithful of the West anger, horror, and zeal to repair the situation. Popes, sovereigns, bishops, princes, and knights left many epistles and letters portraying the whole horror of the situation and appealing for a crusade against victorious Islam and its representative, Muhammed II, this “precursor of Antichrist and second

Sennacherib.”[234] In many letters the ruin of Constantinople was lamented as that of a center of culture. In his appeal to Pope Nicholas V the western emperor, Frederick III, calling the fall of Constantinople “a general disaster to the Christian faith,” wrote that Constantinople was “a real abode [velut domicilium proprium] of literature and studies of all humanity.”[235] Cardinal Bessarion, mourning the fall of the city, called it “a school of the best arts” (gymnasium optimarum artium).[236] The famous Enea Silvio Piccolomini, the future Pope Pius II, calling to mind numberless books in Byzantium which were still unknown to the Latins, styled the Turkish conquest of the city the second death of Homer and Plato.[237] Some writers named the Turks Teucrians (Teucri), considering them the descendants of the old Trojans, and warned Europe of the sultan’s plans to attack Italy, which allured him “by its wealth and by the tombs of his Trojan ancestors.”[238] On one hand, various epistles of the fifth decade of the fifteenth century said that “the Sultan, like Julian the Apostate, will be finally forced to recognize the victory of Christ”; that Christianity, doubtless, is strong enough to have no fear of the Turks; that “a strong expedition” [valida expeditio] will be ready and the Christians will be able to defeat the Turks and “drive them out of Europe” (fugare extra Europam). But, on the other hand, some epistles anticipated the great difficulties in the coming struggle with the Turks and the chief cause of these difficulties — the discord among the Christians themselves, “a spectacle which inspires the Sultan with courage.”[239] Enea Silvio Piccolomini gave in one of his letters an excellent and true picture of the Christian interrelations in the West at that time. He wrote: I do not hope for what I want. Christianity has no longer a head: neither Pope nor Emperor is adequately esteemed or obeyed; they are treated as fictitious names and painted figures. Each city has a king of its own; there are as many princes as houses.

How might one persuade the numberless Christian rulers to take up arms? Look upon Christianity! Italy, you say, is pacified. I do not know to what extent. The remains of war still exist between the King of Aragon and the Genoese. The Genoese will not fight the Turks: they are said to pay tribute to them! The Venetians have made a treaty with the Turks. If the Italians do not take part, we cannot hope for maritime war. In Spain, as you know, there are many kings of different power, different policy, different will, and different ideas; but these sovereigns who live in the far West can not be attracted to the East, especially when they are fighting with the Moors of Granada. The King of France has expelled his enemy from his kingdom; but he is still in trouble, and will not dare to send his knights beyond the borders of his kingdom for fear of a sudden landing of the English. As far as the English are concerned, they think only of taking revenge for their expulsion from France. Scotch, Danes, Swedes, and Norwegians, who live at the end of the world, seek nothing beyond their countries. The Germans are greatly divided and have nothing to unify them.”[240]

Neither the appeals of popes and sovereigns, nor the lofty impulse of individuals and groups, nor the consciousness of common danger before the Ottoman menace could weld disunited western Europe for the struggle with Islam. The Turks continued to advance, and at the end of the seventeenth century they threatened Vienna. That was the climax of the might of the Ottoman Empire. They were turned back from Europe, but Constantinople, it is well known, even today is in the hands of the Turks.

Ecclesiastical problems under the Palaeologi.

The ecclesiastical history of the time of the Palaeologi is extremely interesting both from the point of view of the relations between the Greek Eastern church and the papal throne, and from the point of view of the religious movements in the internal life of the Empire. The relations with Rome, which took the form of attempts to achieve union with the Catholic church, were, except the Union of Lyons, closely connected with the ever-growing Turkish danger, for in the opinion of the Byzantine Emperor this danger could be prevented only by the intervention of the pope and the western European sovereigns. The readiness of the pope to favor the proposition of the eastern monarch very often depended upon international conditions in the West.

The Union of Lyons.

The popes of the second half of the thirteenth century, in their eastern policy wished no repetition of the Fourth Crusade, which had failed to solve the extremely important problem of the Greek schism, and merely had served to postpone the other important question of a crusade to the Holy Land. Now it seemed desirable to the popes to achieve a peaceful union with the Greeks, which would put an end to the old schism and give grounds to hope for the liberation of Jerusalem. The recapture of Constantinople by the Greeks in 1261 was a heavy blow to the pope. Papal appeals to save what the Latins had accomplished in the East were sent to many sovereigns. But the papal attitude depended upon affairs in Italy: the popes, for example, did not wish to act with the Hohenstaufen Manfred, whom they hated. Yet when Manfred’s power in southern Italy was destroyed by Charles of Anjou, though the latter had been invited by the pope, his aggressive policy against Byzantium found no favor with the papacy. The popes realized that the power of Charles, increased by the conquest of Byzantium, would be hardly less dangerous to the world position of the papacy than the Hohenstaufen sway in Byzantium. It is interesting to note that the first union at Lyons under Michael Palaeologus was achieved not under the pressure of the eastern Turkish danger, but under the menace of the aggressive policy of Charles of Anjou.

Since the Comneni, the attitude of the eastern Emperor towards the union had greatly changed. Under the Comneni, especially in the epoch of Manuel, the emperor had sought for union not only under pressure of the external Turkish danger but also in the hope, already merely an illusion, that with the aid of the pope he might gain supreme power over the West, i.e. restore the former Roman Empire. This aspiration clashed with the similar aspiration of the popes to attain supreme temporal power over the West, so that no union took place. The first Palaeologus, in his negotiations for union, had much more modest pretensions. He had in mind not the expansion of the Byzantine Empire in the West, but its defense, with the help of the pope, against the West in the person of the powerful and menacing Charles of Anjou. The papal curia met his proposals favorably, realizing that the ecclesiastical submission of Byzantium to Rome would bring about a political submission also even if the Sicilian danger were averted. But the possibility of such an increase of the temporal power of the pope met with definite resistance from western European rulers. In his turn, on his way to the reconciliation with the Roman church, the eastern Emperor met with stubborn opposition among the Greek clergy who, in an overwhelming majority, remained faithful to Greek Orthodoxy. The historian Norden said that Pope Gregory X

“influenced the King of Sicily with spiritual reasons, Palaeologus his prelates with political arguments.”[241]

One of the prominent representatives of the Greek church, the future patriarch John Beccus (Veccus), “a wise man, master of eloquence and science,”[242] according to Gregoras, had been opposed to union and was therefore imprisoned. During his confinement he became a partisan of the union and an active supporter of the Emperor in his project of reconciliation with Rome, an event of great importance for Michael’s aim.

The council was held in 1274 in the French city of Lyons. Michael sent a solemn embassy headed by the former patriarch Germanus and the historian George Acropolitas, the grand logothete and the Emperor’s friend. It was intended that Thomas Aquinas, the most famous representative of medieval Catholic scholarship, should take the leading part at the council on behalf of Rome, but he died on his way to Lyons. His place was taken by the no less brilliant Cardinal Bonaventura. A Mongol bishop also attended the council.[243] The author of the Vita of Saint Bonaventura, Petrus Galesinius (Pietro Galesino) in the sixteenth century, and some other writers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries asserted that at the invitation of the pope Emperor Michael Palaeologus himself went to Lyons to attend the council. But this error was caught and refuted by Leo Allatius in the seventeenth century.[244]

The Union of Lyons was achieved on condition that the Emperor should recognize filioque, azyme (unleavened bread), and the supreme authority of the pope; to all these stipulations, in the name of Michael, George Acropolitas took oath.[245] Michael also expressed to the pope his readiness to support by troops, money, and provisions the proposed joint crusade for the liberation of the Holy Land, but he stipulated that peace be established with Charles of Anjou so that the Emperor, in diverting all his forces to the East, need not fear attack from the West.[246]

Neither side was pleased with the results of the union. As was to be expected, Michael met with stubborn resistance among the great majority of the Greek clergy. An antiunion council against Michael Palaeologus and John Beccus was held in Thessaly.[247] Moreover, the idea of a crusade could not be agreeable to the Emperor, who was unable to forget the warning of the Fourth Crusade. There was the additional difficulty that Michael Palaeologus was on good terms with the sultan of Egypt, the sworn enemy of the Latins of Syria.

From 1274 to 1280, five papal embassies came to Constantinople in order to confirm the union. But in 1281 the new pope, the Frenchman Martin IV, whom Charles of Anjou set upon the papal throne, broke the union and gave entire support to Charles’

aggressive plans against Byzantium. But Michael regarded himself as formally bound by the Union of Lyons to the day of his death.

The Arsenites.

Besides the question of union Byzantium was agitated during the reign of Michael by the struggle of religious-political parties, the most nmportant of which was concerned with the so-called Arsenites.

Beginning with the twelfth century, there were two irreconcilably opposing parties in the Byzantine church which were struggling for influence and power in ecclesiastical administration. One of those parties is called in Byzantine sources the “zealots”

(ζηλωται), the other the “politicians” (πολιτικοι) or moderates;[249] church historian A. Lebedev styled this party “by the modern French parliamentary term of opportunists.”[250]

The zealots, champions of the freedom and independence of the church, were opposed to state interference in church affairs, a point of view which brought them into continual collision with the emperor. In this respect the zealots’ ideas resembled those of the famous Theodore of Studion who in the ninth century openly spoke and wrote against imperial interference with church affairs. The zealots would not make any concession to the imperial power; they wished to submit the Emperor to severe ecclesiastical discipline, and were fearless of any collision with the government or society that might arise from their ideas. Accordingly, they became involved at various times in political troubles and disorders and gained the reputation of a party political as well as ecclesiastical. They could not boast of much education and took no care to have an educated clergy, but they faithfully observed the rules of strict morality and austerity. In the struggle with their opponents they were often supported by the monks, and in the moments of their triumph they opened to the monks the way to power and activity. A historian of that time, Gregoras, noted that one patriarch “could not even read correctly.”[251] Describing the spirit prevailing among the monks when a zealot became patriarch the same historian wrote: “It seemed to these malignant monks that after storm and troubles calm had come, and after winter, spring.”[252]

Strict supporters of Orthodoxy, the zealots were stubbornly opposed to Michael’s inclination to the union, and they had great influence with the mass of the people.

The politicians or moderates were directly opposed to the zealots. They stood for state support of the church and co-operation between church and state; accordingly they did not object to the exerting of state influence on the church. They believed that a strong temporal power unrestrained by external interference was essential for the well-being of a nation; therefore they were ready to make considerable concessions to the imperial power. They followed the so-called theory of “economy,” which stated that the church in its relation to the state should accommodate itself to circumstances; to justify the theory of economy the politicians usually referred to the life of the Apostles and the Holy Fathers. Recognizing the importance of education, they tried to fill the ecclesiastical offices with cultured and educated men. As they interpreted the rules of strict morality rather liberally and lacked sympathy with severe asceticism, the politicians sought support not among the monks, but among the secular clergy and the educated classes of society.

Naturally, the activities of both parties greatly differed. The Russian church historian A. Lebedev, said: “When the politicians were acting on the church stage, they put their theories into effect smoothly and with comparative peace; on the contrary, when the zealots had the reins of government, relying upon so changeable an element in Byzantium as the monks and, to some degree, the mob, they always acted noisily, often stormily, and sometimes even seditiously.”[253] The majority of the politicians were in favor of the Union of Lyons, giving their support to the religious policy of Michael Palaeologus.

The struggles between the zealots and politicians, the origin of which some scholars trace back to the epoch of iconoclasm and the disputes between the Ignatians and Photians in the ninth century, were felt, of course, by the people and aroused great agitation. Sometimes matters came to such a pass that one house and one family held representatives of both parties; a historian of that time said; “The church schism has reached such a point that it separates the dwellers of one house: father is opposed to son, mother to daughter, sister-in-law to mother-in-law.”[254]

Under Michael Palaeologus the zealots, or, as they were sometimes called at the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth century, the Arsenites, displayed intensive activity. The word Arsentte comes from the name of Patriarch Arsenius, who twice mounted the patriarchal throne, the first time at Nicaea, the second time at Constantinople after the restoration of the Empire. A man of little scholarship, Arsenius was chosen patriarch by the Emperor of Nicaea, Theodore II Lascaris, who hoped that Arsenius, exalted beyond his merits, would be a mere tool in the Emperor’s hands. But Theodore’s expectations were not fulfilled. The administration of Arsenius was marked by severe collisions with the Emperor and led to the formation first of the party and then of the schism of the “Arsenites,” which agitated the Greek church for several decades. Arsenius did not hesitate to excommunicate Michael Palaeologus, who, contrary to his oath, had dethroned and blinded the unfortunate John IV Lascaris, the last Emperor of Nicaea. The infuriated Emperor deposed Arsenius and sent him into exile, where he died. Arsenius considered his deposition and the ordination of the new patriarchs of Constantinople misdeeds which were bringing about the ruin of the church. Arsenius’ ideas roused the people and found not a few partisans among both clergy and laymen. The result was the formation of the schism of the “Arsenites,” who chose as their motto a sentence of the Apostle Paul: “Touch not … handle not” (Coloss.

2:21), i.e. touch not those whom Arsenius has condemned. Eager guardians of Eastern Orthodoxy, the Arsenites are distinguished from the zealots only by their position in regard to the Patriarch Arsenius.

The Arsenites gained strong support from the people, among whom they sent secret agents, pilgrims and vagrants, called by the populace “godly men” and by a historian, Pachymeres, “wearers of sackcloth” (σακκοφοροι),[255] who made their way into many families and sowed there the seeds of schism. A Russian church historian, J.

E. Troizky, described the situation as follows:

There was in the Byzantine Empire a force, dark and unrecognized. It was a strange force. It had no name, and revealed itself only in moments of emergency. It was complicated, intricate, and of doubtful origin and character. It consisted of the most manifold elements. Its members were beggars, “wearers of sackcloth,” pilgrims simpletons, obscure wanderers, madmen, and other disreputable people — men of unknown origin, without settled homes. For various reasons they were joined by disgraced dignitaries, deposed bishops, interdicted priests, monks expelled from their monasteries, and sometimes even by dishonored members of the imperial family. The spirit of this party was determined by its origin and composition. Created by abnormal social conditions, it offered a secret opposition, in general passive but effective, to these conditions and to the power responsible for them, that is, the imperial power.

This opposition was usually expressed by spreading rumors which more or less compromised persons in government authority. This force seldom ventured openly to provoke political punishment, but it often seriously affected the government, whose fear was the greater, because, on the one hand, the secret activity was very difficult to trace, and, on the other hand, it had a great effect on the social organization. The people, miserable, depressed, and ignorant, and therefore credulous and superstitious, constantly persecuted both by external enemies and state officials, burdened with exorbitant taxes, and crushed under the pressure of the privileged classes and foreign merchant monopolists — the people were very easily influenced by the insinuations coming from the out-of-the-way places where lived the representatives of the secret force. This was the more true because the force, formed from the people and subject to the conditions under which they lived, had the secret of playing upon their feelings at the decisive moment. The populace of the capital itself was particularly affected by these insinuations … This force in its opposition to the government used different slogans; but its opposition was particularly dangerous to the head of the state, when upon its banner was exhibited the magic word “Orthodoxy.”[256]

Under Michael Palaeologus the partisans of the blinded ex-Emperor John Lascaris joined the Arsenites.

The government of Michael Palaeologus resorted to measures of compulsion and severity and the Arsenites were forced to flee from the capital, where their activity had been almost exclusively concentrated. The provinces were now open to their propaganda, and the provincial population, in huge crowds, thronged to listen to their inflammatory speeches condemning the Emperor and exalting the deposed patriarch.

Arsenius’ death failed to put an end to the schism, and the struggle continued. As J.

Troizky said, the struggle of the parties under Michael, “by its feverish animation and unscrupulousness, reminds us of the stormiest times of the heresy struggles in the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries.”[257]

The Union of Lyons changed in many respects the position of the Arsenite party.

The question of union presented a broader interest, for it touched the main foundation of the Greek church — Orthodoxy. The Arsenites with their narrow interests and biased speculations were pushed temporarily into the background; the attention of the government and people was turned almost exclusively to the problem of the union.

This fact explains the almost complete silence of the sources upon the activity of the Arsenites from the time of the Union of Lyons to the death of Michael VIII. There is a rather hazy indication that in 1278 an Arsenite council was held in Thessaly or Epirus; its chief aim was to secure the triumph of the Arsenite cause and to glorify Arsenius’

memory.[258]

Feeling this stubborn opposition, open and secret, to his plans for union, Michael behaved with great cruelty in the last years of his reign.

His successor and son Andronicus II inherited from his father two difficult problems in the ecclesiastical life of the Empire: the union, and the strife between the Arsenites and the official church. First of all, the new Emperor solemnly renounced the union and restored Orthodoxy. A historian of that time wrote: “Envoys were sent everywhere carrying the imperial decrees which announced the settlement of the church disorders, free return to all those who had been exiled for their zeal in church affairs, and an amnesty to those who had suffered in any other way.”[259] The carrying out of this measure presented no great difficulties, because the great majority of the Eastern clergy and population was opposed to the union with the Roman church. The Union of Lyons lasted formally for eight years (1274-82).

