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 land-ownership.

            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 recon-

struction 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.