Women of Early Christianity Part 16

This conspiracy, however, was also revealed before it had made any serious headway, and John deemed it necessary to confiscate his sister's wealth in order to make further intrigues impossible. He caused the Princess Anna to retire to a convent and bestowed her luxuriously furnished palace on his favorite minister, Axouchus. But the n.o.ble nature of Axouchus recoiled at being benefited by the princess's fall, and thought more of turning the situation to the emperor's advantage than of enriching himself. Accordingly, he suggested to the emperor that it would be better policy to ward off the malice of his enemies by restoring the palace to Anna, and seeming to ignore her futile plots.

John felt the prudence of the advice, and impressed by the unselfish devotion of his friend,--a quality most rare in late Byzantine times,--replied in like spirit: "I should, indeed, be unworthy to reign if I could not forget my anger as readily as you forget your interest."

Anna was reinstated in her palace.

But little is known of the rest of Anna Comnena's life. Tiring finally of the vanities of court life, disappointed in all her intrigues for absolute power, and becoming ever more absorbed in her literary undertakings, she seems to have voluntarily sought the life of the cloister and to have spent the last decades of her career in peaceful retirement, engaged on her monumental work. She survived her brother John, who died in 1143, and was still at work on her history in 1145.

The date of her death is unknown.

The great work of Anna Comnena is ent.i.tled the _Alexiad_, and is one of the most important works in the voluminous collection of the Byzantine historians. In fifteen books, it narrates the history of Alexius Comnenus; and is a completion and continuation of a work in four books, left by her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius. The first two books of Anna's work treat of the rise into power of the Comneni house, and of the early life of Alexius; the remaining thirteen are devoted to the events of his reign.

The work of Anna, as a contribution to historical literature, has very decided deficiencies. In spite of her professed love of truth, her filial vanity tempts her at all times to put her father and her family in the best light. The very t.i.tle, _Alexiad_ suggests rather an _epos_--a poem in prose--than a serious historical work, and emphasizes its epideictic tendency. As a woman, she is impressed with the concrete rather than the abstract, and describes brilliant state functions, church festivals, imposing audiences and the like with much more familiarity and enthusiasm than she displays in her treatment of the underlying causes and inner connections of events. But with all their faults, these memoirs are an authoritative account of a brilliant and important epoch, and of a ruler who for his military sagacity and political shrewdness ranks among the great personages of the Middle Ages.

The human traits of the author reveal themselves in every chapter of her work. Anna possessed a womanly weakness for gossip and slander, and mingles her praise of the other prominent women of her time with a tincture of disparagement that must often be attributed to feminine jealousy. She possessed considerable wit and irony, but was intensely vain of her rank, her Greek origin and especially of her literary attainments. Nor must we fail to note the vaulting ambition of this otherwise attractive woman, an ambition which made her untrue to her brother and a conspirator against his throne and his life.

Anna Comnena realized that the chief censure of her work at the hands of contemporaries and of posterity would be the charge of partiality, and against this she seeks to defend herself in a striking pa.s.sage:

"I must still once more repel the reproach which some may bring against me, as if my history were composed merely according to the dictates of the natural love for parents which is engraved on the hearts of children. In truth, it is not the effect of that affection which I bear to mine, but it is the evidence of matters of fact, which obliges me to speak as I have done. Is it not possible that one can have at the same time an affection for the memory of a father and for truth? For myself, I have never directed my attempt to write history otherwise than for the ascertainment of the matter of fact. With this purpose I have taken for my subject the history of a worthy man. Is it just, then, by the single accident of his being the author of my birth, his quality of my father ought to form a prejudice against me, which would ruin my credit with my readers? I have given, upon other occasions, proofs sufficiently strong of the ardor which I had for the defence of my father's interests, which those that know me can never doubt; but, on the present, I have been limited by the inviolable fidelity with which I respect the truth, which I should have felt conscious to have veiled, under pretence of serving the renown of my father."