The abolition of the union meant the triumph of the ideas of the zealots and Arsenites, who were the convinced enemies of union, the “uniates,” and of everything Latin. But the Arsenites were not satisfied. They took part on the side of Lascaris in a political plot against the Emperor, hoping, in the case of success, to obtain exclusive influence in the state. But the conspiracy was disclosed in time and put down; thereafter the Arsenite schism gradually disappeared and did not survive Andronicus the Elder, who, in spite of many troubles from the Arsenites, finally consented to their solemn reconciliation with the church. After the reconciliation, a few of the schismatic Arsenites “seceded from the agreement and began to live apart in schism again;”[260]

but J. Troizky, said this was “the last convulsion before the death of the out-of-date movement, which at that time found no support anywhere, and soon disappeared, leaving no trace, along with its last followers, giving place to new civil and ecclesiastical troubles.”[261]

Towards the end of the thirteenth century, in connection with the abolition of the union and triumph of the Orthodox policy, the party of the zealots, who placed their reliance upon the monks and monastic ideals, increased in power. In the fourteenth century they showed vigorous activity not limited to church problems, but extended to politics and social movements. For example, the zealots took an active part in the troubles of Thessalonica in the fourteenth century, pursuing some political aims which have not yet been satisfactorily elucidated, and they sided with Emperor John V

Palaeologus against Cantacuzene; for this reason Iorga called the zealots “legitimists.”

An interesting attempt to expound the political ideology of the zealots, on the basis of an unpublished oration of the famous Byzantine mystic Nicholas Cabasilas has been recently made by the Roumanian scholar Tafrali.[263]

In the first half of the fourteenth century the zealots and monks gradually got the upper hand of the secular clergy. This movement ended in the complete triumph of the Athenian monks over the patriarchate of Constantinople in the epoch of the so-called Hesychast controversies. This period saw the last patriarch elected from the state officials and the last patriarch elected from the secular clergy. “From this time on the highest posts in the hierarchy are exclusively occupied by monks, and the patriarchal throne of Constantinople becomes for a long time the property of the representatives of Mt. Athos.”[264]

Under Andronicus II the Elder an important change in the administration of Athos took place. At the end of the eleventh century Alexius Comnenus had freed Athos from submission to any outside ecclesiastical or civil power and placed the monasteries of Athos under the control of the Emperor alone. He ordained the protos, that is to say, the head of the council of abbots (igumens), to whom the administration of the monasteries was entrusted. Andronicus the Elder renounced direct power over Mount Athos and handed the monasteries over to the patriarch of Constantinople, who was to ordain the protos. In the imperial charter (chrysobull) granted on this occasion, the protos of Mount Athos, this “second paradise or starry heaven or refuge of all virtues,”

was to be “under the great spiritual power of the Patriarch.”[265]

With the name of Andronicus the Elder is connected the last important reform of the ecclesiastical organization in the history of Byzantium, a new distribution of the eparchies in accordance with the reduced territory of the Empire. In spite of some changes under the Comneni and Angeli, the distribution of the eparchies and episcopal sees at the end of the thirteenth century corresponded nominally to the distribution usually ascribed to Leo the Wise in about 900. But in the thirteenth century circumstances completely changed. The territory of the Empire was reduced: Asia Minor was almost entirely lost; in Europe, the Slavonic and Latin states occupied the major part of the land which had belonged before to the Empire. Nevertheless “the list of the metropoles submitted to the Apostolic and Patriarchal throne of the city protected by God, Constantinople,”[266] which was drawn up under Andronicus the Elder, entirely disregards the modest extent of the territory of the Empire: the list enumerates a long line of cities in foreign regions and lands, which in ecclesiastical respects were subject to the patriarch of Constantinople. Of the more distant points indicated in this list one may notice several metropoles in the Caucasian regions, in the Crimea, Russia, Galich, and Lithuania. The distribution of the metropoles under Andronicus the Elder is also important, because with some changes which were introduced later, it is still in force in Constantinople. “The list at present in force of the metropoles of the Oecumenical throne,” wrote a Russian specialist in the field of the Christian East, J. Sokolov, “goes back to ancient times and in one part is a direct and undoubted continuation from the Byzantine epoch.”[267]

The Hesychast movement.

In the first half of the fourteenth century the interesting Hesychast movement, mystical and religious, made its appearance in Byzantium and gave rise to eager controversies and vigorous polemic. Hesychasts (ησυχασται), i.e. “those who live in quiet,” or quietists, was the name given to the men whose goal was indivisible and full unity with God, and who chose as the only way to its attainment complete seclusion from the world, hesychia (ησυχια) which meant “silence, speechlessness.”

The quarrel of the Hesychasts, which greatly disturbed the inner life of the state, originated in the troubled and complicated period when the Empire was struggling for its existence, first against invasion by the Turks and later the Serbs, and second, against severe internal troubles arising from the stubborn conflict of the two Andronicoi, grandfather and grandson, and of John Palaeologus and John Cantacuzene. Only a short time had elapsed since the schism of the Arsenites, which had greatly disturbed church and state affairs.

A Greek monk, Barlaam, who arrived from south Italy (Calabria), began the quarrel.

He distorted and ridiculed the Hesychast doctrine prevalent chiefly in the Athenian monasteries, which was communicated erroneously to him by an uneducated

Byzantine monk. A report presented to the patriarch contains these lines: “Until the most recent time we had lived in peace and stillness, receiving the word of faith and piety with confidence and cordial simplicity, when, through the envy of the devil and insolence of his own mind a certain Barlaam was raised against the Hesychasts who, in the simplicity of their heart, live a life pure and near to God.”[268] Athos, which had always been the guardian of the purity of Eastern Orthodoxy and monastic ideals, was painfully affected by this quarrel and, of course, took a leading part in its development and solution.

Scholars consider this quarrel a very important event of the fourteenth century.

The German Byzantinist Gelzer rather exaggerated when he said this ecclesiastical struggle “belongs to the most remarkable and, in its cultural and historical aspect, the most interesting phenomena of all times.”[269] Another scholar, the more recent investigator of the problem, a Greek who received his education in Russia, Papamichael, considered the Hesychast movement the most important cultural phenomenon of the epoch, deserving attentive study.[270] Scholars vary greatly concerning the inner conception of the Hesychast movement. Troizky saw in this movement the

continuation of the struggle between the zealots and the politicians,[271] or, in other words, the monks and the secular clergy, a struggle which, during the Hesychast quarrel, ended in complete triumph for the monks. Th. Uspensky came to the conclusion that the Hesychast quarrel was a conflict between two philosophical schools, the Aristotelian, whose doctrines had been adopted by the Eastern church, and the Platonic, whose followers were anathematized by the Church. Later the conflict was transferred into the theological sphere. The historical significance of the chief spokesmen for the Hesychast doctrine comes from the fact that they were not only the spokesmen for the Greek national ideas in the struggle with the West, but, still more important, stood at the head of the monastic movement and had the support of Athos and the monasteries in the Balkan peninsula which depended upon the Holy Mountain.[272] A more recent investigator of this problem, Papamichael, whose book came out in 1911, did not deny that the struggle of the monks (the party of the zealots) with the politicians, and some philosophical speculation, were secondary factors in the movement: but he believed that the correct interpretation of the Hesychast quarrel lies primarily in the purely religious domain. On the one hand it is found in that intense mysticism prevalent at that time, not only in the West but also in the East, especially in Athos; on the other hand, in the attempt of the western Greek monk Barlaam to Latinize the Orthodox Byzantine East, by rationalistic and sarcastic attacks, which shook monastic authority in Byzantium.[273]

Barlaam’s Latin proselyting is not yet satisfactorily proved. Putting that aside, the Hesychast movement, though primarily religious, became still more interesting in connection with the prevailing mysticism in western and eastern Europe, and with some cultural phenomena of the epoch of the Italian renaissance. The study of this aspect of the Hesychast movement belongs to the future.

The most prominent of the Hesychasts in the fourteenth century and the man who best reduced to a system the doctrine of hesychia was the archbishop of Thessalonica, Gregorius Palamas, a well-educated man and an able writer, a sworn adversary of Barlaam and the head of the party of the Palamites, named from him. At the same time many other Hesychasts were explaining and interpreting the doctrine of hesychia, especially a Byzantine mystic, unfortunately very little known, Nicholas Cabasilas, whose ideas and works deserve careful study.

According to the above-mentioned work of Papamichael and its exposition by J.

Sokolov, the Hesychasts devote themselves entirely to the knowledge and

contemplation of God, and the attainment of unity with Him, and concentrate all their strength for this purpose. They retire “from the whole world and all that reminds them of the world,” and isolate themselves “by means of the concentration and gathering of the mind in themselves.” To attain this concentration the Hesychast has to detach himself from all imagination, all conceptions, all thoughts, and free his mind from all knowledge, in order to be able freely, by an absolute independent flight, to merge easily into the truly mystic darkness of ignorance. The highest, most sincere, and most perfect prayer of the perfect Hesychasts is an immediate intercourse with God, in which there exist no thoughts, ideas, images of the present or recollection of the past.

This is the highest contemplation—the contemplation of God one and alone, the perfect ecstasy of mind and withdrawal from matter. No thought is more perfect or higher than such a prayer. It is a state of ecstasy, a mystic unity with God, deification (apotheosis; η θεοσις). In this state the mind wholly transcends the limits of matter, frees itself from all thought, requires a complete insensibility to outward impressions and becomes deaf and mute. Not only is the Hesychast entirely cut off from outward impressions, but he also transcends his individuality and loses consciousness of himself, being wholly absorbed in the contemplation of God. Therefore he who has reached ecstasy no longer lives a personal and individual life; his spiritual and corporeal life stops, his mind remains immovable, attached to the object of contemplation. Thus, the basis and center of hesychia is the love of God from soul, heart, and mind, and the desire for divine contemplation through the abnegation of everything, however small and remote, which might recall the world and its contents.

The goal of the Hesychasts is attained by absolute isolation and silence, by “the care of the heart” and mortification of the mind, continuous penitence, abundant tears, the memory of God and death, and the constant repetition of an “inner” prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me; oh, Son of God, help me.” The consequence of this prayerful spirit is a blissful humility. Later the doctrine of the sacred hesychia was more systematized, especially among the Athenian monks, where the way to attaining the more perfect “hesychia” was divided into several categories and composed of definite “schemes” and “ladders,” in one of which, for example, are “the four deeds of the speechless:” the beginners, progressives, successful, and perfect. Very few became perfect, i.e. attained the highest degree of hesychia, “contemplation.” The majority of ascetics reached only the first degrees.[274]

The leader of the Hesychast movement was the archbishop of Thessalonica

Gregorius Palamas. Under the protection of Andronicus II, he had received a broad and many-sided education at Constantinople, and he had been inclined from his youth to the study of the problems of monastic life. At twenty he took the monastic habit on Mount Athos. Then, dwelling in Athos, Thessalonica, and some isolated places in Macedonia, he excelled all his fellows on the Holy Mountain in ascetism and devoted all his strength to endeavoring to reach “contemplation.” He worked out a definition of his own of the so-called “contemplation” (θεορια), and proceeded to devote his literary talents to the interpretation of his ascetic ideas. His intention to withdraw into complete solitude in order to devote himself wholly to the “inner” prayer was defeated by the outbreak on Athos of the troubles aroused by Barlaam.

The plans with which Barlaam came to Byzantium have not yet been satisfactorily elucidated. He inspired there such confidence that he was appointed igumen (abbot) of a monastery at Constantinople. Defeated in a discussion with an eminent Byzantine scholar, Nicephorus Gregoras, Barlaam fled to Thessalonica and thence to Athos. There through an ignorant monk he became acquainted with the doctrine of hesychia. He accused the Hesychasts who attained the highest degree of perfection “of seeing with their corporeal eyes, the divine and uncreated light shining around them”; thus, the monks destroy the dogmas of the church, if they affirm that they see the divine light with their corporeal eyes, for thereby they declare the divine blessing created and the divine being apprehensible.

The literary dispute which arose on this point between Palamas and Barlaam and created the parties of the Palamites and Barlaamites, had no definite result. The matter was transferred to Constantinople, where it was decided to convoke a council. The council was to deal with the problem of the nature of the light of Thabor, that is to say, of the light which had shone on Christ and which His disciples had seen on the mountain of Thabor during the Transfiguration. Was that light created or uncreated? In the doctrine of Palamas, the light or shining which the perfect Hesychasts were deemed worthy to attain was in truth a light identical with the light of Thabor; the divine light was uncreated, and the light of Thabor was also uncreated.

At the council summoned in the church of St. Sophia, Palamas gained the upper hand of Barlaam, who was forced publicly to express repentance for his error. However, the sources on that council are rather contradictory, and Th. Uspensky, for example, was inclined to be doubtful about whether, as a result of the council, Barlaam was condemned or pardoned. In any case, Palamas was dissatisfied with the decision of the council.[275]

Church troubles continued, debatable questions were discussed at other councils, and the representatives of the church were entangled in the political complications of the strife between John Palaeologus and John Cantacuzene. Palamas lived an agitated life; for a time he was even confined in prison by the patriarch for his religious ideas. At this time he met with an active opponent in Nicephorus Gregoras, who had formerly acted with such energy against Barlaam and then gone over to the side of the reconciliation with Rome. Finally Palamas’ cause triumphed, and his doctrine was recognized by the council as the true doctrine of the whole Orthodox church. The decree of the council listing “Barlaam’s blasphemies” proclaimed that “he has been cut off from intercourse with Christians as much for his numerous faults as for the fact that he called the light of the Transfiguration of the Lord, which appeared to His blessed disciples, who ascended the mountain with Him created and describable and differing in nothing from the light perceived by the sense.”[276] But the struggle and many misfortunes of Palamas had undermined his strength, and after a severe illness he died in 1360. On a beautiful miniature in a manuscript containing John Cantacuzene’s works in the National Library of Paris, John Cantacuzene is portrayed seated upon the throne at the council solving the problem of the nature of the light of Thabor.

The Hesychast quarrel of the middle of the fourteenth century resulted in a decisive victory for strict Orthodoxy in general and for the monastic ideals of Athos in particular. The monks dominated both the church and the state. The dead body of Palamas’ chief opponent, Nicephorus Gregoras, was exposed to insults and dragged along the streets of the city, according to another opponent, John Cyparissiotes surnamed “the Wise.”[277] At this moment, according to L. Bréhier, a dark future was beginning for the Empire.[278] But the German Byzantinist Gelzer drew a rather idyllic picture of the life of the Athenian monks of the period. He wrote:

The Holy Mountain proved to be the Zion of the true faith. In the horrible crisis of the death of the whole nation, when the Ottomans were mercilessly treading down the Roman people, Athos became a refuge, whose stillness was sought by broken souls, and many strong hearts, which had been led astray in their earthly life, preferred in isolation from the world to live through their moral strife in union with God. In those sad times monastic life offered the unfortunate nation the only permanent and real consolation.[279]

The role of the Hesychasts in the political struggle of their epoch has not yet been clearly determined, but the leaders of the political parties, such as Palaeologus and Cantacuzene, realized plainly the significance and strength of the Hesychasts and turned to them more than once for help in purely secular problems. But the threatening political situation, such as the ever present Turkish danger, for instance, compelled the Emperors — even those who sought for the support of the Hesychasts —

to deviate from the strict Orthodoxy of the triumphant Palamas and his partisans, and seek for reconciliation with the Roman church, which, in the opinion of the Eastern emperors, alone could rouse western Europe to defend Christianity. This leaning to the West grew particularly strong, when, after Cantacuzene’s deposition, there established himself on the throne John V Palaeologus, half-Latin on his mother’s side, who himself became Catholic.

The conversion to Catholicism of Emperor John V.

Towards the seventh decade of the fourteenth century the Turks were the masters of Asia Minor and the peninsula of Gallipoli in Europe, and were beginning to advance through the Balkan peninsula and threatening to encircle Constantinople. John V

Palaeologus put all his trust in the pope.

The fourteenth century was the epoch of the so-called “Babylonian Captivity;”

from 1305 to 1378 the seven popes consecutively occupying the throne of St. Peter had a more or less permanent residence on the Rhone, at Avignon, and were practically dependent on the French kings. The papal appeals to the western rulers for aid against the Turks were fruitless or brought about only small expeditions, sometimes temporarily successful, but of no permanent help. There was no longer any crusading enthusiasm in the West. Also, in the opinion of the west Europeans of that time, the schismatic Greeks were more repulsive than the Muslim Turks. Petrarca wrote: “The Turks are enemies, but the Greeks are schismatics and worse than enemies.”[280]

In 1367 Pope Urban V decided to move from Avignon to Rome. On his way to the Eternal City he was met by Byzantine envoys who notified him that the Emperor was anxious to adopt Catholicism and for this purpose was ready to come to Rome. John V

arrived in Rome by sea, via Naples.[281] That John in his decision to adopt Catholicism had no support from the Byzantine Church is clear from the fact that among the high officials who accompanied him to Rome there was not a single representative of the Byzantine clergy. In October 1369, in Rome, he solemnly read aloud his confession of faith in full accordance with the dogmas of the Roman Catholic church. In the temple of St. Peter the pope celebrated a solemn service during which John V once more read the confession of faith and confirmed again the dogma that the Holy Spirit proceeded from the Father and Son, and that the pope was the head of all Christians. On the same day the Emperor dined with the pope; all the cardinals were invited to the table. Through Naples and Venice, the Emperor returned to Constantinople. His stay at Venice ended in humiliation. He was arrested by the Venetians as an insolvent debtor and released only when his noble and energetic son, the future Emperor Manuel, came in person to Venice and redeemed his father. Shortly after the Emperor’s departure, Pope Urban V

returned to Avignon.

