Decline & Fall - Byzantium 03 (67 page)

2
See
Byzantium: The Apogee,
p.
168.

Next, in early July, Gregory XII was prevailed upon to abdicate with honour, and with the promise that he would rank second in the hierarchy, immediately after the future Pope - a privilege that was accorded the more easily in view of the fact that, since he was by now approaching ninety and looked a good deal older, it was not thought likely that he would enjoy it for long. Indeed, two years later he was dead. By then, the anti-Pope Benedict had been deposed in his turn; and with the election of the new, legitimate Pope Martin V in
1417,
the schism was effectively at an end.

Manuel Palaeologus, dreaming as always of the great Crusade that would for ever deliver Byzantium from the Ottoman menace, had followed these developments with interest. For the past few years there had obviously been no possibility of a major papal initiative; at the same time the Council of Constance - which had been instigated by Manuel's old ally King Sigismund of Hungary (since
1410
Emperor of the West) and which, at Sigismund's insistence, had been thrown open to representatives of both the Eastern and the Western Churches - seemed to present an ideal opportunity of making known his anxiety. It was unfortunate that his roving ambassador Manuel Chrysoloras - who had played a major part in the organization of the council - had died at Constance in April
1415,
just six weeks before John's deposition; but Manuel had immediately sent new envoys to the council to raise, once again, the old question of Church union and to propose, as a gesture of good will, that Catholic princesses should be found for his two eldest sons, John and Theodore.

The new discussions on union proved as inconclusive as their predecessors; but the marriages of the two Princes came about just as their father had intended. In
1420
Theodore, Despot of the Morea - at the age of twenty-five still a bachelor - took as his bride Cleope Malatesta, daughter of the Count of Rimini;
1
and on
19
January
1421
Manuel's eldest son John married - with extreme reluctance - Sophia of Montferrat. John's first wife Anna, daughter of the Grand Duke Basil I of Moscow, had died of the plague just three years before, after four years of marriage and at the age of only fifteen; his second attempt at matrimony was even more ill-starred. The unfortunate Sophia was, according to Michael

1
The betrothal was celebrated
by the twenty-year-old Guillaume
Dufay - one of the greatest composers of the fifteenth century - with a motet '
Vasilissa ergo gaude'.
Despite the beauty of the bride and (we are told) her exemplary moral qualities, the marriage was not a success. Theodore developed a deep dislike for her, to the point that at one moment he seriously considered abdicating and entering a monastery in order to be rid of her once and for all.

Ducas, quite shatteringly plain: her figure, it was unkindly said, looked like Lent in front and Easter behind. John quite literally could not bear the sight of her. Respect for his father's wishes prevented him from sending the poor girl straight home again, but he relegated her to a remote corner of the palace and made, we are told, no attempt to consummate the marriage. She eventually escaped in
1426
- with the aid of the Genoese colony in Galata - and returned to her parents, entering a nunnery soon afterwards.

The importance for John Palaeologus of his second wedding was not that it afforded him a bride whom he would have been far better off without, but that it provided a fitting occasion for his coronation as co-Emperor. Remembering his own early difficulties as the result of a disputed succession, Manuel had left no doubt in anyone's mind that he intended his eldest son to succeed him. He had also given John a relentlessly thorough training in the art of good government, going so far as to compose whole treatises on the qualities, both spiritual and moral, necessary for a ruling prince. In
1414
he had left the regency in his hands and in
1416,
to give him further administrative experience, he had sent him to join his brother Theodore in the Morea. When after nearly two years in Greece John had returned to Constantinople at the age of twenty-six, he was as well prepared for the imperial throne as either he or his father could have wished.