The auth.o.r.ess felt a.s.sured that a number of disturbances of nature and mysterious occurrences as interpreted by the soothsayers, foreboded the death of Alexius; thus she claimed for her father the indications of consequence, which were regarded by the ancients as necessary intimations of the sympathy of nature with the removal of great characters--from the world. During his latter days, the emperor was afflicted with the gout. Weakened in body, and gradually losing his native energy, he once responded to the empress, when she spoke of how his deeds would be handed down in history: "The pa.s.sages of my unhappy life call rather for tears and lamentations than for the praises you speak of." Finally asthma came to the a.s.sistance of the gout, and the prayers of monks and clergy, as well as the lavish distribution of alms, failed to stay the progress of the disease. At length pa.s.sed away the Emperor Alexius, who, with all his faults, was one of the best sovereigns of the Eastern Empire.

His learned daughter, in the greatness of her grief, threw aside the reserve of literary eminence, and burst into tears and shrieks, tearing her hair, and defacing her countenance, while the Empress Irene cut off her hair, changed her purple buskins for black mourning shoes, and, casting from her her princely robes, put on a robe of black. "Even at the moment when she put it on," adds Anna, "the emperor gave up the ghost, and in that moment the sun of my life set."

Anna continues to express her lamentations at her loss, and upbraids herself that she survived her father, "that light of the world"; Irene, "the delight alike of the East and of the West"; and, also, her husband, Nicephorus. "I am indignant," she adds, "that my soul, suffering under such torrents of misfortune, should still deign to animate my body. Have I not been more hard and unfeeling than the rocks themselves; and is it not just that one who could survive such a father and a mother and such a husband should be subjected to the influence of so much calamity? But let me finish this history, rather than any longer fatigue my readers with my unavailing and tragical lamentation!" The history then closes with the following couplet:

"The learned Comnena lays her pen aside, What time her subject and her father died."

Taking it all in all, the best appreciation of the _Alexiad_ is that of Gibbon, who thus characterizes the qualities of the work:

"The life of the Emperor Alexius has been delineated by a favorite daughter, who was inspired by a tender regard for his person and a laudable zeal to perpetuate his virtues. Conscious of the just suspicion of her readers, Anna Comnena repeatedly protests that, besides her personal knowledge, she has searched the discourse and writings of the most respectable veterans; that after an interval of thirty years, forgotten by, and forgetful of, the world, her mournful solitude was inaccessible to hope and fear; and that truth, the naked perfect truth, was more dear and sacred than the memory of her parent. Yet instead of the simplicity of style and narrative which wins our belief, an elaborate affectation of rhetoric and science betrays, in every page, the vanity of the female author.

"The genuine character of Alexius is lost in a vague constellation of virtues; and the perpetual strain of panegyric and apology awakens our jealousy to question the veracity of the historian and the merit of the hero. We cannot, however, refuse her judicious and important remark that the disorders of the times were the misfortune and the glory of Alexius; and that every calamity which can afflict a declining empire was acc.u.mulated in his reign by the justice of heaven and the vices of his predecessors.... The reader may possibly smile at the lavish praise which his daughter so often bestows on a flying hero; the weakness or prudence of his situation might be mistaken for a want of personal courage; and his political arts are branded by the Latins with the names of deceit and dissimulation...."

The story of the remaining princesses of the Comneni family is merely the mirroring of feminine beauty and frailty; and its sad chronicle goes to show that the Empire was deservedly hastening to its doom because the stamina sufficient to keep it alive was lacking.

John Comnenus was succeeded by his younger son Manuel, a renowned warrior about whose name have gathered many of the romances of chivalry.

He was twice married, first to the virtuous Bertha of Germany, and, after her decease, to the beautiful Maria, a French or Latin princess of Antioch. Bertha had a daughter, who was destined for Bela, a Hungarian prince educated at Constantinople under the name of Alexius and looked upon as the heir-apparent. But his rights were set aside when Maria had a son named Alexius, who was in the direct line of male succession.

Notwithstanding the virtues of his queens, Manuel, who was so valiant in war, showed himself in peace a licentious voluptuary. "No sooner did he return to Constantinople than he resigned himself to the arts and pleasures of a life of luxury: the expense of his dress, his table and his palace, surpa.s.sed the measure of his predecessors, and whole summer days were idly wasted in the delicious isles of the Propontis in the incestuous love of his niece, Theodora."