In his encyclical letter the pope expressed his joy at John’s return to the Catholic faith and abjuration of the schism, and declared his hope that this example would be imitated by “the numberless peoples who followed the schism and the errors of the Greeks.” At the same time, however, the patriarch of Constantinople Philotheus, sent messages not only to the population of the Empire but also to the Orthodox Christians beyond its confines, in Syria, in Egypt, in the South-Slavonic countries, and in far-off Russia, urging them to be constant to the Orthodox faith. There was to be a stubborn resistance to John’s religious policy. His conversion in Rome had no real results, and he could receive from the pope nothing but attention, presents, and promises. Despite the papal appeals, western Europe sent no help against the Turks. John’s conversion, so solemnly proclaimed, was merely a personal affair; the overwhelming majority of the population of the Empire remained faithful to the Eastern Orthodox church.[282]

Nevertheless this journey of the Emperor is of interest as an episode in the history of cultural intercourse between Byzantium and western Europe in the epoch of the Renaissance.

The Union of Florence.

The most celebrated church union was the Union of Florence in 1439. At this time the political atmosphere in the Christian East was much more critical than at the time of John’s conversion. The sack of Serbia and Bulgaria by the Turks, the defeat of the crusaders at Nicopolis, the fruitless journey of Manuel II through western Europe, and finally the conquest of Thessalonica by the Turks in 1430, had put the Eastern Empire in a situation too critical to be saved by the Mongol defeat of the Turks at Angora. The Turkish successes were already a serious menace to Europe also; this was the reason why at the Council of Florence the necessity of a common Latin-Greek struggle against the Turks was so strongly felt. But in spite of the desperate situation, the Orthodox nationalistic party in Byzantium opposed the idea of union, not only from the fear of losing the purity of Greek Orthodoxy, but also from the feeling that western aid bought by the price of union would result in the political supremacy of the West over the East: in other words, the impending domination of the Turks might be replaced by that of the Latins. At the beginning of the fifteenth century, a Byzantine polemist, Joseph Bryennius, wrote; “Let no one be deceived by delusive hopes that the Italian allied troops will sooner or later come to us. But if they do pretend to rise to defend us, they will take arms in order to destroy our city, race, and name.”[283] In the fifteenth century, this apprehension was justified by the political plans of Alfonso the Magnanimous against the East.

About the same time in the West, after the Councils of Pisa and Constance, there was convoked the third great council of the fifteenth century, the Council of Basel, which announced as its program the reform of the Church in its head and members, and the settlement of the Hussite movement which, after the death of John Huss, had spread very widely. Pope Eugenius IV was not in sympathy with the council. The Council of Basel and the pope, at the same time and independently of each other, opened negotiations with Emperor John VIII. The Council of Basel and Constantinople exchanged embassies, and among the Greek envoys was the igumen (abbot) of a Constantinopohtan monastery, Isidore, the future metropolitan of Moscow. He delivered a speech in favor of church union which, he said, “would create a great monument vying with the Colossus of Rhodes, whose top would reach the sky and whose brilliancy would be seen in East and West.”[284] After fruitless disputes concerning the place of a future council, the Fathers of the Council of Basel decided they would settle the Hussite quarrel, and then consider the Greek problem. The Byzantine Greeks, representatives of true Orthodoxy, were deeply offended at being put on the same footing with the “heretic” Hussites. “A real storm burst out” at Constantinople.[285] Meanwhile, the Emperor was nearing agreement with the pope, who was taking over the leadership in the union negotiations. Fearing the reformatory tendencies of the Council of Basel, Eugenius IV transferred the council to the north-Italian city of Ferrara, and when the plague broke out there, to Florence. Some of the members of the council, however, in disobedience to the papal orders, remained at Basel and even elected another pope.

The meetings of the Council of Ferrara-Florence were held with unusual solemnity.

Emperor John VIII with his brother; Joseph, the patriarch of Constantinople; Mark (Marcus), the metropolitan of Ephesus, a convinced opponent of the union; Bessarion, the gifted and highly educated supporter of the union; and a great number of other representatives of the clergy and laity arrived at Ferrara by way of Venice. The Grand Prince of Moscow, Vasili II the Dark (or Blind), sent to the council Isidore, metropolitan of Moscow, who was favorably inclined to the union; a numerous retinue of the Russian clergy and laity accompanied him. This was the time of the very flower of the Italian Renaissance. Ferrara under the House of Este and Florence under the House of Medici were brilliant centers of artistic and intellectual activity.

The quarrels and debates at the Council, which were reduced to the two chief problems, the filioque and the primacy of the pope, dragged on for a long time. Not all the Greeks were willing to recognize these dogmas, and the weary Emperor was on the point of leaving Florence. Patriarch Joseph, who was opposed to the union, died at Florence before its official promulgation. But Isidore, the metropolitan of Moscow, worked very actively in favor of the union. Finally, the decree of union drawn up in two languages was solemnly promulgated in the presence of the Emperor on July 6, 1439, in the cathedral of Florence, Santa Maria del Fiore. Several Greeks, however, with Mark of Ephesus at their head, refused to sign the decree.

In Italy there exist today a number of marks of the union of Florence. A very interesting contemporary copy of the decree of union, written in three languages, Latin, Greek, and Slavonic, is preserved and exhibited in one of the libraries of Florence, Biblioteca Laurenziana; besides the Greek and Latin signatures to this document, there is the Russian signature “of the humble bishop Abramius of Suzdal,” who was present at the council. The cathedral of Florence, Santa Maria del Fiore, where the union was promulgated, still exists. In another church of Florence, Santa Maria Novella, one may see today the funeral monument of Patriarch Joseph, who died during the council, with his life-size picture in fresco. Finally, in the Palazzo Riccardi, also at Florence, there has been preserved a fresco by the fifteenth century Italian painter, Benozzo Gozzoli, representing the procession of the Magi, who go to Bethlehem to adore the newborn Christ; in the persons of the Magi the painter portrayed, though rather fantastically, John Palaeologus and Patriarch Joseph, whose entrance into Florence he might have personally observed. Rome also has some relics of the Union of Florence. Between the big bas-reliefs, fifteenth century work with the pictures of the Savior, the Holy Virgin, and St. Peter and St. Paul on the well-known entrance gates into the temple of St. Peter, are some small bas-reliefs relating to the Council of Florence; the Emperor’s sailing from Constantinople, his arrival in Ferrara, a meeting of the Council of Florence, the Emperor’s departure with his retinue from Venice. Finally, in one of the museums of Rome there is preserved a beautiful bronze life-size bust of John Palaeologus wearing a pointed hat. This bust, which is often reproduced, was perhaps made from life during the Emperor’s stay at Florence.[286]

Like the Union of Lyon, the Union of Florence was not accepted in the East, and on his return to Constantinople John very soon realized that his enterprise had miscarried.

A numerous Orthodox party gathered around Mark of Ephesus, who had refused to sign the decree of union; many of those who had signed withdrew their signatures. At Moscow, Isidore ordered the decree of union to be solemnly read in the Cathedral of the Assumption (Uspenski Cathedral), but he found no support. The Grand Prince called him no longer the shepherd and teacher of his flock but a ravening wolf, and he was placed under arrest in a monastery, from which he escaped to Rome. The eastern patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem also declared against the union, and at the Council of Jerusalem, in 1443, the Council of Florence was called “impure”

(μιαρα).[287]

The Catholic church, however, still recognizes the validity of the decree of the Council of Florence, and as late as the nineteenth century Pope Leo XIII in his encyclical concerning the union of the churches appealed to the Orthodox to return to the decree of union.

The last Byzantine emperor, Constantine XI, like his brother John VIII, believed that the salvation of the perishing Empire lay in union with the western church.

The question of the Council of St. Sophia.

Some scholars assume that in 1450 in the church of St. Sophia, a council was summoned which was attended by numerous representatives of the Orthodox clergy who had come to Constantinople, among them the patriarchs of Antioch, Alexandria, and Jerusalem; this council condemned the union and its partisans and announced the restoration of Orthodoxy. Leo Allatius, a very well-known scholar in Italy in the seventeenth century, was the first to publish the fragments of the acts of this council but he considered them spurious. Since then the opinions of scholars have been divided: some, following the example of Allatius, regarded the acts of the council as spurious and affirmed that the council itself never existed; others, Greek theologians and Greek scholars in particular, who were exceedingly interested in such a council, considered the published acts genuine and the convocation of the Council of St. Sophia a historical fact. In more recent times, the tendency has been to consider the acts of the Council of St. Sophia false and to deny the very fact of the convocation of the council,[288] although some scholars still aver that the council really took place.[289]

There is not enough evidence to affirm that under Constantine there was an open break from the union confirmed by a council. On the contrary, when he saw fatal danger approaching the city, Constantine again appealed for aid to the West. Instead of the desired military aid, only the former metropolitan of Moscow, Isidore, who had participated in the Union of Florence, now a cardinal in the Roman Catholic church, arrived in Constantinople and in December 1452, five months before the fall of the city, read in St. Sophia the solemn promulgation of union and celebrated the union liturgy, including the name of the pope. This act at such a crisis aroused the greatest agitation among the population of the city.

After the fall of Constantinople, the religion and religious institutions of the Greeks were preserved under the Turkish sway. In spite of the occasional violence of the Turkish government and the Muhammedan people against the representatives of the Greek church and the Orthodox population, under Muhammed II and his immediate successors the religious rights which had been granted the Christians were strictly observed. The patriarch, bishops, and priests were proclaimed inviolable. The clergy was exempted from taxes, while all the rest of the Greeks were obliged to pay an annual tribute (charadj). Half of the churches in the capital were converted into mosques, and the other half remained in use by the Christians. The church canons remained in force in all matters concerning the inner church administration, which was in the hands of the patriarch and bishops. The sacred patriarchal synod continued to exist, and the patriarch along with the synod carried on the matters of church administration. All religious services could be freely celebrated; in all cities and villages, for instance, Easter might be solemnly celebrated.[290] This religious toleration in the Turkish Empire has been preserved to the present day, although in the course of time, cases of Turkish violation of the religious rights of the Christians became more frequent, and the position of the Christian population was from time to time very difficult.

The first patriarch of Constantinople under the new rule was elected by the clergy soon after the capture of the city by the Turks, and he was recognized by the sultan.

The choice fell on Gennadius (George) Scholarius. He had accompanied John VIII to the Council of Ferrara and Florence and had been then a partisan of union, but later he changed his mind and became a zealous defender of Orthodoxy. With his accession, the Greco-Roman union entirely ceased to exist.

Political and social conditions in the Empire.

The problem of the internal conditions of the Empire under the Palaeologi is among the least studied and most complicated problems of Byzantine history. The sources on this subject, numerous and manifold, have not yet been satisfactorily examined or adequately estimated. Much precious material, especially imperial chrysobulls and monastic and private charters, is srill preserved unpublished among manuscript treasures of different libraries in the East and West; in this respect the manuscripts of the Athenian monasteries are of the greatest importance. But the Orthodox monks of Mount Athos were too watchful guards of their libraries, and in the eighteenth century and the first half of the nineteenth, the Athenian manuscripts were practically inaccessible to scholars who were not of the Orthodox faith. For this reason in the earlier study of Athenian manuscripts the Russian Orthodox scholars played a very important part.

In the eighteenth century, a Russian traveler, V. G. Barsky, visited the Athenian monasteries twice (in 1725-26 and in 1744). He was the first to become acquainted with the hidden archives and, through his detailed description, he threw light on a rich mine of historical sources preserved in the Athonian libraries.[291] In the nineteenth century, the Russian scholars, Bishop Porphyrius (Uspensky), P. Sevastyanov, T.

Florinsky, and V. Regel, worked assiduously in the monasteries of the Holy Mountain and published a long series of very important documents on the internal situation of the Byzantine Empire. Especially important are the charters published in the supplements to several volumes of the Russian Byzantine review, Vizantiysky Vremennik, which have not yet been thoroughly studied. At the very end of the nineteenth century, a Greek scholar, Sp. Lampros, published a catalogue of the Greek manuscripts on Mount Athos. But owing to circumstances beyond his control, Lampros could not include in his catalogue the two most important collections of manuscripts preserved in the monasteries of the Laura and of Vatopedi. The catalogue of the Greek manuscripts in the library of the monastery of Vatopedi came to light in 1924.[292] In 1915, the French scholar G. Millet was sent on a mission to Mount Athos, where he collected a series of documents from the archives of the Laura, which is, according to a chrysobull, “the head and Acropolis of the whole monastic republic.”[293]

In the preface to the Vatopedi catalogue, the authors declared: “The Holy Mountain has preserved and saved intact Byzantine civilization and the spiritual forces of the Hellenic people.”[294]

Rich material on the Palaeologian epoch is also to be found in other libraries. Of great importance is the collection published by Miklosich and Müller, Acta et diplomata graeca medii aevi, as well as numerous editions of Greek texts by a Greek scholar, C.

Sathas. Finally, the acts of the monastery of Vazelon, near Trebizond, recently published, give new and rich material for the history of peasant and monastery landownership, not only in the Empire of Trebizond, but in Byzantium in general from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century.[295]

As the territory of the restored Empire of the Palaeologi was small and was continually being reduced and constantly menaced by the Normans, Turks, Serbs, Venetians, and Genoese, the Empire under the Palaeologi passed into the secondary rank and was no longer a normal and well-organized state. Disorganization in all parts of the state machinery and decay of the central imperial power are the characteristic traits of the period. The long dynastic strife of the two Andronicoi, grandfather and grandson, and of John V Palaeologus and John Cantacuzene; submission to the popes with the view of achieving union and in connection with this, the sometimes humiliating voyages to western Europe of the emperors (John V, who was arrested at Venice for debt, Manuel II, and John VIII, similar abasement and humiliation before the Turkish sultans in various forms), the payment of tribute, forced stays at the Turkish court, and the giving of the imperial princesses in marriage — all this weakened and degraded the power of the Byzantine basileus in the eyes of the people.

Constantinople itself, which had passed into the hands of the Palaeologi after sack and pillage by the Latins, was a ruin of the city it had been before. Greek writers and various foreign travelers and pilgrims, who visited Constantinople at that time, all testify to the decay of the capital.

At the beginning of the fourteenth century, an Arab geographer, Abulfeda, after briefly enumerating the most important monuments of Constantinople, remarked;

“Within the city there are sown fields and gardens, and many destroyed houses.”[296]

At the very beginning of the fifteenth century a Spanish traveler, Ruy Gonzales de Clavijo, wrote: “Everywhere throughout the city there are many great palaces, churches and monasteries, but most of them are now in ruin. It is, however, plain that in former times when Constantinople was in its pristine state it was one of the noblest capitals of the world.” In contrast with Constantinople, when Clavijo visited the Genoese settlement across the Golden Horn, at Pera, he noted: “The city of Pera is only a small township, but very populous. It is surrounded by a strong wall and has excellent houses, all well built.”[297] At the same time, an Italian, Buondelmonti of Florence, wrote that one of the most famous churches of Constantinople, the Church of the Holy Apostles, was in a state of decay (ecclesia jam derupta).[298] None the less, pious pilgrims from different countries, who visited Constantinople in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, among them seven Russian pilgrims, were amazed and spellbound by the decorations and relics of the Constantinopolitan church.[299] In 1287, the monk Rabban Sauma, an envoy of the king of the Mongols, after meeting the Emperor, Andronicus II, and with his special permission, piously visited the churches and relics of the city.[300] Under Manuel II, in 1422, a Burgundian traveler, diplomat, and moralist, Ghillebert de Lannoy, was kindly received by the Emperor and by his young son and heir, who allowed him to visit “the marvels and antiquities of the city and of the churches.”[301]

In 1437, a Spanish traveler, Pero Tafur, was graciously treated at Constantinople by Emperor John VIII, When, on his way back from the Crimea and Trebizond, Pero Tafur visited Constantinople again, the “Despot Dragas,” John’s brother, was governing there, for John himself at that time was in Italy. Tafur remarked that “the church they called Valayerna [Blachernae] is today so burnt that it cannot be repaired;” that “the dockyard must have been magnificent; even now it is sufficient to house the ships.”

“The Emperor’s Palace must have been very magnificent, but now it is in such state that both it and the city show well the evils which the people have suffered and still endure

… The city is sparsely populated … The inhabitants are not well clad, but sad and poor, showing the hardship of their lot which is, however, not so bad as they deserve, for they are a vicious people, steeped in sin.” Perhaps it would not be amiss to add this statement of Tafur: “The Emperor’s state is as splendid as ever, for nothing is omitted from the ancient ceremonies, but, properly regarded, he is like a Bishop without a See.”[302]

After the Turkish and Serbian conquests in the Balkan peninsula in the second half of the fourteenth century, Constantinople with its nearest possessions in Thrace was surrounded by the dominions of the Turks and could hardly maintain by sea, relations with the territories which still composed a part of the Empire: Thessalonica, Thessaly, and the Despotat of Morea. These territories therefore became almost independent of the central government. Under these new conditions, when the sea route from the northern shore of the Black Sea, very important for the corn supply of the capital, was cut off by the Turks, the island of Lemnos, in the north of the Archipelago, became for a time a granary for Constantinople.[303]

Owing to the feudalizing processes within the Empire which had begun before the Palaeologi, the skillfully organized central state machinery gradually weakened; at times, the central departments had almost nothing to do, for the Empire was disunited and disorganized to an extreme degree. Under the Palaeologi, finances, which had been undermined at the root by the Latin regime, became absolutely exhausted. The taxes from the few devastated provinces which still remained in the hands of the Emperor were not paid; all the balances of the funds were spent; the imperial jewelry was sold; soldiers could not be fed; misery reigned everywhere.[304] A historian of the fourteenth century, Nicephorus Gregoras, described the wedding festivities of John V: At that time, the palace was so poor that there was in it no cup or goblet of gold or silver; some were of pewter, and all the rest of clay … at that festival most of the imperial diadems and garb showed only the semblance of gold and jewels; [in reality]

they were of leather and were but gilded, as tanners do sometimes, or of glass which reflected in different colors; only seldom, here and there, were precious stones having a genuine charm and the brilliancy of pearls, which does not mislead the eyes. To such a degree the ancient prosperity and brilliance of the Roman Empire had fallen, entirely gone out and perished, that, not without shame, I tell you this story.[305]

The cities particularly threatened by the Turks began to be deserted by their population. After the taking of Callipolis (Gallipoli) by the Turks a number of inhabitants of Constantinople left for the West.[306] In 1425 many people emigrated from Thessalonica, and some of them went to Constantinople in the hope that the capital was more secure than Thessalonica.[307] This was the critical time when Thessalonica was occupied by the Venetians, and the Turks were about to seize the city, which actually happened in 1430.

