Decline & Fall - Byzantium 03 (4 page)

Matters were finally brought to a head not by any of the chief protagonists but by the Patriarch. Old Cosmas had reluctantly performed the single coronation, but his conscience continued to trouble him; and when, a few days later, he was approached by representatives of Anna Dalassena with strong suggestions that it might be in his best interests to retire in favour of her own nominee - a eunuch named Eustratius Garidas - he exploded in wrath. 'By Cosmas,' he shouted - to swear an oath by one's own name was, in Byzantium, to give it particular solemnity — 'By Cosmas, if Irene is not crowned by my own hands, I will never resign this p
atriarchal throne.' Whether he o
penly committed himself to the obvious corollary of this vow is not recorded; suffice it to say that, on the seventh day after the public proclamation of her husband's accession, the young Empress was duly crowned in St Sophia; and that on
8
May of the same year Cosmas withdrew to the monastery of Callias — to be succeeded, predictably, by the eunuch Garidas.

With this second coronation in a week, the Ducas family knew that it had won; and Alexius had learnt his first lesson. If there had been any emotional ties between himself and his adoptive mother, these were now broken: the Empress Mary agreed to leave the Boucoleon, firstly on condition that she should be given a written guarantee of security, 'inscribed in letters of scarlet and sealed with a golden seal', for herself and Constantine, her son by Michael VII; and secondly that Constantine himself should be made co-Emperor with Alexius. Both these requests were immediately granted; whereupon she and her son retired to the sumptuous mansion adjoining the monastery of the Mangana, built by Constantine IX for his mistress some thirty-five years before.
1
They were accompanied by Isaac Comnenus, to whom — the title of Caesar having already been promised to Nicephorus Melissenus - Alexius had awarded the newly-invented rank of
sebastocrator
y
second only to the two co-Emperors themselves. He himself at once brought his wife back to the Boucoleon, where their married life proved a good deal happier than anyone had expected, ultimately resulting in no fewer than nine children.

But however brightly the sun might shine on the new Emperor's domestic life, on the political horizon the clouds were gathering fast. Within a month of Alexius's coronation, the Norman Robert Guiscard, Duke of Apulia, launched his grand offensive against the Roman Empire.

i
See
Byzantium: The Apogee,
pp. 308-10.

2

The Normans

[1081—91]

This Robert was a Norman by birth, of obscure origin, with an overbearing character and a thoroughly villainous mind; he was a brave fighter, very cunning in his assaults on the wealth and power of great men; in achieving his aims absolutely inexorable, diverting criticism by incontrovertible argument. He was a man of immense stature, surpassing even the biggest men; he had a ruddy complexion, fair hair, broad shoulders, eyes that all but shot out sparks of fire . . . Homer remarked of Achilles that when he shouted his hearers had the impression of a multitude in uproar, but Robert's bellow, so they say, put tens of thousands to flight.

The
Alexiad
I,
1
1

The story of the Normans in South Italy begins around 1015, with a group of some forty young pilgrims in the cave-shrine of the Archangel Michael on Monte Gargano in northern Apulia. Seeing in this underpopulated, unruly land both an opportunity and a challenge, they were easily persuaded by certain Lombard leaders to serve as mercenaries against the Byzantines. Word soon got back to Normandy, and the initial trickle of footloose younger sons in search of wealth and adventure rapidly grew to the point where it became a steady immigration. Fighting now indiscriminately for Lombard and Greek alike, the Normans soon began to exact payment for their services not in gold but in land. In 1030 Duke Sergius of Naples, in gratitude for their support, invested their leader Rainulf with the County of Aversa; thereafter their progress was fast, and in 1053, at Civitate in Apulia, they defeated a vastly superior army, raised and led against them by Pope Leo IX in person.