Manuel had a cousin, Andronicus, who was even more of a voluptuary than he--one whose career as a soldier of fortune and as a heartless roue marks him as the Byzantine Alcibiades. He indulged his favorite pa.s.sions, love and war, without any regard to divine or human law. His lofty stature, manly strength and beauty, and dare-devil manner were so seductive that three ladies of royal birth fell victims to his charms.

His mistresses shared his company with his lawful wife, and divided his affections with a crowd of actresses and dancing girls. He was a partaker of the pleasures, as well as of the perils, of Manuel; and while the emperor lived in public incest with his niece Theodora, Andronicus enjoyed the favors of her sister Eudocia. So enamored was she of her handsome lover, and so shameless in her conduct, that she gloried in the t.i.tle of his mistress, and accompanied him to his military command in Cilicia. Upon his return, her brothers sought to expiate her infamy in the blood of Andronicus, but, through Eudocia's aid, he eluded his enemy. Proving treacherous, however, to the emperor, he was imprisoned for a long period in a tower of the palace at Constantinople, where his faithful wife shared his imprisonment and a.s.sisted him in making his escape.

Andronicus was later given a second command on the Cilician frontier.

While here, he made a conquest of the beautiful Philippa, sister of the Empress Maria, and daughter of Raymond of Poitou, the Latin Prince of Antioch. For her sake, he deserted his station and wasted his time in b.a.l.l.s and tournaments; and to his love the frail princess sacrificed her innocence, her reputation, and the offer of an advantageous marriage.

The Emperor Manuel, however, urged on by his consort, resented this violation of the family honor, and recalled Andronicus from his infamous liaison. The indiscreet princess was left to weep and repent of her folly; and Andronicus, deprived of his post, gathered together a band of adventurers of like spirit and undertook a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. With bold effrontery, he declared himself a champion of the Cross; and his beauty, gallantry, and professions of piety captivated both king and clergy. The Latin King of Jerusalem invested the Byzantine prince with the lordship of Berytus, on the coast of Phoenicia. In his neighborhood there dwelt the young and handsome queen, Theodora,--the daughter of his cousin Isaac, and great-grand-daughter of the Emperor Alexius,--who was widow of Baldwin III., King of Jerusalem. Because of her beauty, her talents, and her prudence, Theodora enjoyed the respect and admiration of all the Latin n.o.bles. Andronicus became deeply enamored of his fair cousin, and she, returning his pa.s.sion with equal ardor, became the third royal victim of his l.u.s.t. So debased was the state of society among the Latin Christians--which was the case at Constantinople also--that the cousins carried on their amours with little affectation of secrecy. The Emperor Manuel being again enraged by the disgrace to the family name through the moral fall of another Comneni princess, Andronicus had to flee for his life, and Theodora accompanied him in his flight. She and her two illegitimate children were later captured and sent to Constantinople. Andronicus finally sought forgiveness from the emperor, and such was his charm that he was pardoned; he returned to Constantinople, and soon began the career of intrigue which eventually placed him on the throne.

Upon the death of Manuel, the Empress Maria acted as regent for her son Alexius II., a lad of thirteen. Her prime minister was Alexius Comnenus, a grandson of John II. Maria's beauty and charm of manner gave her considerable power over the young n.o.bility. In the conflicts of the n.o.bles she warmly espoused the cause of her prime minister, and it was believed that a criminal attachment existed between them. The young emperor's sister Maria, with the Caesar, her husband, attempted to drive the prime minister from power by a popular uprising. In the turmoil and chaos that followed, all eyes turned toward Andronicus. The voluptuary and adventurer responded to the call, and entered the city to be enthroned, alleging that it was his purpose to deliver the young emperor from evil counsellors. Cruelty was now added to his other serious crimes. The Princess Maria and her husband, the Caesar, were poisoned; the Empress Maria, on a charge of treason, was condemned to death, and strangled; and Alexius II., the legitimate heir to the throne, was deposed and subjected to the same form of death as his unfortunate mother. The tyrant kicked the body of the innocent youth as it lay before him, and addressed it with a sneer: "Thy father was a knave, thy mother a wh.o.r.e, and thyself a fool!"