The reduced territory of the Empire and the very small population made it impossible for the Palaeologian government to keep a large local army, so that the army was composed of mercenaries of various nationalities. Under the Palaeologi appeared the Spanish (Catalan) companies, Turks, Genoese, and Venetians, Serbs and Bulgars. There were also, as before, Anglo-Saxon mercenaries, the so-called Varangians or Anglo-Varangians, and Vardariots, of Turkish stock.[308] Unable to pay its mercenaries well, the government was forced sometimes to tolerate their arrogant restlessness and their devastation of entire provinces and large centers, as, for example, the bloody passage of the Catalans through the Balkan peninsula. Having a weak and disorganized land army, the Palaeologi endeavored in vain to restore the navy, which was in a state of complete decay. Michael Palaeologus accomplished something. But his successor, Andronicus II, neglected the fleet again, so that the islands of the Archipelago which were under the control of the Empire could no longer be protected against the aggressions of the pirates.[309] The navy could do nothing against the well equipped and strong fleets of the Genoese and Venetians, or even against the Turkish fleet, which had just made its appearance. The Black and Aegean Seas passed entirely out of the control of Byzantium, and in the fourteenth century and the first half of the fifteenth the fleets of the Italian commercial republics were masters there.

The provincial or theme organization had been broken up by the Latin dominion and could not function normally under the Palaeologi. For the earlier type of provincial administration the Empire had not enough territory, The former title of the governor of a theme, strategus, wholly disappeared under the Comneni and was replaced by the more modest title of dux.[310] The term theme has sometimes been used by modern scholars for the province of Macedon and Thessaly in the fourteenth century.[311] But a province separated from the capital by the Turkish and Serbian dominions became a sort of despotat whose ruler was almost independent of the central government.

Usually, a member of the imperial family was at the head of such a new state. At the end of the fourteenth century Thessalonica received as her despot one of the sons of the Emperor John V. The Despotat of Morea was also ruled by sons or brothers of the imperial dynasty.

Social relations between the higher and lower classes were very strained under the Palaeologi. Agriculture, always considered the real basis of the economic welfare of the Empire, fell into decay. Many fertile provinces were lost; the rest were devastated by the almost continuous civil strife and by the fatal passage of the Catalan companies. In Asia Minor the economic prosperity of the border settlers (akritai), also based on agriculture, was thoroughly undermined by the repressive measures of Michael VIII and the victorious advance of the Turks.

Large landownership was a distinctive feature of the Palaeologian epoch. The ruined peasants were in the power of their landlords. Quite a number of Greeks became powerful landowners in Thessaly after 1261. In the western part of Thessaly, which was seized by the Despot of Epirus, and in the northeastern part of Thessaly, which belonged to the Byzantine Emperor, the wealthy landlords played a most important role, and established feudal relations with smaller landowners. But owing to the Catalan devastations at the beginning of the fourteenth century and the invasions of the Albanians, the land system of Thessaly fell into a chaotic condition. Many Albanians became large landowners. Some improvement in the administration of the land was made, when in 1348 the king of Serbia, Stephen Dushan, took possession of Thessaly.[312] In some mountainous parts of Thessaly there were to be found some individual peasant landownership and free peasant communities.[313]

On the power and wilfulness of the large landowners (archonts) in the

Peloponnesus important information is given by Mazaris.[314] Earlier in the fourteenth century, John Cantacuzene wrote that the internal decay of the Peloponnesus was the effect not of the Turkish or Latin invasions, but of internal strife, which made “the Peloponnesus more desert than Scythia.” When Manuel, son of John V, was appointed Despot of Morea, he more or less restored agriculture, so that “the Peloponnesus became in a short time cultivated,” and the population began to come back to their homes.[315] But the Turkish conquest put an end to the Byzantine work in Morea.

Under the pressure of the all-powerful, large landholders, the villages and the peasantry endured great hardships. The peasantry was ruined. It is sometimes stated that the position of the peasants, for example, in the district of Thessalontca in the fourteenth century, at least on the estates of large landowners, was not very bad.[316]

But, even if this was true, the misery of the peasants in general is not to be doubted.

Class struggles and the hatred of the lower classes for the wealthy was felt not only in the provinces, but also in the chief cities of the Empire. During the revolution of 1328

the populace of Constantinople sacked the magnificent palace of Theodore Metochites.[317]

From the point of view of the social antagonism between aristocratic and democratic elements, the revolutionary attempt in Thessalonica which broke out in the middle of the fourteenth century is exceedingly interesting and important. The revolutionary movement rose in 1341 at Hadrianople in connection with the proclamation of John Cantacuzene as Emperor, and manifested itself in sedition, successful at first, of the populace against the rich classes (δυνατοι); then it spread to the other cities of the Empire.[318] The revolution of the zealots at Thessalonica, in the fifth decade of the fourteenth century, is particularly interesting.[319]

The sources distinguish three classes at Thessalonica: (1) the wealthy and noble; (2) the middle class or bourgeoisie, “the middle” (οι μεσοι), to whom belonged merchants, manufacturers, rich craftsmen, small landowners and professional men; and, finally, (3) the populace—the small farmers, small craftsmen, sailors, and workers. While the significance and influence of the wealthy class was becoming more and more powerful, the position of the lower class, especially that of the farmers near the city, whose lands were continuously ruined by the enemy was going from bad to worse. All the commerce of this important economic center and the advantages connected with it were in the hands of the higher class. Resentment was growing, and any casual incident might provoke a clash. Then John Cantacuzene was proclaimed Emperor with the support of the nobility; immediately the democratic elements came to the defense of the Palaeologi. Tafrali wrote; “It was no longer a struggle of the ambitions of two persons who contested with each other for the supreme power, but a struggle between two classes, of which one wanted to maintain its privileges and the other was attempting to throw off its yoke.”[320] One contemporary source wrote that

“Thessalonica was regarded as the teacher of the other cities in the uprisings of the populace against the aristocracy.”[321]

At the head of the democracy of Thessalonica stood the zealots who in 1342

expelled the nobles from the city, pillaged their rich houses, and established a sort of republican government by the members of the zealot party. Complications within the city led to a bloody massacre of the nobility in 1346. Nicholas Cabasilas was one of the few who escaped death. Even after Cantacuzene had come to an agreement with John V

Palaeologus, the zealot government at Thessalonica continued to exist and “in certain respects resembled a real republic.”[322] The zealots paid no attention to orders from Constantinople, and Thessalonica was governed as an independent republic until in 1349 John V and Cantacuzene finally succeeded, by their united efforts, in putting an end to the democratic regime of the zealots.

The real causes of the revolution of Thessalonica are not yet quite clear. The Roumanian historian, Tafrali, considered the chief cause the deplorable economic situation of the population, and saw in the zealots the champions of freedom and better social conditions for the future.[323] Diehl wrote: “The struggle of the classes, rich against poor, aristocrats against plebeians, and the atrocity of the struggle manifest themselves in the interesting, tragic and bloody history of the commune of Thessalonica in the fourteenth century;” this struggle “betrays a vague tendency towards a communistic movement.”[324] On the other hand, another historian maintained that in the revolt of Thessalonica the political element, that is, the struggle against the partisans of John Cantacuzene, prevailed over the social element.[325] This problem deserves further study, but it appears that the social background occupied the first place in the revolution of Thessalonica; however, the social problem was intermingled with the political interests of that time, with the civil war between John V

and John Cantacuzene. As an example of class struggle the revolution at Thessalonica is one of the most interesting phenomena in the general history of medieval social problems.

Owing to the external and internal conditions of the Empire, Byzantium lost control of her trade. Yet before the Turks definitely cut off all connection, Constantinople, as before, remained a center where merchandise came from various quarters and where one might meet merchants of different nationalities.

Francesco Balducci Pegolotti, a Florentine merchant and writer of the first half of the fourteenth century, a factor in the service of the mercantile house of the Bardi, gave valuable information about the merchandise for sale at Constantinople itself and at Galata or Pera, and about western merchants there.[326] Pegolotti mentions Genoese, Venetians, Pisans, Florentines, Provençals, Catalans, Anconans, Sicilians, and

“all other strangers” (e tutti altri strani).[327] A Burgundian pilgrim of the first half of the fifteenth century, Bertrandon de la Broquière, wrote that he saw in Constantinople many merchants of various nations, but the Venetians “had more authority;” in another place he mentioned Venetians, Genoese, and Catalans.[328] Of course, in addition there were in Constantinople many other merchants both from the west, for example from Ragusa on the Adriatic Sea, and from the east. Commercial intercourse in Constantinople was truly international.

But trade itself was no longer carried on by Byzantines; it passed entirely into the hands of the western merchants, mainly those of the Venetians and Genoese but to some extent those of the Pisans, Florentines, and others. From the reign of Michael VIII on, Genoa occupied the first place in the economic life of Byzantium. The Genoese were exempt from taxes, were allowed to build up and fortify Galata, and organized their factories and colonies not only in the islands of the Aegean Sea and in Asia Minor but also on the shores of the Black Sea, at Trebizond, in Caffa (Theodosia) in the Crimea, and at Tana at the mouth of the Don River.[329] Caffa especially was a flourishing and well-organized city with powerful fortifications and a detailed statute (1449) of administration.[330] A Byzantine historian, Pachymeres, admired the Genoese because the winter storms could not prevent them from navigating with their vessels in the Black Sea.[331] Venice was also free from trade taxes, and the permanent political and economic rivalry between the two powerful republics, Genoa and Venice, sometimes resulted in violent wars. The position of Byzantium in these wars was extremely delicate. At the end of the thirteenth century, when in 1291 St. Jean d’Acre, the last stronghold of the crusaders; in Syria, fell to the sultan of Egypt, Venice was deprived of her trade in the southeast Mediterranean basin; thereafter she devoted all her energy to a violent struggle with Genoa in the north to regain her economic position in Byzantium, in the Aegean and Black Seas. New evidence on commercial relations between Florence and Constantinople show that this trade was very active and was carried on chiefly in corn.[332]

But all the profit from the commercial activity of the many western merchants in Byzantium went to them, not to Byzantium; the economic dependence of the Palaeologi upon the wealthy and striving western republics and cities was complete. Economically the Palaeologi had no control over the Empire.

Italian influence may also be noticed on Byzantine coins. In the fourteenth century, under Andronicus II, Andronicus III, and John V, there was an attempt at monetary reform in connection with which the Florentine type of coin was introduced.

The Venetian type may also be noted. The last golden coin of the Byzantine Empire was minted under Manuel II, perhaps for his coronation, and on it the Holy Virgin surrounded by the walls of Constantinople was reproduced. No coins of the last Byzantine emperor, Constantine XI, are known.[333] The theory exists that under Manuel II and John VIII a reform took place which placed Byzantium under the regime of silver monometallism.[334] But this theory is not proved.

The economic might of the west in Byzantium was ended by the victorious advance of the Ottoman Turks; gradually they took possession of Constantinople and the rest of the Empire, of Trebizond, and the northern shores of the Black Sea.

In view of the general deplorable position of the Empire, both external and internal, it is strange to read an anonymous treatise concerning court offices attributed to the fourteenth century and often, though wrongly, ascribed to Kodinus (Codinus). In this treatise are described in detail the gorgeous raiment of the court dignitaries, their various coverings for the head, their shoes, and their decorations; meticulous descriptions are given of the court ceremonial, coronations, and promotions to one or another rank. This treatise serves as a supplement to the well-known work of the tenth century which described ceremonies of the Byzantine court. In the tenth century, at the time of the greatest brilliance and power of the Empire, such a work was comprehensible and necessary. But the appearance of an analogous treatise in the fourteenth century, on the eve of the final collapse of the Empire, is puzzling and reveals the blindness that apparently reigned at the court of the Byzantine Emperors of the last dynasty. Krumbacher, also puzzled by the appearance of this treatise in the fourteenth century, remarked, not without irony: “The answer is, perhaps, given by a medieval Greek proverb; ‘the world was perishing and my wife was still buying new clothes’ (ο κοσμοσ εποντιζετο και η εμη γυνη εστολιζετο.[335]

Learning, literature, science, and art

In political and economic respects the Empire under the Palaeologi was living through critical times, receding step by step before the Ottoman Turks, gradually reduced in territory until it was confined to Constantinople with its surroundings, and Morea. Apparently there would be neither place nor time nor suitable conditions for cultural development. In reality, however, the perishing Empire of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, especially the city of Constantinople, was a center of ardent culture, both intellectual and artistic. The schools of Constantinople flourished as they had in her most brilliant past, and students came not only from the far-off Greek regions, like Sparta or Trebizond, but even from Italy, at that time in the height of the Renaissance.

Philosophers, headed by Gemistus Plethon, explained Aristotle and Plato. Rhetoricians and philologists, who had studied the best specimens of classical antiquity and endeavored to equal them in their style, attracted enthusiastic groups of auditors and disciples and in their activity and interests presented a striking analogy to the Italian humanists. A great number of historians described the last days of the Empire. An active ecclesiastical life marked by the Hesychast movement and the problem of the union with the Roman church left its trace in literature, dogmatic, ascetic, mystic, and polemic. A revival may also be noted in poetry. Finally, this literary renaissance was followed by an artistic renaissance which has left monuments of great value. Besides Constantinople, Mistra-Sparta was also remarkable for a vivid intellectual movement.

The fourteenth century was the golden age of Thessalonica (Salonica) in art and letters.[336]

In a word, at the time of its political and economic decay, Hellenism seemed to gather all its strength to show the viability of classical culture and to give grounds for hope for the future Hellenic renaissance of the nineteenth century. One historian said,

“on the eve of her definite ruin, all Hellas was reassembling her intellectual energy to throw a last splendid glow.”[337]

Many members of the imperial families, Palaeologus and Cantacuzene, were distinguished for their learning. Michael VIII was the author of some essays in favor of union and some canons dedicated to important martyrs; he has also left his interesting autobiography,[338] the manuscript of which was found at the Synodal Library of Moscow, and he founded a grammar school at Constantinople. Andronicus the Elder admired letters and art and was a patron of scholars and artists. Some scholars assume that his protection developed the artistic atmosphere which produced such remarkable monuments of art as the mosaics of the monastery Chora (present-day mosque Qahriye-Jami) at Constantinople.[339] Manuel II was particularly renowned for his education and literary talent. A fine theologian, an authority in the classics, a skillful dialectian, and an excellent stylist, he left many writings: a treatise on the Procession of the Holy Ghost, an attack against Islam, a number of orations on various subjects, the

“Description of spring on a regal woven curtain,” in a rather jocose style, and, finally, a large collection of important letters to many prominent men of his epoch, written either during his forced stay at the Turkish court or on his journey through western Europe. Altogether there exist about 109 essays and letters from the pen of Manuel.[340]

But from the point of view of literary activity, the first place among the emperors must be attributed to John VI Cantacuzene, who after his forced abdication ended his days as a monk under the name of Ioasaph and devoted the time of his solitude to scientific work and literature. His chief literary work is the Histories, in four books, or, perhaps, Memoirs, which covers the period from 1320 to 1356 and makes some references to later periods. The author announced in the introduction that he would write nothing but the truth,[341] but he deviated, perhaps unconsciously, from his intention, in dealing with the events in which he took part. He endeavored to free himself from blame and to praise himself and his friends and partisans; at the same time he tried to abase, ridicule, and blacken his adversaries. Cantacuzene was the only Byzantine Emperor, to write detailed memoirs and, in spite of his prejudiced statements, they constitute a rich mine of very important information on the troubled history of the fourteenth century in the Balkan peninsula, and on the Slavs and the geography of the Balkan regions in particular. Cantacuzene also wrote some theological essays of which the greater part are not yet published. Examples of these are the polemic essays against Barlaam, the Jews, and the Muhammedans. John Cantacuzene transmitted his literary interests to his son Matthew who, after his father’s fall, was also forced to take refuge in the cowl. He wrote some theological and rhetorical treatises.