By this time supremacy among the Norman chiefs had been assumed by the family of one Tancred de Hauteville, a somewhat dim knight in the service of the Duke of Normandy. Of his twelve sons, eight had settled in Italy, five were to become leaders of the front rank and one — Robert, nicknamed Guiscard ('the crafty') - possessed something very
like genius. After Civitate papal policy changed: and in 1059 Robert was invested by Pope Nicholas II with the previously non-existent Dukedoms of Apulia, Calabria and Sicily. Of these territories much of the first two remained subject to Byzantium, while Sicily was still in the hands of the Saracens; but Robert, strengthened by his new legitimacy, could not be checked for long. Two years later he and his youngest brother Roger invaded Sicily, and for the next decade they were able simultaneously to keep up the pressure both there and on the mainland. Bari, as we have seen, had fallen in 1071, and with it the last remnants of Byzantine power in Italy; early the next year Palermo had followed, and the Saracen hold on Sicily was broken for ever. In 1075 it was the turn of Salerno, the last independent Lombard principality. In all Italy south of the Garigliano river the Normans under Robert Guiscard now reigned supreme.

For many centuries already this land had been known as Magna Graecia, and at the time of which we are speaking it was still in spirit far more Greek than Italian. The vast majority of its inhabitants spoke Greek as their native language - as, in one or two remote villages, a few still do today; the Greek rite prevailed in almost all the churches and in most of the monasteries. Apulia and Calabria continued to be known as themes, as they had been in Byzantine days, and many of the more important communities were still headed by officials who retained the old Byzantine titles -
strategos, exarch
or
catapan.
No wonder that the Guiscard, finding himself already successor to the Roman Emperor where his Italian dominions were concerned, should begin to harbour designs on the imperial throne - designs which were unwittingly encouraged by the Byzantines themselves. Already in 1073, he had received two letters from Michael VII suggesting, in return for a military alliance, the marriage of the Emperor's brother, born in the purple
1
and 'so handsome, if one must talk of such qualities, that he might be a statue of the Empire itself, to one - the most beautiful, he was careful to specify - of Robert's daughters. When both these letters went unanswered Michael had written a third, improving his proposal: he now suggested his own newly-born son Constantine as the prospective bridegroom, and went on to offer Robert no fewer than forty-four high Byzantine honours for distribution among his family and friends, carrying with them a total annual grant of two hundred pounds of gold.

1 i.e., born to an Emperor during his reign. To be
porphyrogtnitus
was considered a far greater distinction than that of primogeniture.

The Guiscard had hesitated no longer. There was always an element of uncertainty in the imperial succession; but a son of a ruling Emperor certainly stood a better chance than anyone else, and the opportunity of seeing his own daughter as Empress of Byzantium was not one that he was prepared to miss. The offer of the honours, which would effectively put all his principal lieutenants in receipt of open bribes from Michael, was probably less attractive; but it was a risk worth taking. He had accepted the proposal, and shortly afterwards had bundled off the bride-to-be to Constantinople, there to pursue her studies in the imperial
gynaeceum
until her infant fiance should be of marriageable age. Anna Comnena, writing some years later, rather bitchily implies
1
that young Helena — she had been re-baptized with the Greek name on being received into the Orthodox Church soon after her arrival - proved, despite the Emperor's stipulation, to be a good deal less well-favoured than had been expected, and that her intended husband was as terrified at the prospect of the marriage 'as a baby is of a bogeyman'; but since Anna was herself later betrothed to young Constantine, with whom she was to fall passionately in love, she can hardly be considered an impartial judge.

The overthrow of Michael VII by Nicephorus Botaneiates in 1078 put paid to all Helena's chances of attaining the imperial throne. The ex-Emperor himself, as we have seen, was allowed to retire to a monastery - a welcome translation from his point of view, since the cloister suited his bookish temperament far better than the palace had ever done. The hapless princess, on the other hand, found herself immured in a convent of her own with which she was, we may confidently assume, rather less well pleased. Her father received the news with mixed feelings. His immediate hopes of an imperial son-in-law had been dashed; on the other hand the treatment accorded to his daughter gave him the perfect pretext for intervention. A rebellion in South Italy prevented his taking any immediate action, but by the summer of 1080 he was able to begin preparations in earnest. He had in fact lost nothing by the delay: with every day that passed, the Empire was slipping deeper and deeper into chaos. In its present condition, a well-planned Norman offensive would seem to have every chance of success.

Not being satisfied with the men who had served in his army from the beginning and had experience in battle, he formed a new army, made up of

1
The Alexiad,
I, 12.

recruits without any consideration of age. From all over Lombardy and Apulia he gathered them, old and young, pitiable wretches who had never, even in their dreams, seen a weapon; but were now clad in breastplates and carrying shields, drawing bows (to which they were completely unaccustomed) awkwardly and clumsily and, when ordered to march, usually falling flat on their faces.