Owing to debauchery and crime, the family of the Comneni had degenerated. Through the n.o.bility and greatness of its women in an earlier period, it had risen to the height of power; and through the debas.e.m.e.nt and weakness of its women, it finally fell. Andronicus was the last of the line--the most heinous monster that ever sat on the Byzantine throne. But his career in crime was cut short. The people rose up against the author of so many a.s.sa.s.sinations. Isaac Angelus, a n.o.bleman, accused of treason, resisted arrest, and fled to Saint Sophia.

A mob gathered and took his side against the mercenaries of Andronicus.

The tyrant himself was seized and torn to pieces, and the Angeli succeeded the Comneni on the throne of Constantinople.

Isaac and Alexius Angelus, the two emperors whose reign occupied the years 1185-1204, between the fall of Andronicus and the conquest of Constantinople by the Crusaders, were the two most feeble and despicable creatures who ever occupied the imperial throne. Euphrosyne, the empress of Alexius, however, was a woman of strong personality, though of licentious ways, and, as the last of the Byzantine empresses before the fall of Constantinople, she exhibited the strength as well as the weakness of that long line of self-a.s.serting princesses whom we have been considering.

Owing to the idle disposition of her worthless husband, Euphrosyne a.s.sisted in conducting the business of the Empire; and so masterful was she that no minister dared take any step without her approval. Gibbon considers that there was no greater indication of the degradation of society at this time than that the proudest n.o.bles of the Empire, members of the celebrated families of Comnenus, Ducas, Palaeologus, and Cantacuzenus, contended for the honor of carrying Euphrosyne on her litter at public ceremonies. Her influence over the n.o.bility was due to her beauty, her talents and her apt.i.tude for business. But her inordinate vanity, reckless extravagance, and flagrant licentiousness brought great scandal upon the Empire even in those vicious times, and frequently led to violent quarrels with Alexius. Finally, the jealousy of the emperor at her licentious conduct lost all bounds. Alexius ordered her paramour to be a.s.sa.s.sinated, and the female slaves and the eunuchs of her household were put to the torture. The beautiful and accomplished Euphrosyne was compelled to leave the palace, and, like so many imperial dames noted for their devotion or their license, was immured in a convent.

The court, however, soon missed her talents and energy; Alexius himself was not equal to the ordinary duties of his office; the courtiers were unrestrained in their peculations, and nowhere was there a restraining hand. Euphrosyne was recalled to save the dynasty, and, with even more than her former insolence, she entered once more upon a career of extravagance and shame. While her energy and skill in the affairs of state won admiration, her lavish expenditures of the public funds excited the dismay of the few thoughtful men of the day. The crowd enjoyed the splendid spectacle of her hunting parties and applauded their empress as she rode along on her richly caparisoned steed, with a falcon perched on her gold-embroidered glove, but such extravagances were but hastening the end of the doomed city.

The rest of the story is but too quickly told. Alexius III.,--Angelus,--had, by a clever coup d'etat, displaced his brother Isaac; Alexius IV., son of Isaac, implored outside aid, and gave the marauders of the fourth Crusade an excuse to attack the city. Alexius III. fled for his life, and Alexius IV., after a brief reign, was caught and strangled by the usurper, Alexius Ducas. The Crusaders a.s.saulted and sacked Constantinople when Alexius V., Ducas, the last of the emperors, fled in a galley by night, taking with him the Empress Euphrosyne and her daughter Eudocia whom he had married. He was afterward captured, tried for the murder of the young Alexius, and suffered death by being hurled from the top of a lofty pillar.

The end of Euphrosyne and her daughter Eudocia is not known. The latter had already had a sufficiently tragical history. Eudocia had first been married to Simeon, King of Servia, who later abdicated the throne and retired to a monastery. His son Stephen, enamored of the beauty of his young stepmother, married her. Later, a disgraceful quarrel arose.

Eudocia was divorced by her second husband and, almost naked, was expelled from the palace.

In her desperate condition, abandoned by all, she would probably have perished had not Fulk, the king's brother, taken pity on her and sent her back to Constantinople. Alexius Ducas, who had already divorced two wives, was willing enough to wed the daughter of Euphrosyne, and after his execution the hand of the accommodating Eudocia was bestowed on Leo Sguros, the chief of Argos, Nauplia, and Corinth.