The epoch of the Palaeologi produced a group of important and gifted historians who endeavored to describe and to explain the tragic events of the time. The historian Pachymeres (1242-1310), who, after the expulsion of the Latins, had come from Nicaea to Constantinople, was a very well-educated man. Owing to his high official position, Pachymeres could supplement his own observation by reliable official documents. He was an earnest spokesman for national Greek spirit and therefore opposed to the idea of union. Besides some rhetorical and philosophical essays, his autobiography written in hexameter, and some letters, he was the author of a very important, historical work which embraces the period from 1261 to the beginning of the fourteenth century (1307-1308). This is the chief source for the reign of Michael VIII and for a part of the rule of Andronicus the Elder. Pachymeres was the first Byzantine historian whose main interest lay in the subtle and complicated dogmatic disputes of the time. “It seems,”

Krumbacher wrote, “as if those men, turning with horror from the distressing events of the political life of the Empire, sought for consolation and relief in abstract investigation of the religious dogmatic problems which were then agitating all minds.”[342] One of the most interesting portions of Pachymeres’ history is his narration of Roger de Flor’s Catalan expedition, which is important in comparison with the account of the Catalan chronicler Muntaner.[343] Pachymeres’ writing, where Homeric phrases are intermingled with theological declamation and foreign and popular expressions, is permeated with pedantic imitation of antique style; with an evident loss of clearness, Pachymeres even used the little known Attic names for the months instead of the common Christian names. Some of Pachymeres’ writings are not yet published, and even his chief historical work needs a new critical edition.[344]

In the beginning of the fourteenth century, Nicephorus Kallistus Xanthopulos compiled his Ecclesiastical History. His original plan may have been to bring the History up to his own time, but he stopped at the year 911. Only the part of his work which covers the time from the birth of Christ to the beginning of the seventh century exists today in full. He also wrote church poems, epigrams, and some other writings.[345]

In the fourteenth century also lived one of the greatest scholars and writers of the two last centuries of Byzantium, Nicephorus Gregoras, who participated in the Hesychast quarrel. In variety and extent of knowledge, in skill in dialectic, and in strength of character he was superior to almost all the eminent men in Byzantium of the Palaeologian epoch and may be freely compared with the best representatives of the western Renaissance. He received an excellent education, was familiar with classic literature, and was so enthusiastic about astronomy that he even proposed to the Emperor a calendar reform. Gregoras, after several years of successful teaching, took an active part in the stormy theological quarrels of the epoch and wrote many works, of which a considerable part are not yet published.[346] He began as a violent opponent of the Calabrian monk Barlaam, but gradually came over to the side of union; for this he was severely persecuted by the authorities and even confined in prison. Gregoras ended his stormy life, in all probability, about 1360. He wrote in almost all fields of Byzantine scholarship — theology, philosophy, astronomy, history, rhetoric, and grammar. The most important is his large Roman history in thirty-seven books, covering the period from 1204 to 1359, the epoch of the Nicene and Latin Empires and the time of the first four Palaeologi and John Cantacuzene. The events previous to 1204

are sketched briefly, and the detailed account, especially of the dogmatic quarrel of his epoch, begins with this year. Gregoras could not help giving full details of the religious disputes in which he was one of the leading participants; therefore his history clearly reflects his sympathies and is not free from prejudice. Perhaps it is better classed as a sort of memoir than as a history. It may be called “a subjectively painted picture of an imposing ecclesiastical process of fermentation.”[347] Scholars vary in their estimation of Gregoras’ importance. Krumbacher called him “the greatest polyhistor of the last two centuries of Byzantium;”[348] Montelatici described him as “the greatest scholar of his time.”[349] The most recent biographer of Gregoras, Guilland, disagreed with Krumbacher. He wrote: “Is Gregoras the greatest polyhistor of the time of the Palaeologi, as Krumbacher likes to call him? No. He is one of the most eminent writers of Byzantium in the fourteenth century, but he is not the greatest … Gregoras is not the greatest, but one of the greatest writers of the century, which is still too little known though very important in the history of Byzantine civilization and even of European civilization.”[350] In any event, the universality of Gregoras’ knowledge is amazing, and it is difficult to find in Byzantium an adequate parallel to this brilliant representative of the Byzantine renaissance.

The important political events of the fifteenth century left considerable trace in the historical literature of the time. John Cananus wrote a special essay on the unsuccessful siege of Constantinople by the Turks in 1422. Cananus, who wrote in language very close to the spoken tongue, attributed the rescue of the capital to the miraculous intercession of the Holy Virgin. Perhaps John Cananus was also the author of a very brief account usually ascribed to Cananus Lascaris, on his voyage to Germany, Sweden, Norway, Livonia, and even to the far-off island of Iceland.[351]

John Anagnostes is the author of a trustworthy account of the capture of Thessalonica by the Turks in 1430. Unlike Cananus, Anagnostes followed strictly the rules of literary art and was very anxious to maintain the purity of his Greek.

Finally, the historians of the fatal event of 1453, which so deeply and painfully struck its contemporaries, are represented by four men whose works differ in point of view and value. They have already been discussed. But these four — George Phrantzes, Ducas, Laonikos Chalcocondyles (or Chalcocandyles), and Critobulus — are sources not only for the fall of Constantinople but also for the Palaeologian epoch in general.

The Chronicle of Phrantzes has been preserved in two forms, one abridged, the other more detailed. The briefer, which is often called minus, deals with the years 1413-78 only, whereas the longer (maius), or Phrantzes’ History, covers the time from 1258

to 1478; it begins with the last years of the Empire of Nicaea and ends in the time of the Turkish sway at Constantinople. He was within the capital during the siege, so that his detailed account is that of an eyewitness. After the fall of Constantinople he was captured by the Turks. Later he was ransomed and escaped for a time to Mistra, which the Turks had not then taken. Before they conquered the Peloponnesus, Phrantzes fled to the island of Corfù, which at that time belonged to Venice. There in a monastery where he took holy orders under the name of Gregorius, he wrote his history at the request of some noble Corfiotes.[352] Wholly indebted for his official career to the Palaeologi, with whom his relations were close, Phrantzes was their special historian and he often exaggerated their merits and suppressed their defects. Hatred of the Turks, faithfulness and devotion to Orthodoxy, and loyalty to the Palaeologi are the distinctive traits of Phrantzes’ work. In spite of his prejudices, his work, written by an eyewitness close to the events, is of great importance, especially from the reign of John VIII on. Phrantzes’ style is simple and easy; it contains a number of Turkish and a few Italian words. A biographer of Phrantzes remarked: “Essentially a man of affairs — and this constitutes the value of his history — he yet, like most Byzantine historians, had a good knowledge of literature.”[353] “A man of affairs” means that Phrantzes was closely connected with the state and personal affairs of Constantine XI and the real situation of the empire.

Ducas (Doukas), a Greek of Asia Minor, wrote “in slightly polished spoken Greek”[354] a history from 1341 to 1462, i.e., from the accession of John V to the conquest of the island of Lesbos by the Turks. In the opening pages of his work he gave a brief chronological introduction beginning with Adam; the reigns of the last three Palaeologi are treated in great detail. Inwardly Orthodox, he accepted the compromise with Rome as the only way to save the perishing Empire. Ducas spent almost all his life in the service of a Genoese ruler of Lesbos, but he did not break with the Greek people.

He looked with deep sorrow upon their fatal destiny, and his account of the fall of Constantinople ends with the “lament,” from which a fragment already has been quoted. Ducas’ history has been preserved not only in its original Greek text, but also in an old Italian version, which in some places supplements passages lacking in the original Greek.[355] One of Ducas’ biographers said: “Sober, modest, well-educated, truthful, and, in spite of all his patriotism, comparatively impartial, Ducas serves as an excellent guide for understanding the real situation of persons and events.”[356] A more recent biographer of Ducas remarked: “Ducas is an author worthy of study; for he was truthful and in several instances an eyewitness — qualities which, in the opinion of historians, far outweigh the barbarism of his style, which so much offended his supercilious editor in the defective Bonn edition.”[357]

Laonikos Chalcocondyles (or Chalcocandyles), or in its abbreviated form, Chalcondyles,[358] Athenian by origin, centered his work, not in Constantinople or at the court of the Palaeologi, but in the young and vigorous Ottoman Empire. He wrote a History in ten books, from 1298 to 1463 or, to be more exact, early in 1464;[359] he related not the history of the Palaeologian dynasty but the history of the Ottomans and their rulers. Laonikos was forced to flee from Athens, spent the time up to the Turkish conquest in the Peloponnesus, and then went to Italy, or more probably to Crete, where he composed his work. Following Herodotus and Thucydides, Laonikos was a good example of how a Greek could study the ancient language in the letter, without being able to grasp the spirit. Like Thucydides, he put speeches into the mouths of his characters, which were, of course, works of pure imagination. A good deal of information, often not very exact, is given by Laonikos on the peoples and countries of western Europe.[360] His recent biographer declared, “With, an impartiality rare in a part of the world where racial hatred burns so fiercely, he describes the origin, organization, and triumph of his nation’s great enemy, while he extends his narrative beyond the borders of the Greek Empire, to the Serbs, the Bosniaks, the Bulgarians and the Roumanians, with interesting and curious digressions, quite in the style of Herodotus, about the manners and customs of countries beyond southeastern Europe —

Hungary, Germany, Italy, Spain, France, and England. This great variety justifies the remark of a critic, that ‘he has the gift of arousing our attention, by inspiring us with curiosity, and of not letting us fall asleep over his book.’”[361]

Finally, Critobulus, unsuccessfully imitating Thucydides, composed a eulogistic history of Muhammed II, in the years from 1451 to 1467.

The epoch of the Palaeologi, represented by a number of historians, produced almost no chroniclers. In the fourteenth century there was only one, a certain Ephraim, who wrote a chronicle in verse (about 10,000 lines) embracing the time from Julius Caesar to the restoration of the Empire by Michael Palaeologus in 1261. It is quite useless from the historical point of view.

The problem of union, which became especially pressing in the epoch of the Palaeologi and led twice to the formal achievement of union, as well as the long and stormy Hesychast quarrel, evoked intense activity in dogmatic and polemic literature.

The latter produced a number of writers among both partisans and opponents of the union and the Hesychasts; some of these writers have already been discussed.

Three writers and men of affairs may be mentioned among the most eminent partisans of the union: John Beccus who died at the end of the thirteenth century, Demetrius Cydones who lived in the fourteenth century, and the famous learned theologian of the fifteenth century, Bessarion of Nicaea.

John Beccus, a contemporary of Michael Palaeologus, was originally opposed to the reconciliation with Rome and resisted Michael’s union policy. He therefore incurred the Emperor’s anger and in spite of his high church office was put in prison. According to the sources, Beccus was a man of conspicuous intellect and education. According to a Greek historian, he was distinguished “by scholarship, long experience, and eloquence which could put an end to schism.”[362] Another historian of the fourteenth century called him “a clever man, master of eloquence and learning, endowed with such gifts of nature as no one of his contemporaries possessed … In sharpness of mind, fluency of speech, and knowledge of church dogmas, all others, compared with him, seemed children.”[363] The writings of Nicephorus Blemmydes, of the epoch of Nicaea, made him change his religious ideas and sympathies. He became a partisan of the union.

Michael VIII elevated him to the patriarchal throne, which he occupied up to the beginning of the reign of Andronicus II. The latter broke the union, deposed Beccus, and confined him in prison, where he died. The longest work of Beccus is a treatise, On the Union and Peace Between the Churches of Old and New Rome, in which the author attempted to prove that the Greek Church Fathers already recognized the Latin dogma, but that the later Greek theologians, with Photius at their head, corrupted their doctrine. Beccus similarly treated the subject of the Procession of the Holy Ghost. He wrote some other theological essays of the same character. For the partisans of union who succeeded him, Beccus’ works were a rich source from which they were able to draw needed material.[364]

Demetrius Cydones belongs among the talented writers in theology and rhetoric of the Palaeologian epoch. He was born at Thessalonica at the very beginning of the fourteenth century and died at the beginning of the fifteenth century, so that his life lasted an entire century.[365] At Milan he became thoroughly acquainted with Latin language and literature. He lived successively in Thessalonica, Constantinople, and Crete, was granted citizenship of Venice,[366] and ended his days in a monastery.

Cydones took an active part in the religious disputes of his time, favoring reconciliation with Rome. In his literary works he had the great advantage over the majority of his contemporaries of knowing Latin, and could make use of the most eminent western writers and scholars. He was the author of numerous essays on different problems in theology, rhetoric, and philosophy.[367] A treatise on The Procession of the Holy Ghost, published among Cydones’ works, apparently does not belong to him, but to one of his disciples, Manuel Calecas.[368] Cydones translated from Latin into Greek, among other things, the famous work of Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae. This translation has not yet been published. A Catholic writer remarked: “These laborious translations which make St. Thomas speak in the tongue of St. Jean Damascene have been buried for four centuries in the dust of libraries. Is this their destiny for the future? Will there not be found somewhere a theologian, an apostle, both Thomist and Hellenist, to spread and circulate in the Greek Church the doctrinal riches that Cydones has preserved for future times?” May this translation not be “the doctrinal guide to union”?[369]

Among Cydones’ orations may be noted two “deliberative” orations

(συμβουλευτικοι) which picture the depressed mood of the people of Constantinople before the Turkish danger, speak of the emigration to western Europe, and urge the Greeks and Latins to unite their forces against the common enemy.[370]

But of greatest importance for the cultural history of the fourteenth century is Cydones’ voluminous correspondence. Most of his letters are as yet unpublished; of 447

only 51 have been printed. Among his correspondents may be noted Manuel II (32

letters), John Cantacuzene, with whom he was on very friendly terms (11 letters), and a great many other eminent persons of his epoch.[371]

Until all his letters are available for study neither Cydones’ biography nor a full list of his works can be attempted. Moreover, without attentive and detailed study of this new material the history of Greek civilization during the last centuries of Byzantium cannot be fully known or adequately appreciated. This study would not only concern Greek civilization, but also throw new light on the cultural relations between Byzantium and the Italian Renaissance, with which Cydones was so closely associated.

One of the best representatives of the Italian Renaissance at the end of the fourteenth century, Coluccio Salutati, wrote Cydones a long and eulogistic letter.[372]

The unpublished correspondence of the patriarch of Constantinople, Athanasius I, who under Andronicus II Palaeologus twice occupied the patriarchal throne (1289-1293 and 1304-1310), apparently may supply much interesting material for the political, religious, and social conditions of the Empire of his day. This may be deduced from some specimens of his letters already published.[373]

To the partisans of union belonged also the famous Bessarion of Nicaea, member of the Council of Florence and later cardinal of the Roman church. But the significance of his activity and personality goes far beyond theological literature, where he is represented by some dogmatic treatises, written from the Latin point of view, and therefore will be discussed and estimated in the section on the problem of Byzantium and the Renaissance.

The opponents of the union had their writers too, but they cannot be compared with such eminent partisans of the union as Cydones or Bessarion. Gregory of Cyprus (his secular name was George), patriarch under Andronicus II, the chief although not always a successful adversary of John Beccus, a man, to quote a contemporary source,

“known by his scholarship,”[374] left some writings of dogmatic character, in which he attempted to solve from the Greek point of view the problem of the Procession of the Holy Ghost. Gregory’s rhetorical essays are of great importance. Marcus (Mark) Eugenicus, metropolitan of Ephesus, who refused to sign the act of the union at the Council of Ferrara-Florence, wrote some small compilations of polemic character, for example an essay against Bessarion, which justify including him among the spokesmen for the Greek national standpoint concerning the union.[375]

Finally, the last great polemist of the Byzantine church and the first patriarch of Constantinople under the Turkish power, Gennadius Scholarius (his secular name was George), was a good scholar in theology and philosophy. He also took part in the Council of Ferrara-Florence, where he first advocated union but eventually, particularly influenced by Marcus of Ephesus, went over to the antiunionists. He was a very productive writer, a versatile theologian and scholar whose numerous works embraced almost all branches of literature. He wrote a number of polemic essays. His philosophical works, which originated from his dispute with Gemistus Plethon on Aristotelianism and Platonism, relate him to the humanists and caused a Greek scholar, Sathas, to call him “the last Byzantine and the first Hellene.”[376] His Lament on the Misfortunes of My Life contains historical details on the life and works of the author and the situation of the Greek Church in the first years of the Muhammedan domination. He wrote also a brief historical essay, a Chronography, published for the first time in 1935 from his own autograph manuscript. Though the Chronography occupies only nine pages of printed text, it covers all the years from the time of Adam to the year 1472.[377]

The Hesychast movement also produced a number of writers on both sides,

beginning with its founder, Gregorius of Sinai. The leading spirit of the Hesychasts, Gregorius Palamas, was also the author of some dogmatic essays and many orations, sixty-six of which were found in one of the Meteora monasteries in Thessaly.[378] The literary activity of Nicephorus Gregoras, a violent opponent of the Hesychasts, has already been discussed. Another opponent of Palamas, John Cyparissiotes, who lived in the second half of the fourteenth century, may be mentioned as the author of Εκθεσις

στοιχειωδης ρησεων θεολογικων, or Expostio materiaria eorum quae de Deo a theologis dicuntur, the first attempt at dogmatics according to the pattern of western Scholasticism.[379]

One of the great theologians, one of the best Byzantine writers of the fourteenth century, and one of the very talented mystics of the eastern church, Nicholas Cabasilas, also belongs to the fourteenth century. The basts of Cabasilas’ ideas was, as in western European mysticism, the works of the so-called Dionysius Pseudo-Areopagite, who wrote probably at the end of the fifth and the beginning of the sixth century. Byzantine mysticism passed through an important evolution in the seventh century, thanks to Maximus Confessor, who freed the mysticism of the Pseudo-Areopagite from its neo-Platonic elements and reconciled it with the doctrine of the Eastern Orthodox church.

Maximus’ influence was still felt by the mystic writers of the fourteenth century, with Nicholas Cabasilas at their head.

