Thus the ex-Empress Maria and Anna--the real founder of the fortune of
her house--found in religious retirement and meditation a life of peace
and tranquillity after the turmoils of revolutions and the intrigues of
imperial politics. The one had seen the failure of her plans and the
downfall of her house; the other could look with pride upon the full
fruition of her plots for the elevation of the Comneni.
The reign of Alexius I.,--Comnenus,--occupies a considerable place not
only in Byzantine, but, also, in general history. It inaugurated a new
era in the relations between the East and the West, between the Greek
and the Latin, both in affairs of Church and state, and the events of
which the tragic expedition of 1204 was the climax had their beginning
in the days when the courtiers of Alexius revelled with the companions
of Godfrey of Bouillon. Equally important is this reign from the point
of view of the Byzantine Empire; it put an end to the anarchy of the
eleventh century, it established a dynasty which restored much of the
territory that weak rulers had lost, and for over a century it preserved
the tottering Empire from its inevitable fall. It was a period in which
woman's influence was marked, and its record is well known to us because
of the literary skill of Anna Comnena. This imperial princess is the
first woman in the world's annals to write an extended history. Both in
learning and in personality she has won a place among the notable women
of the world, and hers is the last great name in the chronicles of
Byzantine womanhood.
In the comprehensive education which Anna received, we have a view of
the literary prominence of the Comnenic epoch. She had the best masters
the Empire afforded, and in her childhood she exhibited a phenomenal
capacity for learning. Her teachers gave her thorough training in the
works of classical authors. She read Homer, Herodotus, Thucydides,
Aristophanes, the Tragedians and Polybius under suitable guidance, and
without assistance mastered the writings of the church fathers. She
studied with avidity ancient mythology, geography, history, rhetoric,
and dialectic, and was also versed in Platonic and Aristotelian
philosophy. It was in history, however, that she found her chief
delight, and she early conceived the idea of composing a work in honor
of her father's reign.
We have already mentioned the incidents of her childhood. Anna never
forgave her brother John for supplanting her, and this disappointment of
her tender years largely influenced the course of her later life. She
was devoted to Maria, the mother of her first betrothed, and no doubt
imbibed from her much of the ambition and hatred which were the marked
characteristics of her career in politics. Her empress-mother, Irene,
also exhibited a marked partiality for her eldest daughter, to the
disparagement of her son, whom Alexius had destined for the throne.
Irene was a beautiful and intriguing princess of much natural ability,
and stood in awe of the greater learning of her daughter. The two became
companions in intrigue and diplomacy, and worked together for the
promotion of their own interests, against the schemes of Alexius and
John. Anna was married at a tender age to Nicephorus Bryennius. He was
the representative of one of the most aristocratic and powerful families
of Constantinople, and exhibited much ability both in authorship and
statecraft, but he seems mediocre and colorless by the side of his
spouse.
Walter Scott laid the scene of his Count Robert of Paris in the
Constantinople of this period, and he presents an interesting picture of
Anna as a devotee of the Muses, and of the principal heroes and heroines
who figure in the intrigues of the court at this time:
"It was an apartment of the palace of the Blaquemal, dedicated to the
especial service of the beloved daughter of the Emperor Alexius, the
Princess Anna Comnena, known to our times by her literary talents, which
record the history of her father's reign. She was seated, the queen and
sovereign of a literary circle, such as the imperial princess,
Porphyrogenita (or born in the sacred purple chamber itself), could
assemble in those days, and a glance round will enable us to form an
idea of her guests or companions.
"The literary princess herself had the bright eyes, straight features
and comely and pleasing manners which all would have allowed to the
emperor's daughter, even if she could not have been, with severe truth,
said to have possessed them. She was placed upon a small bench, or sofa,
the fair sex here not being permitted to recline, as was the fashion of
the Roman ladies. A table before her was loaded with books, plants,
herbs, and drawings. She sat on a slight elevation, and those who
enjoyed the intimacy of the princess, or to whom she wished to speak in
particular, were allowed during such sublime colloquy to rest their
knees on the little dais or elevated place where her chair found its
station, in a posture half standing, half kneeling.
Three other seats,
of different heights, were placed on the dais, and under the same canopy
of state which overshadowed that of Princess Anna.