From the time of his coronation onward, we find John VIII taking an increasingly prominent part in the conduct of affairs and his influence becoming steadily stronger. Nowhere was this influence more evident than in the Empire's relations with the Ottoman Sultan. Since Mehmet's accession in
1413,
both sides had enjoyed a welcome period of peace; there could be little doubt, however, that the Turks had derived far more benefit from this
detente
- during which Mehmet had done much to repair the damage done by the civil war - than had the Byzantines; and many of the younger generation in Constantinople, including John himself, believed that if the Empire were to have any chance of survival a more aggressive policy would have to be adopted. For as long as Manuel and Mehmet lived, it is unlikely that there would have been much change in the status quo: when in
1421
Mehmet asked leave to cross from Europe to Asia by way of Constantinople, Manuel refused to listen to those of his advisers who recommended that he should be seized and murdered. Not only did he grant the permission instantly but escorted the Sultan personally across th
e straits and dined with him at
Chrysopolis before returning. Shortly afterwards, however — on
21
May
1421
- Mehmet suddenly died. There are conflicting reports as to the cause of his death. One source speaks of a hunting accident; one of dysentery; another, more darkly, of poison. But no serious attempt was made to accuse the Byzantines. For some weeks the death was kept secret, to reduce the inevitable problems of the succession to a minimum; when the announcement was finally made, Mehmet's eldest son and designated heir was already firmly in control as Murad II.
1

The war faction in Constantinople was meanwhile becoming ever more vocal, openly blaming Manuel — who had retired to the monastery of the Peribleptos to escape a serious epidemic of plague that was then raging through the city - for not having murdered the Sultan when he had the opportunity. Its leaders, who included the co-Emperor John, now demanded that recognition for Murad should be withheld, and that the pretender Mustafa - still captive on Lemnos - should be played off against him. Manuel seems to have been genuinely horrified by the suggestion; but he was old and tired, and when he saw that John could not be shaken he allowed him to carry the day. All too soon he was proved to have been right. Mustafa was released, and with Byzantine help he soon established himself in most of Rumelia; but he refused to surrender Gallipoli to the Empire as he had promised, citing a Muslim tradition which forbade the restoration of conquests to unbelievers. It was not long before John and his friends understood the mistake they had made in putting their trust in an adventurer.

And that was only the beginning. In January
1422
Mustafa and his supporters crossed the straits on Genoese ships, only to be decisively beaten by Murad and obliged to flee back to Europe. A week or two later Murad arrived from Asia Minor with a huge army, and rapidly put an end to all the pretender's hopes. But Mustafa's capture and immediate execution did little to assuage the Sultan's wrath. He was now bent on war. Refusing to listen to the Byzantine ambassadors who were sent to pacify him, he dispatched a section of his army to blockade Thessalonica; he himself had decided to lead the main body against Constantinople -not as a punitive raid but as a determined effort to take the city by storm.

1
Mehme
t's greatest monument is the Green Mosque in Brusa. It was incomplete at the time of his death, and has remained so; but its loveliness is undiminished. The Sultan's tomb, set with turquoise tiles - replacements after the destruction of the originals in the great earthquake of
1855
- stands beside it and is, inside, every bit as beautiful.

The siege of
1422
was of a very different order from that instituted by Bayezit. His had been a war of attrition, intended to reduce the inhabitants to near-starvation; but Murad had none of his grandfather's patience. According to an eye-witness, John Cananus, he built a huge rampart of earth just outside the Land Walls and parallel to them, running all the way from the Marmara to the Golden Horn and enabling his catapults and siege engines to hurl their missiles over the walls on to the defenders within. The defenders, however, men and women working together, showed courage and determination - as the people of Constantinople always did when their city was in peril. John VIII himself was in supreme command and an example to all; he seemed to be everywhere at once, in every section of the walls, working ceaselessly, constantly shouting encouragement to those around him, impressing everyone with his energy and efficiency.