Nicholas Cabasilas belongs to the writers who are very little known and

unsatisfactorily studied, for many of his writings are unpublished. Quite a number of these, especially orations and letters, are preserved in several manuscripts of the National Library of Paris, one of which has been used by the Roumanian historian Tafrali in his monograph on Thessalonica.[380] In a study of Cabasilas’ doctrine two essays are important: “Seven words on the Life in Christ” (De vita in Christo), and “The Interpretation of the Sacred Liturgy” (Sacrae liturgiae interpretatio).[381] A discussion of Cabasilas’ doctrine with its thesis “To live in Christ is the very union with Christ”

would go far afield; but one may certainly say that Cabasilas’ literary work in Byzantine mysticism, on its own merits as well as in connection with the Hesychast movement and the western European mystic movements, deserves an honorable place in the cultural history of Byzantium in the fourteenth century, and should attract the attention of scholars, who have hitherto quite wrongly neglected this interesting writer. Scholars vary in their definition of Cabasilas’ mysticism, and some of them even declare that he cannot be recognized as a mystic at all.[382] Cabasilas’ correspondence deserves publication. According to the French scholar Guilland his letters are written in an easy and elegant, though sometimes over-refined, style, and contain new and interesting data.[383]

Philosophy is represented in the Palaeologian epoch by the famous George Gemistus Plethon.[384] Filled with enthusiasm for ancient Hellenism, an admirer of Plato, whom he knew thoroughly through neo-Platonism, a dreamer who thought to create a new religion by means of the gods of ancient mythology, Plethon was a real humanist and intimately connected with Italy. Interest in ancient philosophy, especially in Aristotle and, beginning with the eleventh century, in Plato, had never been discontinued in Byzantium. In the eleventh century Michael Psellus, in the twelfth John Italus, in the thirteenth Nicephorus Blemmydes had devoted a considerable part of their time to philosophy, Psellus particularly to Plato, the others to Aristotle. The struggle between the two philosophical movements, Aristotelian and Platonic, which is so characteristic of the Middle Ages in general, was strongly felt in Byzantium during the Hesychast quarrel. Therefore the way was well prepared for the extremely interesting personality of Gemistus Plethon.

Plethon received his elementary education at Constantinople and spent the greater part of his life, almost a century long, at Mistra, the cultural center of the Despotat of Morea. He accompanied Emperor John VIII to the Council of Ferrara-Florence. Plethon died at Mistra, probably in 1450. In 1465 an Italian general and patron of letters, of the famous family of Malatesta, captured Sparta from the Turks and transported Plethon’s ashes to the small Italian city of Rimini, where they now repose in the church of San Francisco.[385]

The aim of Plethon’s philosophical works was to explain the significance of Platonic philosophy as compared with Aristotelian. Plethon opened a new phase in the struggle between Aristotelianism and Platonism. He brought to Italy his knowledge of Plato and his enthusiasm and produced a striking impression upon Cosimo Medici and other Italian humanists. Indeed he initiated the idea of founding the Platonic Academy at Florence.

In this city Plethon wrote the treatise “On the difference between Aristotle and Plato,” in which he endeavored to prove the superiority of his favorite philosopher over Aristotle. The stay of the Byzantine philosopher at Florence is one of the most important episodes in the history of the transplantation of Greek classical learning to Italy and especially of the revival of Platonic philosophy in the West.[386] Plethon’s chief piece of work was a kind of Utopia, “A Treatise on the Laws” (Νομων συγγραφη), which unfortunately does not exist in full. On the one hand, it was an attempt, interesting as indicating a tendency of the epoch but of course doomed to failure, to restore paganism on the ruins of Christianity by establishing neo-Platonic philosophy; on the other hand, it was designed to give mankind ideal living conditions. In order to find in what men’s happiness consists, Plethon judged it necessary to understand as thoroughly the nature of man himself as the system of the universe of which man forms part. Plethon also submitted plans to Manuel II for the restoration of the Peloponnesus.

In his significance and influence Plethon goes far beyond the confines of the cultural history of Byzantium, and if only for this reason deserves the deepest attention. As his activity and importance have not yet been fully estimated, the significance of Gemistus Plethon is one of the most fascinating themes for the historian interested in the cultural history of the later Byzantine Empire.[387]

In rhetoric, which is often connected with philosophy, several writers may be specially remembered. Gregorius (George) of Cyprus, a patriarch under Andronicus the Elder, composed an interesting and beautifully written autobiography.[388] Nicephorus Chumnos, a contemporary and disciple of Gregorius of Cyprus, wrote a number of theological, philosophical, and rhetorical essays and left a collection of 172 letters. In his philosophical essays he is one of the most ardent and skillful defenders of Aristotle.

Chumnos was in correspondence with almost all the personalities of his epoch who were known in politics, religion, or literature. Though inferior in intelligence, originality, and knowledge to his master, Gregorius of Cyprus, Chumnos is not without distinct significance for the Byzantine and Italian Renaissance of his epoch. “By his love of antiquity, passionate, though a little servile, and by the variety of his knowledge Chumnos heralds Italian humanism and the western Renaissance.”[389]

Finally, the works of Mazaris — the imitation of Lucian, The Sojourn of Mazaris in Hades, and A Dream After the Return to Life, as well as his letters on Peloponnesian affairs of the early fifteenth century — afford, in spite of the small literary talent of their author, important material on the problem of the imitation of Lucian in Byzantine literature, and give interesting details on the Byzantine culture of the time.

In philology the Palaeologian epoch produced not a few interesting writers who, in their tendencies and ideas, are forerunners of a new intellectual era and are, as Krumbacher said, less closely connected with their Byzantine predecessors, for example Photius or Eustathius of Thessalonica, than they are with the first representatives of the classic renaissance in the west.[390] But here is one side of the work of the philologists of the Palaeologian epoch for which they are reproached, and not without reason, by classical scholars. This is their treatment of classical texts. While the commentators and copyists of the eleventh and twelfth centuries preserved the manuscript tradition of the Alexandrian and Roman time almost intact, the philologists of the Palaeologian epoch began to remodel the text of ancient authors according to their preconceived ideas of the “purity” of Hellenic language or sometimes in the style of new meters. This tendency has caused classical scholars to refer, when it was possible, to manuscripts of the pre-Palaeologian epoch. However vexatious this practice may have been, it must be judged by the conditions of the time. The philologists were beginning to be dissatisfied with the purely mechanical methods of their predecessors and were seeking, though rudely and awkwardly, to express their own creative tendencies.

Among the philologists was the monk Maximus Planudes (his secular name was Manuel), a contemporary of the two first Palaeologi, who devoted his leisure to science and teaching. He visited Venice as a Byzantine envoy, and was closely related to the cultural movement then rising in the West, especially owing to his knowledge of the Latin language and literature. An assiduous teacher, Planudes was the author of some grammatical essays, and the collection of more than 100 of his letters portrays his intellectual personality as well as his scholarly interests and occupations. Besides historical and geographical extracts compiled from the works of ancient writers, Planudes left translations of Latin authors such as Cato the Elder, Ovid, Cicero, and Caesar. He is perhaps best known in western Europe for his edition of selections from Greek authors. The vast number of existing manuscripts of his translations shows that, in the earlier days of humanism, they often served as texts for the teaching of Greek in the West. At the same time, his numerous translations from Latin into Greek greatly contributed to the cultural rapprochement between East and West in the Renaissance epoch.[390a]

Planudes’ disciple and friend, Manuel Moschopulus (Moschopulos), a contemporary of Andronicus II, is, like his teacher, of great significance in determining the characteristics of Byzantine learning at the end of the thirteenth and beginning of the fourteenth centuries as well as for the transmission of classical studies in the West. His Grammatical Questions and Greek Dictionary were, along with Planudes’ translations, favorite textbooks for the study of Greek in the West; in addition, his commentaries on a number of classical writers and his collected letters afford interesting material, which has not yet been adequately studied or estimated.

A contemporary of Andronicus II, Theodore Metochites, is sometimes remembered in the history of Byzantine literature in connection with philology.[391] But his wide and many-sided activities go far beyond the modest confines of philology. In the section on the Empire of Nicaea he has been mentioned as the author of a panegyric on Nicaea. Well-educated, an authority on the classical authors, an admirer of Plutarch and Aristotle and especially of Plato, whom he called “Olympus of wisdom,” “a living library,” and “Helicon of the Muses,”[392] a talented statesman, and first minister under Andronicus II, Theodore Metochites is an exceedingly interesting type of Byzantine humanist of the first half of the fourteenth century. This man of learning and distinguished statesman had exceptional influence in state affairs, and he enjoyed the complete confidence of the Emperor. His contemporary Nicephorus Gregoras wrote: “From morning to evening he was wholly and most eagerly devoted to public affairs, as if scholarship were absolutely irrelevant to him; but late in the evening, after having left the palace, he became absorbed in science to as high a degree as if he were a scholar with absolutely no connection with any other affairs.”[393] On the basis of his political opinions, which he sometimes expressed in his works, Sathas drew an interesting conclusion: inclined neither to democracy nor aristocracy, he had a political ideal of his own, a sort of constitutional monarchy. Diehl remarked; “It is not the least mark of originality in this Byzantine of the fourteenth century that he cherished such dreams under the absolute regime of the basileus pledged to the theory of divine right.”[394] Of course the history of Byzantine political theory has not yet been told.

But this example plainly shows that “the history of political ideas in Byzantium is not a tedious repetition of the same things. It had life and it had development.”[395] More recent investigation, however, makes it probable that Metochites’ statement was not a practical political theory but an interpretation of a Platonic idea in the spirit of neo-Platonism.[396]

During the revolution which dethroned Andronicus II, Theodore lost position, money, and home, and was confined in prison. On account of a dangerous illness he was allowed to end his days in the Constantinopolitan monastery of the Chora (the present-day mosque Qahriye-jami). When he was still in power, he had restored the monastery, which was old and in a state of decay, supplied it with a library, and adorned it with mosaics. Today, among other beautiful mosaics preserved in the mosque, one may see, over the main door from the inner narthex to the church, a representation of the enthroned Christ and at His feet the kneeling figure of Theodore Metochites in the gorgeous dress of one of the highest Byzantine dignitaries holding a model of the church in his hand; his name is on the mosaic. He died there in 1332.

The famous Nicephorus Gregoras, who was among his pupils, in his writings has portrayed the personality of his master in a detailed and enthusiastic fashion.[397] His numerous and various works of which many are unpublished and very little studied —

philosophical and historical essays, rhetorical and astronomical writings, poetry and numerous letters to eminent contemporaries — place Theodore Metochites along with Nicephorus Gregoras and Demetrius Cydones as one of the most brilliant Byzantine humanists of the fourteenth century. The most recent investigator defined the work of Metochites as prodigious and various, and styles him “probably the greatest writer of the fourteenth century and one of the greatest writers of Byzantine literature.”[398]

His philosophical studies cause some scholars (for example, Sathas and later Th.

Uspensky) to consider Metochites a forerunner of the Byzantine Platonists of the fifteenth century in general and of Gemistus Plethon in particular.[399]

Of all his works, the best known is Commentaries and Moral Judgments, usually known as Miscellanies (Miscellanea philosophies et historica). It is a sort of encyclopedia, “an inestimable mine of Metochites’ ideas,” which gives the reader grounds to admire his vast and profound erudition. Metochites cited and, in all probability, had read over seventy Greek writers. Synesius seems to have been his principal source and his favorite author.[400] In his works are scattered many very important historical records on the history not only of Byzantium, but also of neighboring peoples; an example is his detailed account of his embassy to the tsar of Serbia in 1298 to negotiate for the marriage of one of the daughters of Andronicus II.[401]

Metochites wrote twenty poems, of which only two are published. The first one, of 1355 lines, is a long description of his own life and of the monastery of Chora; the second poem is another description of that monastery;[402] the other eighteen poems, which are not yet published, have been analyzed, and they contain a great deal of information on the author’s life and on the historical events of his time.[403] In the nineteenth poem Metochites gave a detailed description of his palace with its riches, comfort, and beauty,[404] which he lost during the revolution of 1328. His poems are written in a polished style which is sometimes not easy to understand. But this was not his peculiarity alone; many Byzantine writers, both of prose and poetry, wrote in a style which lacked clarity and needed commentaries. From their point of view the subtlest style had most value.

Metochites also left some letters; only four of them exist, and they are of no great importance. In all likelihood his other letters were destroyed by his enemies.[405]

Metochites’ role in art is also very important; this importance is due particularly to the mosaics of the Chora. He was right when he expressed the hope that his work in the field of art would secure to him “a glorious memory among posterity until the end of the world.”[406]

Without doubt, one of the most important problems for research in the history of the Palaeologian renaissance is the whole work of Theodore Metochites. There is still much to be done. His greatness as a man and his importance in the cultural movement of the fourteenth century is just beginning to be recognized. His writings must first be completely published and studied, and only then will it be possible to estimate adequately a great man in a great cultural epoch.

Among the philologists under Andronicus II may be mentioned Thomas Magister, who came from the literary circle of Moschopulus, Theodore Metochites, and Gregoras, and was the author of many scholia on ancient writers, orations, and letters, and whose literary work deserves to be better known than it is now.[407] Another philologist of the same time was Demetrius Triklinius, an excellent text critic, who, as Krumbacher said,[408] may be placed on a level with some modern editors, and a high authority on ancient authors, such as Pindar, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes, and Theocritus.

In jurisprudence there belongs to the epoch of the Palaeologi the last important juridical work which has preserved its vital significance to the present. It is a great compilation written by a jurist and Judge of Thessalonica in the fourteenth century, Constantine Harmenopulus, known by the title of Hexabiblos (εξαβιβλος), for it is divided into six books, or “Promptuarium” (προχειρον νομων, manuale legum). This compilation contains civil and criminal law with some supplements, for example, the very well-known Rural Code. The author used the earlier legislative works, the Prochiron, the Basilics, the Novels, as well as the Ecloga, Epanagoge, and some others.[409] In connection with the question of the sources of the Hexabiblos, there has been pointed out a very important problem which has not yet been satisfactorily elucidated. It was shown that Harmenopulus used several sources in very old versions, without the additions and alterations that were made by the legislative commission of Justinian the Great;[410] in other words, the Hexabiblos offers valuable material for critical study on the sources of the Justinian Code, the original form of altered texts, and the traces of the so-called classical Roman Law in the juridical works of Byzantium.

After 1453 the Hexabiblos of Harmenopulus became widespread in the West, and the humanists studied attentively and carefully that juridical work of fallen Byzantium. The compilation of Harmenopulus is still in use in judicial practice in present-day Greece and Bessarabia.[411]

Several medical treatises showing Arabic influence belong to the period of the Palaeologi. A medical manual of the end of the thirteenth century had considerable influence even on western medicine and was used as a textbook by the faculty of medicine in Paris until the seventeenth century. The complete lack of originality in Byzantine medicine, however, has been repeatedly pointed out. A French professor of medicine who was particularly interested in Byzantine times remarked: “If one wished to deal with original works [on medicine], he would have nothing to record, and the page devoted to this more than millenarian period would remain blank.”[412] The study of mathematics and astronomy also flourished under the Palaeologi, and many of the versatile and encyclopaedic men already mentioned devoted part of their time to the exact sciences, drawing their material from the ancient works of Euclides and Ptolemy as well as from Persian and Arabic writings, the greater part of which, in their turn, were based upon Greek sources.

Poetry was represented under the Palaeologi by Manuel Holobolus and Manuel Philes. Holobolus’ poetry has usually been estimated as artificial and unoriginal, seeking its subjects in the sphere of court interests, and therefore conventional and sometimes unpardonably fulsome and subservient.[413] But more recent investigation shows that this judgment is erroneous; the poems, it is true, describe the magnificence and brilliance of court ceremonies, but show no personal flattery or subservience towards the emperor.[414] Holobolus was also the author of an encomium of the Emperor Michael VIII.[415] Manuel Philes, whose life was one of extreme misery, was forced to use his literary talent to get daily bread; sometimes, accordingly, he stooped to every kind of flattery and sycophancy. In this respect he may be compared with Theodore Prodrome of the twelfth century.

The last great literary figure of the fourteenth century is Theodore Meliteniotes.

Several persons of this name are known who lived at the end of the thirteenth and at the beginning of the fourteenth century; therefore it is rather difficult to distinguish who among them wrote a work ascribed only to Meliteniotes.[416] However, it is certain that Theodore Meliteniotes, who lived in the fourteenth century, was the author of an astronomical work, the most vast and most scientific of the entire Byzantine epoch, as well as of a long allegorical poem in 3062 “political” verses, entitled Concerning Prudence (Εις την σωφροσυνην).[417] A very interesting question has recently been raised as to whether or not Meliteniotes’ poem was composed under the direct influence of Boccaccio’s L’Amorosa Visione.[418] This example may illustrate once more the importance of cultural exchanges between Byzantium and Italy in the epoch of the Palaeologi. Some parallels between Concerning Prudence and the famous legendary Pèlerinage de Charlemagne have recently been pointed out.[419]

Some very interesting literary documents written m the spoken language of the Palaeologian epoch have been preserved. The Greek version of the Chronicle of Morea, more than nine thousand verses in length, which has already been evaluated from the historical point of view in connection with the conquest of the Peloponnesus by the Latins, gives an interesting specimen of the Greek spoken language of the time, which had already absorbed a number of words and phrases from the tongues of the Roman conquerors. The problem of the original language of the Chronicle is still under debate: some scholars hold to the French version as the original, others to the Greek; more recently the opinion has been expressed that the original text was Italian, probably in the Venetian dialect.[420] In my own opinion, the original text is Greek. The author of the Greek version is usually regarded as a Hellenized Frank who lived at about the time of the events described and who was well acquainted with Peloponnesian affairs.