The stories of Euphrosyne and Eudocia are a sufficient confirmation of the corrupt state of society in the latter days of the Comneni and the Angeli. Andronicus and his mistresses, and Euphrosyne and her daughter, are no exaggerated types of the higher cla.s.ses of the Empire. The clergy had grown indifferent to the licentiousness of the age, and many bishops and patriarchs were themselves venal and degraded. The people were too ready to follow in the footsteps of the higher cla.s.ses. Therefore, through the loss of womanly virtue and manly strength, the Empire was on the verge of ruin.

Thus fell, on April 13, 1204, Constantinople--"The eye of the world, the ornament of nations, the fairest sight on earth, the mother of churches, the spring whence flowed the waters of faith, the mistress of orthodox doctrine, the seat of the sciences, draining the cup mixed for her by the hand of the Almighty, and consumed by fires as devouring as those which ruined the five Cities of the Plain."

XV

WOMANHOOD OF THE BYZANTINE DECADENCE

The Byzantine Empire had fallen with its capital Constantinople, and the Latin Empire of Romania had taken its place. But the rule of the Franks was too weak to take an abiding hold on the provinces, and, after a brief and flickering existence, 1204-1261, it pa.s.sed away, and a Greek dynasty was once more established in New Rome. While the Ottoman power was gaining strength, the Greek Empire was suffered to exist; but in the course of two centuries, through internal corruption and mismanagement, Byzantine dominion ceased to be an effective force in the world's affairs, and the city of Constantine easily fell a prey to the Mohammedan forces.

Though the Crusaders had captured the capital, the provinces refused to recognize the dominion of the Franks, and three Greek kingdoms were carved out of the remains of the Byzantine Empire by adventurous spirits who had left Constantinople rather than fall victims to the Western conquerors. Theodore Lascaris, the last to strike a blow for the doomed city, founded across the straits, out of the province of Bithynia, the empire of Nicaea, though his rights to royal power lay merely in his strong right arm and in his having married the daughter of the imbecile Alexius III. Alexius Comnenus, grandson of Andronicus I., had betaken himself to the eastern frontier of the Empire, and, chiefly through the glamour of his name, had made for himself, out of the long strip of coast land at the south-east corner of the Black Sea, a kingdom that was destined to carry on an independent existence for nearly three hundred years as the empire of Trebizond. Furthermore, Michael Angelus, a cousin of Alexius III., became "despot" of Epirus and later conquered the Latin kingdom of Thessalonica. Finally, after the Greek empire of Nicaea had enjoyed a steady growth for over half a century, during which it absorbed the kingdom of Thessalonica, Michael Palaeologus, the usurper of the Nicene throne, succeeded in wresting Constantinople from its Latin rulers, and established anew the Byzantine Empire, under the dynasty of the Palaeologi.

In the stories of the dynasties of these various kingdoms we have not many glimpses into the history of woman, but wherever feminine names are mentioned woman is found to be exerting her customary influence over the affairs of state and the destinies of empires.

The dynasty of Theodore Lascaris was handed down through his daughter Irene, whose husband succeeded to the throne as the Emperor John III.

The Empress Irene was much beloved because of her amiable character and domestic virtues, and there is preserved a beautiful incident of the affection she inspired in a young maiden. John Asan, the King of Bulgaria, had formed an alliance with John III. through the betrothal of his daughter Helena to Theodore, the heir-apparent to the Nicene throne.

Highly esteeming the virtues of the Empress Irene, the Bulgarian king had sent the young Helena to be educated under her care. Later, when the alliance between the emperor and the king was broken off, Asan sent for his daughter, with the request that she return to Bulgaria. John III.

scorned to retain his son's betrothed as a hostage, and suffered the attendants to arrange her departure. But when the maiden ascertained that she was not to return to her dear mother the empress, her grief was inconsolable. Her tears and lamentations over the separation and her praises of the Nicene queen at length excited the serious displeasure of her father, and he had to threaten her with severe punishment if she did not cease to weep and mourn for her Greek mother. But her love for Irene was greater than the fear of punishment, and, in spite of the censure and the blandishments of her parent, she could never reconcile herself to the loss of the happy hours at the side of the virtuous and gifted empress. During Irene's lifetime John was uniformly successful, extending the bounds of his dominion and winning the love and devoted admiration of his subjects. But, after her death, another woman led him into evil ways.

