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| A.A. Vasiliev History of the Byzantine empire IntraText CT - Text |
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.
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 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,