To the same epoch belongs a romance in verse (about four thousand verses)

“Lybistros and Rhodamne,” which strongly resembles, in plot and ideas, the romance,

“Belthandros and Chrysantza.” The plot is briefly: Lybistros learns in a dream that Rhodamne is his predestined wife; he finds her in the person of an Indian princess, seeks for her love, and finally, victorious in single combat over his rival, wins her as his wife. Thanks to magic charms, the rival carries off Rhodamne, who at last, after many adventures, is safely reunited to Lybistros.[421] In this romance the blending of Frankish culture with Eastern living conditions is to be emphasized. While in

“Belthandros and Chrysantza” the Frankish culture is still quite distinct from the Greek, in “Lybistros” the Frankish culture has deeply penetrated the Byzantine soil; but, in turn, it is beginning to yield to Greek influence. Nevertheless, despite the Latin influence, this poem is much more than an imitation of a Western model. Diehl said: “If the society described seems to be penetrated with certain Latin elements, it keeps, as a whole, a clearly Byzantine color.”[422] The original version of the romance belongs to the fourteenth century. The romance “Lybistros and Rhodamne” exists in a later revised version.

Probably to the fifteenth century belongs the Greek version of a Tuscan poem The Romance of Fiorio and Biancifiore (Il cantare di Fiorio e Biancifiore), dating from the fourteenth century. The Greek version contains about 2000 lines in popular Greek and in “political” meter. The Greek text does not give any indication as to the Greek poet.

Krumbacher thought that the author of the version was a Hellenized Frank,[423] that is to say, a member of the Catholic religion. But this statement is now regarded as erroneous, and probably the anonymous author of the Greek version was an Orthodox Greek.[424] The Greek version of the “Romance of Phlorias and Platzia Phlore”

(Φλωριου και Πλατζια Φλωρης) is of great interest as far as the popular Greek of the Palaeologian epoch is concerned.

Probably at the beginning of the fifteenth century originated the poem, The Byzantine Achilleid, also written in political meter. In spite of the classical title calling to mind the Trojan war and Homer, the poem has very little to do with Homer. The scene is laid in a setting of Frankish feudalism. The personality of the hero of the poem, Achilles, is influenced by another Byzantine epic hero, Digenes Akrites. “Achilles is Digenes baptised under a classical name.”[425] It is not clear whether the author of the Achilleid was acquainted with one of the versions of the Byzantine epic, or whether he drew his similar episodes from the sources common to both poems, i.e. popular songs.

The question cannot be definitely decided; but some parallels in both texts make the first assumption more probable.[426] The poem ends with the death of Achilles in Troy at the hands of Paris and Deiphobos, and the sack of the city by the Hellenes in revenge for his death.

A striking rise in art, at first sight rather unexpected considering the general situation of the Empire under the Palaeologi, must also be emphasized. The revival of Byzantine art under the Palaeologi, which produced such work as the mosaics of Qahriye-jami, Mistra, Athos, and Serbia, was so sudden and incomprehensible that scholars have advanced various hypotheses to explain the sources of the new forms of art. The followers of the so-called “western” hypothesis, taking into consideration western influence on Byzantine life in all its aspects since the Fourth Crusade, compared the Byzantine monuments with the Italian frescoes of trecento in general and with those of Giotto and some other artists in particular, who were living in Italy when the first productions of art of the eastern renaissance under the Palaeologi appeared. They came to the conclusion that the Italian masters of trecento might have influenced Byzantine art, and that this was the explanation of the new forms in the East. The western hypothesis, however, cannot be accepted, because an exactly opposite situation, that is, Byzantine influence upon Italian art, rather than Italian influence upon the art of the Byzantine Empire, has now been proved to exist.

The second or “Syrian” hypothesis, advanced at the beginning of the twentieth century by Strzygowski and Th. Schmidt, consists of the assumption that the best achievements of Byzantine art under the Palaeologi were mere copies of old Syrian originals, i.e. of originals which, in truth, from the fourth century to the seventh, furnished not a few new forms adopted by Byzantine art. If one accepts this theory, there is no renaissance of Byzantine art in the fourteenth century, or any originality, or any creative power of Byzantine masters of that epoch; in this case all is reduced to good copies from some good old models very unsatisfactorily known. This theory, which N. Kondakov called “archaeological sport,”[427] has found a few adherents.[428]

In the first edition of his Manual of Byzantine Art, published in 1910, Ch. Diehl rejected both these theories and saw the roots of the renaissance of art under the Palaeologi in the general cultural rise so characteristic of their epoch, and in the awakening of a very vivid feeling of Hellenic patriotism, as well as in the gradual rising of new currents in Byzantine art which had appeared in Byzantium as early as the eleventh century, i.e. beginning with the time of the Comnenian dynasty. Therefore,

“for him who examines the matter attentively, the great artistic movement of the fourteenth century is no sudden and unexpected phenomenon; it owed its being to the natural evolution of art in conditions particularly favorable and vigorous; and if foreign influences partially contributed to its brilliant flowering, it drew from itself, from the deep roots embedded in the past, its strong and original qualities.”[429]

In 1917 D. Aïnalov criticized Diehl’s solution from the point of view of method.

Diehl did not base his conclusions upon direct analysis of the works of art, but drew it indirectly from data on the development of literature, science, and so on. Aïnalov believed that the problem of the origin of the new forms of Byzantine painting in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries could be solved only by the comparative method.

Examination of the geographical and architectural peculiarities of the mosaics of Qahriye-jami at Constantinople and of the Church of St. Mark at Venice caused Aïnalov to emphasize a remarkable relationship between these forms and those of the landscape painting of the primitive Italian Renaissance. He came to the conclusion that Byzantine painting of the fourteenth century cannot be considered a genuine phenomenon of Byzantine art; it is only the reflection of a new development in Italian painting, which in its turn was based on earlier Byzantine art. “Venice is one of the intermediary centers of this retro-action of the art of the earlier Renaissance upon the later Byzantine art.”[430]

Th. Schmidt maintained that amid the general economic and political decay of the Empire under the Palaeologi a real renaissance of art in the fourteenth century was impossible.[431] In this connection Diehl justly remarked; “This hypothesis may seem ingenious; but it is a matter of affirmation rather than of proof.”[432] In 1925 Dalton, independently of Aïnalov, wrote of the fourteenth century: “The new things out of Italy which appear in Serbia, at Mistra, or in Constantinople are very largely old Greek things returning home, superficially enhanced by a Sienese attractiveness. This being so, we cannot properly regard the painting either of the Slavs or of the Byzantine Greeks in the fourteenth century as dominated by Western influence. Italy had touched with animation and grace an art essentially unchanged.”[433] Finally, taking into consideration the recent works of Millet, Bréhier, and Aïnalov, Diehl in the second edition of his Manual of Byzantine Art summed up the matter by calling the fourteenth century a true renaissance. It developed with magnificent fullness and complete continuity the trends of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, so that between the past and the fourteenth century there is no break. At this point Diehl repeated the passage of his first edition already quoted.[434]

In 1930 L. Bréhier wrote; “The Byzantine art of the epoch of the Palaeologi appears as a synthesis between the two spiritual forces which dominate the history of Byzantium: classicism and mysticism.”[435] In 1938 A. Grabar stated that the progress (l’essor) of Byzantine art under the Palaeologi was particularly remarkable; under them the last renaissance of arts, specifically of painting, manifested itself both within the Empire which was finally reduced to Constantinople and its suburbs, and in the autonomous Greek principalities (Sparta, Trebizond) and the Slavonic kingdoms which followed the example of Byzantium.[436] After all that has been said, the following statement seems incomprehensible: “The story of Byzantine art really ends with the sack of Constantinople by the Franks in 1204.”[437] On the contrary, the Byzantine Renaissance is a rich, fruitful field, worthy of more investigation.[438]

Many monuments of the renaissance of Byzantine art under the Palaeologi survive.

Among the buildings, the churches are most notable, in particular seven in Peloponnesian Mistra, several on Mount Athos, many in Macedonia, which in the fourteenth century was under the power of Serbia, and a number in Serbia itself. The brilliant flowering of mosaic work and fresco painting under the Palaeologi resulted in a remarkable legacy: the mosaics of Qahriye-jami in Constantinople, already referred to, and many frescoes of Mistra, Macedonia, and Serbia. On Mount Athos are mosaics and frescoes of the late thirteenth, the fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, but the full flower of Athenian art belongs to the sixteenth century. The famous Byzantine painter Manuel Panselinos of Thessalonica (Salonika), the “Raphael” or “Giotto of Byzantine painting,” probably lived in the first half of the sixteenth century; some of his work is perhaps still to be seen on Mount Athos, but on this point some uncertainty exists.”[439]

Many icons and illuminated manuscripts dating from the epoch of the Palaeoiogi have also been preserved. An example is a famous manuscript of Madrid of the fourteenth century containing the chronicle of John Scylitzes with about 600

interesting miniatures reflecting the history of Byzantium from 811 to the middle of the eleventh century — the period Scylitzes covered.[440] Two Parisian manuscripts, one belonging to the fourteenth century with a miniature of John Cantacuzene presiding at the Hesychast council, and the other to the beginning of the fifteenth century with a miniature of Manuel II, have already been mentioned.[441]

The art of the Palaeologian epoch and its reflections in the Slavonic countries in general and Russia in particular have not yet been thoroughly studied; the evidence on this period has not yet been completely collected or studied, and in some cases not even discovered. Discussing the study of icon painting of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries N. P. Kondakov wrote in 1909; “To speak generally, we enter a dark forest in which the paths are unexplored.”[442] A more recent scholar of Byzantine painting of the fourteenth century, D. V. Aïnalov, added: “In this forest, however, some pioneers have already beaten paths in various directions and made some important positive observations.”[443] In 1919 G. Millet, in his book on the medieval Serbian churches, endeavored to refute the common opinion that Serbian art was nothing but a branch of Byzantine art and to prove that Serbian art had an original character of its own.[444]

Summarizing what has been said of the cultural movement under the Palaeologi, one must first of all certify to a great strength, activity, and variety not present in earlier times, when the general situation of the Empire seemed much more favorable to cultural achievement. This rise, of course, must not be considered sudden, without roots in the past. These roots are to be seen in the cultural rise of Byzantium in the epoch of the Comneni; and the connecting link between these two periods, separated from each other by the fatal Latin domination, is the cultural life of the Empire of Nicaea with Nicephorus Blemmydes and the enlightened emperors of the Lascarid dynasty. In spite of all the difficulties of the political situation the Nicaean emperors succeeded in sheltering and developing the best intellectual spirit of the epoch to transmit it to the restored Empire of the Palaeologi. Under the latter the cultural life flowered abundantly, especially at the end of the thirteenth and in the fourteenth century. Thereafter, under the pressure of Turkish danger, it began to decline in Constantinople, and the best minds of the fifteenth century, such as Bessarion of Nicaea and Gemistus Plethon, transferred their activity to the Peloponnesus, to Mistra, the center resembling some of the smaller Italian centers of the Renaissance and apparently less exposed to Turkish conquest than Constantinople or Thessalonica.

Several times Byzantine cultural interests and problems have been compared with analogous interests and problems of the epoch of the earlier Italian Renaissance. Both Italy and Byzantium were living through a time of intense cultural activity with many common traits and a common origin arising from the economic and intellectual revolution achieved by the crusades. This was not the epoch of an Italian Renaissance or a Byzantine Renaissance but, to use the word in its broad sense and not to limit it to a single nation, the epoch of the Greco-Italian or, generally speaking, southern European Renaissance. Later, in the fifteenth century, in southeastern Europe this rise was ended by the Turkish conquest; in the west, in Italy, general conditions shaped themselves in such a way that the cultural life could develop further and spread to other countries.

Of course, Byzantium had no Dante. The Byzantine Renaissance was bound by the traditions of its past, in which creative spirit and independence had been, subdued by the strict authority of church and state. Formalism and conventionalism were the characteristics of the Byzantine past. Taking into consideration these conditions of Byzantine life, one is amazed by the intensive cultural activity of the Palaeologian period and by the energetic efforts of its best minds to enter the new way of free and independent investigation in literature and art. But the fatal destiny of the Eastern Empire prematurely crushed this literary, scientific, and artistic ardor.[445]

Byzantium and the Italian Renaissance.

In considering what influence was exerted on the Italian Renaissance by the medieval Greek tradition in general and by the Byzantine Greeks in particular, it is important to remember that it was not interest in and acquaintance with classical antiquity that called forth the Renaissance in Italy. On the contrary, the conditions of Italian life which evoked and developed the Renaissance were the real cause of the rise of interest in antique culture.

In the middle of the nineteenth century some historians thought that the Italian Renaissance was called forth by the Greeks who fled from Byzantium to Italy before the Turkish danger, especially at the fall of Constantinople in 1453. For example, a Russian Slavophile of the first half of the nineteenth century, J. V. Kireyevsky, wrote: “When after the capture of Constantinople the fresh and pure air of Hellenic thought blew from the East to the West, and the thinking man in the West breathed more easily and freely, the whole structure of scholasticism collapsed at once.”[446] Obviously, such a point of view is quite untenable if only for no other reason than elementary chronology: the Renaissance is known to have embraced the whole of Italy by the first half of the fifteenth century, and the chief leaders of the so-called Italian humanism, Petrarca and Boccaccio, lived in the fourteenth century.

There are, then, two problems; the influence of the medieval Greek tradition upon the Renaissance and the influence of the Byzantine Greeks upon the Renaissance.

Considering the latter first, what sort of Greeks were those whose names are connected with the epoch of the earlier Renaissance, i.e. the fourteenth century and the very beginning of the fifteenth?

Chronologically, the first to be named is a Greek of Calabria, in southern Italy, Barlaam, who died about the middle of the fourteenth century, who participated in the Hesychast quarrel. He put on the monastic habit in Calabria, changed his name from Bernardo to Barlaam, and spent some time in Thessalonica, on Mount Athos, and in Constantinople. The Emperor, Andronicus the Younger, sent him on an important mission to the West concerning the crusade against the Turks and the union of the churches. After a fruitless journey he returned to Byzantium, where he took part in the religious movement of the Hesychasts, and then went back to the West, where he ended his days. Barlaam is a personality of whom the first humanists often speak, and the scholars of the nineteenth century vary in their opinion of him. At Avignon Petrarca met Barlaam and began to learn Greek with him in order to be able to read Greek authors in the original. In one of his letters Petrarca spoke of Barlaam as follows:

“There was another, my teacher, who, having aroused in me the most delightful hope, died and left me at the very beginning of my studies” (in ipso studiorum lacte). In another letter Petrarca wrote: “He [i.e. Barlaam ] was most excellent in Greek eloquence, and very poor in Latin; rich in ideas and quick in mind, he was embarrassed in expressing his emotions in words.”[447] In a third letter he said: “I always was very anxious to study all of Greek literature and if Fortune had not envied my beginnings and deprived me of an excellent teacher, now I might be something more than an elementary Hellenist.”[448] Petrarca never succeeded in reading Greek literature in the original. Barlaam also had some influence on Boccaccio, who in his work The Genealogy of the Gods (Genealogia deorum) calls Barlaam a man “with a small body but enormous knowledge,” and who puts entire confidence in him in all matters pertaining to Greek scholarship.[449]

The theological and mathematical essays, notes, and orations of Barlaam which are accessible afford no sufficient reason to call him a humanist. In all probability, his writings were unknown to Petrarca; and Boccaccio distinctly says that he “has seen no single one of his works.”[450] Neither is there enough data to testify to his wide education or exceptional knowledge of literature, in other words, no reason to believe that Barlaam possessed enough talent or cultural force to exert a great influence on his most talented and educated Italian contemporaries, the leading spirits of the epoch, such as Petrarca and Boccaccio. Therefore we cannot agree with the exaggerated estimation of Barlaam’s influence upon the Renaissance which appears sometimes in excellent works. For example, a German scholar, G. Körting, observed: “When Barlaam, by his hasty departure from Avignon, had deprived Petrarca of the possibility of deeper knowledge of the Greek tongue and civilization, he destroyed thereby the proud structure of the future and decided for centuries the destiny of the European peoples.