Thus Anna Comnena describes Robert's preparations for his new campaign; and all through the autumn and winter the work went on. The fleet was refitted, the army increased in size - though not as dramatically as Anna suggests - and re-equipped. In a mighty effort to stir up enthusiasm among his Greek subjects, the Guiscard had even managed to produce a disreputable and transparently bogus Orthodox monk, who appeared in Salerno at the height of the preparations and gave himself out to be none other than the Emperor Michael in person, escaped from his monastery and trusting in his gallant Norman allies to replace him on his rightful throne. Nobody believed him much; but Robert, professing to be entirely convinced by his claims, persisted in treating him with exaggerated deference throughout the months that followed.

Then, in December, he decided to send an ambassador to Constantinople, with the triple purpose of dema
nding satisfaction from Botanei
ates for the treatment accorded to Helena, gaining the adherence of the considerable number of Normans who were at that time in the imperial service, and winning over the Domestic of the Schools, Alexius Comnenus. He chose a certain Count Radulf of Pontoise — whose mission, however, was not a success. How he fared with the Emperor and his Norman followers is not recorded; but he had immediately fallen under the spell of the Domestic, and at some point on his homeward journey he had heard the news - not, probably, unexpected - of Alexius's
coup.
Finding his master at Brindisi, he innocently tried to persuade him to cancel his expedition altogether. The new Emperor, he assured him, wanted nothing but friendship with the Normans. He had been a good friend of Michael VII and had in fact served as the official guardian of young Constantine - Robert's prospective son-in-law - to whom, despite the latter's youth (he was now seven), he had even offered a share in the government. As for Helena, she was as safe with him as she would have been with her own father. Moreover, continued Radulf, he had with his own eyes seen the ex-Emperor Michael in his monastery; there could consequently be no doubt that the pretender whom Robert kept at his side and by whose claims he set so much store was an arrant impostor.

He should be sent packing at once, and an embassy dispatched to Alexius with offers of peace and friendship. Then Helena might still marry Constantine, or return to the bosom of her family; much bloodshed might be averted; and the army and navy could disperse to their homes.

Robert Guiscard was famous for the violence of his rages; and his fury with the luckless Radulf was fearful to behold. The last thing he wanted was peace with Constantinople. His expeditionary force was lying at Brindisi and Otranto, magnificently equipped and ready to sail; the grandest prize in Europe lay within his grasp. He had lost all interest in the imperial marriage - which, if it were to take place, would no longer be all that imperial anyway. Even less did he want his daughter back at home; he had six others, and she was serving a far more useful purpose where she was. So far as he was concerned the disreputable pretender was still the Emperor Michael — though it was a pity he was not a better actor - and Michael was still the legitimate Emperor. The only important thing now was to embark before Alexius cut the ground yet further from under his feet by returning Helena to him. Fortunately he had already sent his eldest son Bohemund - a magnificent blond giant of twenty-seven - with an advance party across the Adriatic. The sooner he could join him the better.

The great fleet sailed towards the end of May 1081. It carried some thirteen hundred Norman knights, supported by a large body of Saracens, some rather dubious Greeks and several thousand heterogeneous foot-soldiers. At Avlona
1
it was joined by a few Ragusan vessels - the Ragusans, like so many Balkan peoples, were always ready for a crack at the Byzantines - and then moved slowly down the coast to Corfu, where the imperial garrison surrendered at once. Having thus assured a bridgehead, and with it the free passage of reinforcements from Italy, Robert Guiscard could begin fighting in earnest. His first target was Durazzo,
2
capital and chief port of Illyria, from which the eight-hundred-year-old Via Egnatia ran east across the Balkan peninsula through Macedonia and Thrace to Constantinople. Soon, however, it became clear that progress was not going to be so easy. Headin
g northward round the Acrocerau
nian cape — respectfully avoided by the ancients as the seat from which Jupiter Fulminans was wont to launch his thunderbolts — Robert's ships were overtaken by a sudden tempest. Several of them were lost, and no