"The first, which strictly resembled her own chair in size and
convenience, was one designed for her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius. He
was said to entertain or affect the greatest respect for his wife's
erudition, though the courtiers were of the opinion that he would have
liked to absent himself from her evening parties more frequently than
was particularly agreeable to the Princess Anna and her imperial
parents. This was partly explained by the private tattle of the court,
which averred that the Princess Anna Comnena had been more beautiful
when she was less learned; and that, though still a fine woman, she had
somewhat lost the charms of her person as she became enriched in her
mind.
"To atone for the lowly fashion of the seat of Nicephorus Bryennius, it
was placed as near to his princess as it could possibly be edged by the
ushers, so that she might not lose one look of her handsome spouse, nor
he the least particle of wisdom which might drop from the lips of his
erudite consort.
"Two other seats of honor or, rather, thrones--for they had footstools
placed for the support of the feet, rests for the arms, and embroidered
pillows for the comfort of the back, not to mention the glories of the
outspreading canopy--were destined for the imperial couple, who
frequently attended their daughter's studies, which she prosecuted in
public in the way we have intimated. On such occasions, the Empress
Irene enjoyed the triumph peculiar to the mother of an accomplished
daughter, while Alexius, as it might happen, sometimes listened with
complacence to the rehearsal of his own exploits in the inflated
language of the princess, and sometimes mildly nodded over her dialogues
upon the mysteries of philosophy, with the Patriarch Zosimus, and other
sages."
Scott's description gives a graphic presentation of the Princess Anna
and of her relations with the various members of her family; and if we
add the heir to the throne, her younger brother John, for whom she had
profound contempt in spite of his many virtues, we have the group about
whom revolve the narrative of her history and the chief events of her
life.
It is not necessary for us to enter into the story of the First Crusade,
and of the incidents of the intercourse of Franks and Greeks, which Anna
tells so graphically in her history; but before calling attention to the
literary qualities and historical value of her work, we must note those
events which unfolded her character and, in her later years, brought
about her exclusive devotion to literature.
Owing to his duplicity and lack of confidence in men, Alexius made his
wife and his learned daughter his confidantes and his advisers in many
of the affairs of State, and frequently utilized their services in
gaining his ends. Both the imperial ladies were apt pupils in the school
of political intrigue, and, in the last years of the emperor, endeavored
to utilize their influence over him to the detriment of the
heir-apparent and the elevation of Anna and her husband, the Cæsar
Nicephorus. They accordingly formed a plot, during Alexius's last
illness, to dispossess the eldest son John, that the three might share
the government among them.
The empress introduced soldiers into the palace, and in the closing
hours of the emperor's life sought to prevail on him to pronounce the
words which would bring about the change in the succession. But the
astute emperor realized his son's eminent fitness to wear the crown, and
was not in sympathy with the ambitions of his learned but unscrupulous
daughter. To all the entreaties of the empress he but cast his eyes
heavenward and remarked on the vanities of human greatness. Despairing
and enraged, the empress at last hastily left the room with a parting
thrust at her imperial consort, which might fitly have been inscribed as
an epitaph on his tomb: "You die as you lived--a hypocrite!" Meanwhile,
during her absence, John entered the room, and, with the tacit consent
of his dying father, removed from his finger the signet which gave him
command of all the forces of the palace; and crushing, in their
inception, the plots of the empress and her daughter, he was solemnly
crowned the moment his father breathed his last.
John proved to be the most amiable character that ever occupied the
Byzantine throne. But all his virtues did not suffice to quell the
malice and disappointed ambition of his imperial sister.
In spite of the
failure of the first conspiracy, the Princess Anna,
"whose philosophy
would not have refused the weight of a diadem," entered into another
plot to dispossess her brother--already secure in the confidence of
courtiers and subjects--and to elevate her husband, whom she felt sure
of ruling. As John was already on the throne, however, the only way by
which he could be disposed of was to have his eyes put out or to resort
to the still worse crime of secret assassination. When her mild and
gentle husband recoiled at the thought of such cruelty, Anna made to him
the memorable response that Nature had mistaken the two sexes and had
endowed him with the soul of a woman, contemptuously contrasting what
she termed his feminine weakness with her own manly inhumanity.
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 noble
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 entitled 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 title, _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 passage:
"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 authoress felt assured 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 passages of my unhappy
life call rather for tears and lamentations than for the praises you
speak of." Finally asthma came to the assistance 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 passed 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
accumulated 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, surpassed 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 roué
marks him as the Byzantine Alcibiades. He indulged his favorite
passions, 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 title 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 assisted 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
balls 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
t