Small causes, great effects!”[451] A Russian scholar, Th. Uspensky, wrote on the same subject: “The vivid conception of the idea and importance of Hellenic studies with which the men of the Italian Renaissance were filled, must be wholly attributed to the indirect and direct influence of Barlaam. Thus, great merit in the history of medieval culture belongs to him … On the basis of real facts, we may strongly affirm that he combined the best qualities of the scholarship then existing.”[452]

The role of Barlaam in the history of the Renaissance was in reality much more modest. He was nothing but a rather imperfect teacher of the Greek language, who could impart the elements of grammar and serve as a dictionary, “containing,” said Korelin, “very inexact information.”[453] The most correct estimation of Barlaam’s significance was given by A. Veselovsky: “The role of Barlaam in the history of earlier Italian humanism is superficial and casual … As a medieval scholastic and enemy of Platonic philosophy, he could share with his Western friends only the knowledge of the Greek language and some fragments of erudition; but he was magnified by virtue of the hopes and expectations in which the genuine evolution of humanism expressed itself and to which he was unable to respond.”[454]

The second Greek who played a considerable role in the epoch of the earlier Renaissance was a pupil of Barlaam, Leontius Pilatus, who like his teacher came from Calabria and who died in the seventh decade of the fourteenth century. Moving from Italy to Greece and back again, passing in Italy for a Greek of Thessalonica and in Greece for an Italian and living nowhere without quarrels, he stayed for three years at Florence with Boccaccio, to whom he taught Greek and gave some information for his Genealogy of the Gods. Both Petrarca and Boccaccio spoke of Leontius in their writings, and depict in a similar way the refractory, harsh, and impertinent character and repulsive appearance of this “man of such bestial manners and strange customs.”[455]

In one of his letters to Boccaccio, Petrarca wrote that Leontius, who left him after many insolent remarks against Italy and the Italians, on his journey sent him a letter “longer and more disgusting than his beard and hair, in which he exalts to the skies hated Italy and vilifies and blames Greece and Byzantium, which he greatly exalted before; then he asks me to call him back to me and supplicates and beseeches more earnestly than the Apostle Peter besought Christ commanding the waters.” In the same letter are the following interesting lines: “And now listen and laugh: among other things, he asks me to recommend him by letter to the Constantinopolitan Emperor, whom I know neither personally nor by name; but he wants this and therefore imagines that [that Emperor]

is as benevolent and gracious to me as the Roman Emperor; as if the similarity of their title identified them, or because the Greeks call Constantinople the second Rome and dare to regard it not only as equal to the ancient, but even as surpassing it in population and wealth.”[456] In his Genealogy of the Gods Boccaccio described Leontius as horribly ugly, always absorbed in his thoughts, rough and unfriendly, but the greatest living authority on Greek literature and an inexhaustible archive of Greek legends and fables.”[457] While he was with Boccaccio, Leontius made the first literary Latin translation of Homer. However, this translation was so unsatisfactory that later humanists judged it desirable to replace it by a new one. Taking into account the fact that Leontius, as Boccaccio stated, was indebted to his teacher Barlaam for much of his knowledge, Th. Uspensky said that “the importance of the latter must rise even higher in our eyes.”[458]

Fully recognizing the considerable influence of Leontius Pilatus on Boccaccio in the study of Greek, nevertheless, in the general history of the Renaissance, the role of Pilatus is reduced to the spreading of the knowledge of the Greek language and literature in Italy by means of lessons and translations. Moreover, the immortality of Boccaccio does not rest upon the material afforded him by Greek literature, but upon an entirely different basis.

Thus, the role in the history of the early humanistic movement of these Greeks who were in origin not Byzantines, but south Italians (Calabrians), is reduced to the mere transmission of technical information on language and literature.

Stress has several times been laid on the fact that Barlaam and Leontius Pilatus came from Calabria, from southern Italy, where the Greek language and tradition continued to live all through the Middle Ages. Regardless of the ancient “Magna Graecia” in southern Italy, whose Hellenic elements had not been entirely absorbed by Rome, the conquests of Justinian in the sixth century had introduced to Italy in general and to southern Italy in particular not a few Greek elements. The Lombards, who shortly after Justinian conquered the greater part of Italy were themselves affected by Greek influence, became to some extent the champions of Hellenic civilization. It is important to examine the evolution of Hellenism in southern Italy and Sicily, the Greek population of which gradually increased. In the sixth and seventh centuries many Greeks were forced to leave their country for southern Italy and Sicily under pressure of Slavonic invasions into Greece.[459] In the seventh century a huge Greek emigration to Sicily and southern Italy took place from the Byzantine regions conquered and devastated by the Persians and Arabs. In the eighth century a vast number of Greek monks came to Italy, escaping the persecution of the iconoclastic emperors. Finally, in the ninth and tenth centuries Greek refugees from Sicily, then being conquered by the Arabs, inundated southern Italy. This was probably the main source of the Hellenization of Byzantine southern Italy, because Byzantine culture there began to flourish only in the tenth century, “as if it were but the continuation and inheritance of the Greek culture of Sicily.”[460] A. Veselovsky, wrote: “Thus, in southern Italy there formed densely populated Greek ethnic islands as well as a people and society united by one language and religion and by a cultural tradition, which was represented by the monasteries. The bloom of that culture embraces the period from the second half of the ninth century to the second half of the tenth; but it also continues later, in the epoch of the Normans … The founding of the most important Greek monasteries in southern Italy belongs to the twelfth century. Their history is the history of south Italian Hellenism.

They had had their heroic period, that of anchorites living in caves and preferring contemplation to reading and writing, as well as the period of well-organized cenobitic institutions with schools of copyists, libraries, and literary activity.”[461] Greek medieval southern Italy produced a number of writers who devoted themselves to composing not only lives of the saints, but also religious poetry; they “were also preserving the traditions of learning.”[462] In the second half of the thirteenth century Roger Bacon wrote the Pope concerning Italy, “in which, in many places, the clergy and people were purely Greek.”[463] An old French chronicler stated of the same time that the peasants of Calabria spoke nothing but Greek.[464] In the fourteenth century, in one of his letters, Petrarca spoke of a certain youth who, on his advice, is to go to Calabria: he wished to go directly to Constantinople, ‘‘but learning that Greece abounding once in great talents now lacks them, he believed my words; hearing from me that in our time in Calabria there were some men thoroughly acquainted with Greek literature … he determined to go there.”[465] Thus, the Italians of the fourteenth century did not need to appeal to Byzantium for elementary technical acquaintance with the Greek language and the beginnings of Greek literature; they had a nearer source, in southern Italy, the source which gave them Barlaam and Leontius Pilatus.

The real influence of Byzantium upon Italy begins at the end of the fourteenth century and continues during the fifteenth century, the time of the real Byzantine humanists, Manuel Chrysoloras, Gemistus Plethon, and Bessarion of Nicaea.

Born in Constantinople about the middle of the fourteenth century, Manuel Chrysoloras enjoyed in his native country the renown of an eminent teacher, rhetorician, and philosopher. A young Italian humanist, Guarino, went to Constantinople on purpose to hear Chrysoloras; the latter taught him Greek, and Guarino began to study Greek authors. Chrysoloras, by order of the Emperor, came on a special political mission to Italy, where his fame had already reached and where he was enthusiastically received. The Italian centers of humanism, in eager rivalry, showered the foreign scholar with invitations, For several years he taught at the University of Florence, where a great group of humanists attended his classes. At the request of Emperor Manuel II, who was at that time in Italy, he removed for a short time to Milan and later on became a professor at Pavia. After a short stay in Byzantium Chrysoloras returned to Italy, and then, in behalf of the Emperor, made a long journey to England, France, and, possibly, Spain, finally entering into close relation with the papal curia.

Sent by the pope to Germany to negotiate about the coming council, he arrived at Constance, where the Council was held, and died there in 1415. Chrysoloras’ chief importance was apparently due to his teaching and to his ability to transmit to his auditors his vast knowledge of Greek literature. His writings in the form of theological treatises, Greek grammar, translations (for example, a literary translation of Plato), and letters, do not justify attributing to him a really great literary talent. But his influence on the humanists was enormous, and they showered upon the Byzantine professor the highest praise and most sincere enthusiasm. Guarino compared him with the sun illuminating Italy which had been sunk in deep darkness, and expressed a wish that thankful Italy should erect in his honor triumphal arches along his way.[466] He is sometimes called “the prince of Greek eloquence and philosophy.”[467] The most eminent men of the new movement were among his pupils. A French historian of the Renaissance, Monnier, recalling the judgments of the humanists on Barlaam and Pilatus, wrote: “Here is no dull intellect, no lousy beard, no coarse Calabrian ready to laugh bestially at the admirable flashes of wit of a Terence. Manuel Chrysoloras is a veritable Greek; he is from Byzantium; he is noble; he is erudite; besides Greek he knows Latin; he is grave, mild, religious, and prudent; he seems to be born for virtue and glory; he is familiar with the latest achievements of science and philosophy; he is a master. This is the first Greek professor who renewed the classical tradition by occupying a chair in Italy.”[468]

But Italy of the fifteenth century was influenced much more deeply and widely by the famous leaders of the Byzantine Renaissance, Gemistus Plethon and Bessarion of Nicaea. The former was the initiator of the Platonic Academy at Florence and the regenerator of Platonic philosophy in the West, and Bessarion was a man of first importance in the cultural movement of the time.

Bessarion was born at the very beginning of the fifteenth century at Trebizond, where he received his elementary education. He was sent to Constantinople for further advance in knowledge, and then he began to study thoroughly the Greek poets, orators, and philosophers. A meeting with the Italian humanist, Filelfo, who was then attending lectures in Constantinople, made Bessarion acquainted with the humanistic movement in Italy, and with the deep interest in ancient literature and art which was then making its appearance there. After taking the monastic habit Bessarion continued his studies in the Peloponnesus, at Mistra, under the guidance of the famous Plethon himself. As the archbishop of Nicaea he accompanied the Emperor to the Council of Ferrara-Florence and greatly influenced the course of the negotiations toward union. Bessarion wrote during the council, “I do not judge it right to separate from the Latins in spite of all plausible reasons.”[469]

During his stay in Italy, he plunged into the intense life of the Renaissance and, not inferior himself to the Italian humanists in talent and education, he came into close contact with them, and, thanks to his opinion on the problem of union, he had also an intimate connection with the papal curia. On his return to Constantinople, Bessarion soon realized that, because of the hostility of the great majority of the Greek population, the union could not be accomplished in the East. At this time he received news from Italy that he had been appointed a cardinal of the Roman church. Feeling the ambiguity of his position in his own country, he yielded to his desire to return to Italy, the center of humanism, and left Byzantium for Italy.

At Rome the house of Bessarion became a center of humanistic intercourse. The most eminent representatives of humanism, such as Poggio and Valla, were his friends.

Valla in reference to Bessarion’s excellent knowledge of both classical languages called him “the best Greek of the Latins and the best Latin of the Greeks” (latinorum graecissimus, graecorum latinissimus).[470] Purchasing books or ordering copies made, Bessarion collected an excellent library comprising the works of the Fathers of the Eastern and Western churches and works of theological thought in general, as well as humanistic literature. Towards the end of his life he bestowed his very rich library upon the city of Venice, where it became one of the chief foundations of the famous present-day library of St. Mark (Bibliotheca Marciana); at the entrance door the portrait of Bessarion may be still seen.

Another idea in which he was greatly interested was that of a crusade against the Turks. At the news of the fall of Constantinople, Bessarion wrote immediately to the Doge of Venice calling his attention to the danger threatening Europe from the Turks and for this reason appealing to him to take arms against them.[471] At that time Europe was unable to understand any other reason. Bessarion died at Ravenna in 1472, whence his body was transported to Rome for a solemn burial.

Bessarion’s literary activity was carried on in Italy. Besides numerous works of theological character concerning union, A Dogmatic Oration, the refutation of Marcus Eugenicus (Mark of Ephesus), and works of polemic and exegesis, Bessarion left translations of some classical authors, among them Demosthenes and Xenophon, and of the metaphysics of Aristotle, works much more characteristic of him as a humanist. An admirer of Plato, Bessarion in his work Against Plato’s Calumniator (In calumniatorem Platonis), succeeded in remaining more or less objective, which cannot be said of the other champions of Aristotelianism and Platonism. Only a short time ago was published Bessarion’s long Encomium (Eulogy) of his native city, Trebizond, which is of great importance from the historical point of view.[472]

Bessarion presents, as his French biographer said, better than anyone else among the eminent men of his time an example of the fusion of the Greek genius with the Latin genius, from which the Renaissance sprang forth. “Bessarion lived on the threshold between two ages. He is a Greek who becomes Latin, … a cardinal who protects scholars, a scholastic theologian who breaks lances in favor of Platonism, an enthusiastic admirer of antiquity who has contributed more than anyone to originating the modern age. He is connected with the Middle Ages by the ideal which he endeavors to realize in the Christian union and the crusade; and he predominates over his age and urges it with ardor into the new ways of progress and the Renaissance.”[473] One of the contemporaries of Bessarion, Michael Apostolius (Apostolios), full of enthusiasm for Bessarion’s personality and talent, made him almost a demigod. In his funeral oration for Bessarion he wrote: “[Bessarion] was the reflection of divine and true wisdom.”[474]

Many of Bessarion’s writings are still not published. An interesting modern tribute is that at the end of the nineteenth century Italy began issuing a Catholic periodical pursuing the aim of the union of the churches, under the title Bessarione.

But Byzantium contributed greatly to the history of the Renaissance not only by implanting the knowledge of the Greek language and literature by lessons and lectures and by the activity of such talented men as Plethon or Bessarion, who opened new horizons to Italy; Byzantium also gave the West a vast number of earlier Greek manuscripts, which contained the best classical authors, not to mention Byzantine texts and the works of the Fathers of the Greek Church.

Italian humanists, guided by the well known bibliophile Poggio, traveled through Italy and western Europe about the fourth decade of the fifteenth century, i.e. the epoch of the Council of Florence, and gathered together almost all the Latin classics now known. After Manuel Chrysoloras, who aroused an enthusiastic veneration for ancient Hellas in Italy, there was evident an intensive movement for the acquisition of Greek books. For this purpose the Italians hoped to use the Byzantine libraries. The Italians who had gone to Byzantium to learn Greek wisdom returned to Italy bringing Greek books. The first of these was an auditor of Chrysoloras in Constantinople, Guarino. What Poggio did for collecting the works of Roman literature, Giovanni Aurispa did for Greek literature: he went to Byzantium and brought from

Constantinople, the Peloponnesus, and the islands no less than 238 volumes, m other words, a whole library comprising the best classical writers.

As, in connection with the Turkish conquest, living conditions in Byzantium were growing harder and more dangerous, the Greeks emigrated in large numbers to the West and carried with them the works of their literature. The accumulation in Italy of the treasures of the classical world owing to conditions in Byzantium, created in the West exceptionally favorable conditions for acquaintance with the remote past of Hellas and her eternal culture. By transmitting classical works to the West and thereby saving them from destruction at the hands of the Turks, Byzantium performed great service for the future destinies of mankind.

Emperors of the Byzantine Empire

324-1453

Constantine the Great (sole emperor), 324-337.

Constantine, 337-340.

Constans, 337-350.

Constantius, 337-361.

Julian the Apostate, 361-363.

Jovian, 363-364.

Valens, 364-378.

Theodosius the Great, 379-395.

Arcadius, 395-408.

Theodosius II the Younger, 408-450.

Marcian, 450-457.

Leo I the Great, 457-474.

Leo II, 474.

Zeno, 474-491.

Anastasius I, 491-518.

Justin I, 518-527.

Justinian I the Great, 527-565.

Justin II, 565-578.

Tiberius II, 578-582.

Maurice, 582-602.

Phocas, 602-610.

Heraclius, 610-641.

Constantine II, 641.

Heraclonas (Heracleon), 641.

Constantine III (Constans II), 641-668.

Constantine IV, 668-685.

Justinian II Rhinotmetus, 685-695.

Leontius, 695-698.

Tiberius III (Apsimar), 698-705.

Justinian II (for the second time), 705-711.

Philippicus Bardanes, 711-713.

Anastasius II (Artemius), 713-715.

Theodosius III, 715-717.

Leo III, 717-741.

Constantine V Copronymus, 741-775.

Leo IV the Khazar (Chazar), 775-780.

Constantine VI, 780-797.

Irene, 797-802.

Nicephorus I, 802-811.

Stauracius, 811.

Michael I Rangabé, 811-813.

Leo V the Armenian, 813-820.

Michael II the Stammerer, 820-829.

Theophilus, 829-842.

Michael III, 842-867.

Basil I, 867-886.

Leo VI the Philosopher (the Wise), 886-912.

Alexander, 912-913.

Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus, 913-959.

Romanus I Lecapenus (coemperor), 919-944.

Stephen and Constantine, Romanus Lecapenus’ sons. Dec. 944-Jan. 945.

Romanus II, 959-963.

Nicephorus II Phocas, 963-969.

John I Tzimisces, 969-976.

Basil II Bulgaroctonus, 976-1025.

Constantine VIII, 1025-1028.

Romanus III Argyrus, 1028-1034.

Michael IV the Paphlagonian, 1034-1041.

Michael V Calaphates, 1041-1042.

Theodora and Zoë, 1042.

Constantine IX Monomachus, 1042-1055.

Theodora, 1055-1056.

Michael VI Stratioticus, 1056-1057.

Isaac I Comnenus, 1057-1059.

Constantine X Ducas, 1059-1067.

Romanus IV Diogenes, 1067-1071.

Michael VII Ducas Parapinakes, 1071-1078.

Nicephorus III Botaniates, 1078-1081.

Alexius I Comnenus, 1081-1118.

John II, 1118-1143.

Manuel I, 1143-1180.

Alexius II, 1180-1183.

Andronicus I, 1182-1185.

Isaac II Angelus, 1185-1195.

Alexius III, 1195-1203.

Isaac (for the second time) and Alexius IV, 1203-1204.

Alexius V Ducas Mourtzouphlos, 1204.

Theodore I Lascaris, 1204-1222.

John III Ducas Vatatzes, 1222-1254.

Theodore II Lascaris, 1254-1258.

John IV, 1258-1261.

Michael VIII Palaeologus, 1261-1282.

Andronicus II, 1282-1328.

Michael (IX), 1295-1320.

Andronicus III, 1328-1341.

John V, 1341-1391.

John VI Cantacuzene, 1341-1354.

Andronicus (IV), 1376-1379.

John (VII), 1390.

Manuel II, 1391-1425.

John VIII, 1425-1448.

Constantine XI, 1449-1453.