Fortunately for the Byzantines, the Sultan was superstitious. He had with him a holy man, allegedly descended from the Prophet himself, who had foretold that the city would fall on Monday,
24
August; and as that day dawned Murad launched a massive assault on the walls. The fight was long and hard, but somehow the defences held and finally the Turks fell back. They had concentrated all their efforts on that one great onslaught, and it had failed. Less than two weeks later, disappointed and discouraged, the Sultan ordered the siege to be abandoned. The watchers on the walls could hardly believe their eyes as they saw their would-be conquerors striking camp and slowly withdrawing westward across the plain. Few of them were aware that old Manuel, who had been prevented by age and increasing infirmity from taking any active part in the defence, had been secretly intriguing to place the late Sultan's youngest son - the thirteen-year-old Mustafa, of whom Mehmet in his will had designated him the guardian - on the Ottoman throne during his brother's absence; and that Murad, learning of this, had been obliged to leave when he did in order to avoid a new outbreak of civil war. There was, as far as they were concerned, only one explanation: the city's traditional patron and protectress, the Mother of God, had saved it yet again.

The secret backing of Mustafa was Manuel's last great service to Byzantium. The young Prince, having somehow avoided his brother's clutches, arrived in Constantinople on
30
September with a body of adherents to make formal acceptance of the alliance; but on the very next day, before he could even receive him, the old E
mperor suffered a severe stroke
which left him partially paralyzed. Fortunately his mind was unaffected; but the immediate after-effects were such that his son was obliged to take over all the negotiations with Mustafa - as also with a papal embassy led by Antonio da Massa, Provincial of the Franciscans, which had arrived three weeks before with a nine-point plan for Church union.

As things turned out, neither of these issues was to cause John too much trouble. Early in
1423
young Mustafa was betrayed to his brother and succumbed in his turn to the bowstring; while the papal proposals showed no advance on their countless predecessors, insisting that the Greek Church should 'return' to the Roman fold as the essential preliminary before any military expedition could be considered. In all other fields, however, the situation continued to deteriorate. True, Constantinople had secured a temporary respite; but Thessalonica was still under siege and, although a few supplies continued to come in by sea, trade had virtually ceased. By the approach of spring, serious famine threatened. Manuel's son Andronicus was, at only twenty-three, crippled with elephantiasis
1
and manifestly unable to cope. In the early summer he took an extraordinary and utterly unexpected step: with the full knowledge and approval of his father and brother, he sent an envoy to the Venetian authorities in Euboea offering the city to Venice.

Thessalonica was not sold, nor was it surrendered. Andronicus stated his reasons with the greatest possible frankness. The Empire could no longer afford to defend the city as it deserved, he himself was too ill to bear the responsibility for it in its present crisis. If Venice were prepared to assume the burden, he asked one thing only: that she should preserve all its political and religious institutions. The Venetians took their time in coming to a decision, but finally agreed to accept the offer; two representatives of the Doge sailed for Thessalonica, escorted by six transports laden with food and provisions, to take formal possession; and on
14
September the besieging Turks watched, powerless, as the banner of St Mark was proudly raised above the ramparts. After a decent interval, Andronicus left with his wife and young son for the Morea, where he became a monk and died four years later. The Venetians for their part sent emissaries to the Sultan, giving him formal notice of the transfer, but he refused to receive them.

As the year drew to its close and Murad remained implacable, John Palaeologus decided on one last appeal to the West. By now, it seemed

1
According, at least, to Chalcocondylas. Other sources speak of leprosy, or epilepsy. We can take our choice.

to him, everyone in Europe must see the magnitude of the danger. At any moment the Turkish army might return to the siege of Constantinople. In its present state the city could not hold out for ever; and once it had fallen, what was there to stop the Sultan continuing his westward advance? Leaving the regency to his ni
neteen-year-old brother Constan
tine - whom he simultaneously honoured with the title of Despot — on
1
5
November he sailed for Venice. He stayed there for over a month -the Senate having agreed to pay him a daily allowance to cover his expenses — but it was no use. The Venetians were prepared to defend their own interests wherever these existed - in Euboea and Thessalonica, in the Morea and the Greek islands. Where Byzantium was concerned, however, their old attitude remained unchanged: if John were able to persuade other nations of the West to contribute to an expedition, the Most Serene Republic would willingly add its share. Otherwise, not.