John married as his second wife, in her twelfth year, the Princess Anna, natural daughter of the Emperor Frederick II. of Germany. Anna had brought in her train, as directress of her court, a beautiful Italian lady, Marchesina by name. The Emperor John fell violently in love with his child-wife's chief attendant. Marchesina soon received the honors conferred in courts on the recognized mistress of the sovereign, and was permitted to wear the dress reserved for members of the imperial family.

Public opinion severely censured the emperor for his conduct, and one of the prominent bishops of the day, Nicephorus Blemmidas by name, found occasion to give Marchesina a severe rebuke. Blemmidas had so beautifully embellished the church of the monastery of which he was abbot, that it was frequently visited by members of the court. One day, while the abbot was conducting divine service in the chapel, the imperial mistress pa.s.sed by with her attendants, and made up her mind to enter. But when Blemmidas heard of her approach, he at once ordered the doors to be closed, declaring that never with his permission should an adulteress enter the sanctuary. Marchesina, incensed at so severe a rebuke, so publicly inflicted, hurried back to the palace, threw herself at the feet of her imperial lover, and implored him to avenge on the abbot the insult he had put upon her. But John was not regardless of public opinion, and, recognizing the mistake he had made, merely said in response to Marchesina's entreaties: "The abbot would have respected me, had I respected myself."

Woman, too, was in large measure the cause of the overthrow of the dynasty of Lascaris, and the usurpation of Michael Palaeologus, scion of one of the most influential families of Constantinople. Theodore II., who succeeded his father John, grew testy and superst.i.tious in his old age, and had reason to suspect the cunning and able Michael who was rapidly winning the popular favor. But Michael was undoubtedly spurred on to action against the dynasty by Theodore's outrageous conduct toward his sister Martha. The latter had a beautiful daughter who had been most tenderly reared as became her rank. To the surprise of all, the emperor ordered the family to bestow her in marriage on one of his pages, Valanidiotes. Though beneath the maiden in rank, the page succeeded in winning the affection of the highborn damsel, and the family were consenting to the union, when the emperor capriciously changed his mind, and compelled a betrothal between the maiden and a man of her own rank.

A report that this marriage was not consummated led the superst.i.tious emperor to suspect that both this event and a malignant attack of his disease were due to some charm practised by the mother.

In his vexation and rage, he ordered Martha, though connected by birth with the imperial family, to be enclosed in a sack with a number of cats, which were from time to time p.r.i.c.ked with pins that they might torture the unfortunate lady. Martha was brought into court with the sack thus bound about her neck, and was examined concerning her supposed witchcraft, but the suspicious tyrant could extract nothing from her on which to base a condemnation.

This unseemly action was an offence Michael could never forgive. From this time he began a.s.siduously to plot against the throne. The story of his usurpation and of his cruelty toward the rightful emperor, the young lad, John IV.,--Ducas,--does not concern us here. Suffice it to say that he ascended the throne of Nicaea as Michael VIII.,--Palaeologus,--and was fortunate enough to capture the city of Constantinople and revive the Greek Empire there. Through the Empire of Nicaea the thread of tradition was unbroken, and from 1261 on we have once more a Byzantine Empire.

The history of this concluding period, 1261-1453, embracing the dynasty of the Palaeologi, is the most degrading portion of the national annals.

Michael is renowned for being the restorer of the Eastern Empire, but his throne was gained through baseness and cruelty, and he left to his descendants a heritage of vice and crime of such a nature that the Empire survived for a century or two not because of its intrinsic worth, but because the Ottomans were not yet ready to seize it. It is a period notable for the absence of literary taste, of patriotic feeling, of political honesty, of civil liberty. The emperors are, as a rule, immoral and capricious men, utterly selfish in their aims and their pursuits, and each one leaves the Empire somewhat weaker than he found it.