In many ways I consider the stories
found in Byzantine history to be better and more amazing than any mere fiction
can approximate. The wars, battles, rebellions and revolutions, the intrigue of
the Imperial Court, the descriptions of near-fantastical buildings, cities and
lands, and the workings of holy-men and women are better than any fantasy which
could be conjured up. While sometimes these texts can be a bit dull and
uninspiring, never do I get bogged-down into believing that reading these
priceless historical snippets is not worth it. Even if you persuade yourself
that historical narratives and literary sources aren’t really that useful for
studying the past – thanks to those damned post-modernists – then at least appreciate
that the stories they tell are just amazing based on their own merits. In my
opinion the tales from the 9th and 10th century
Macedonian Dynasty have a spectacular and unique place in the history of the
world, and if Shakespeare himself had taken an interest in Byzantine history
then we would have had an ever more spectacular series of history plays from
the Bard, ones which would stand alongside Richard III or Henry V.
And
now a brief description of this period. The 9th century emperor
Basil I the Macedonian (r.867-886), who had murdered his way to the throne,
left behind a serious legacy for his successors. His eldest and favoured son,
Constantine, tragically predeceased him leaving his less favoured son Leo to
take on the burden of the Imperial throne – a burden which he might not have
been the best person to bear. This emperor, Leo VI the Wise (or Philosopher,
r.886-912) had a reign troubled by domestic disputes, numerous marital frustrations
and military defeats both abroad and at home. After causing a slight religious
crisis owing to his need to remarry for a third time, the throne passed to his
only son by his fourth marriage, the child Constantine VII Porphyrogennetos
‘the Purple-Born’, resulting in an unstable regency council who immediately
faced a devastating invasion from the Bulgarians. Constantine VII’s years under
regency (r.913-920) were brought to an end when a cunning and lucky admiral,
Romanos Lekapenos, took control of the palace, forced Constantine to marry his
daughter, and then had himself crowned emperor. Romanos I (r.920-944) then
pushed Constantine VII into the background, elevated three of his own sons to
power alongside himself, successfully resisted the Bulgarian invasion and initiated
a series of reconquests on the eastern frontier. In all respects it seemed that
Romanos I and his family, the Lekapenoi, were here to stay for good and
establish their own dynasty, except that after twenty-five years of power
Romanos was betrayed and overthrown by his own sons, being shunted off to a
monastery where he spent the remaining few years of his life. This allowed his
son-in-law Constantine VII, who had been lurking in the background all this
time, to sweep in and retake his birth-right from the Lekapenoi, ruling in his
own right and ushering in a golden-age of court ritual and history writing,
some of the fruits of which we examined last month. Constantine VII (r.945-959)
left his throne to his frivolous and pleasure-loving son Romanos II
(r.959-963), and it is at this point which I shall break off this period of
history, leaving the remaining century of the Macedonian Dynasty to be covered
in a future review.
Basil
I the Macedonian (866/867 – 886) – Founder of the Macedonian Dynasty
Leo
VI the Wise (886
– 912) – Second son of Basil
Alexander (912 – 913) – Third
son of Basil, brother of Leo VI. Ruled for one year
Constantine
VII Porphyrogennetos (913 – 920) – Underage son of Leo, under regency
Romanos
I Lekapenos (920 – 944) –
Father-in-law of Constantine, technically a usurper
Constantine
VII [Second reign] (944 – 959) – Resumed power after Romanos’ deposition
Romanos
II (959 – 963)
– Son of Constantine, great-grandson of Basil
Constantine
VII, who was keen to revive history-writing and thereby glorify his own family
in the process, was responsible for initiating the creation of the Chronicle of
Theophanes Continuatus. The first five books of this impressive
historical document, which cover the reigns of the 9th century
emperors down to Basil I, were examined in my previous review. The final section
of this text, known as Book VI (or Part 3), deals with the reigns of the
various emperors from Leo VI down to Romanos II, where it concludes. This
unfortunately is the first major Byzantine source I’ve had to deal with which
has so far, to my knowledge, not yet been translated into English, so reviewing
it is going to be difficult. A second source for this period, the chronicle of
Symeon the Magister, or Logothete (although identifying him as the author of
this text can be problematic) likewise remains untranslated at this present
time, despite its being the most important source for the reign of Romanos I
Lekapenos and the years prior to his rule. These two sources are both heavily
biographical in character, concerning themselves with the personalities of
emperors and governments more than just the historical events. It must be said
that Theophanes Continuatus borrows heavily from the Logothete
Chronicle, to the extent that one can clearly see that one basically copies
the other. When you look at the similarities between these two sources,
especially when it comes to the reign of Romanos I – which the Logothete
Chronicle is essentially the definitive and panegyrical historical account
for – then you can see the extent to which chronicles and histories are
dependent on each other for information. Basically, if you want to include in
your own historical narrative a piece about a specific period of time outside
of your personal experience, find an account, some annals or a history by
somebody who has already dealt with that, and either reword the information or
else copy it word-for-word. It’s a shortcut for history-writers in an age which
does not acknowledge plagiarism. This at least is what Theophanes
Continuatus did with Romanos I, pretty much copying the Logothete
Chronicle’s section on this emperor.
So,
now that I have outlined my own inadequacy for talking about the historical accounts
of this period, we can delve into some of the more interesting sources from
this time – many of which have been translated into English. Owing to
sparseness in terms of time and space I have for writing this review, I will
confine myself to sources which deal more with the time of Leo VI (r.886-912)
than any of his successors, leaving later sources to be examined in my next
review blog. The sources I shall be looking at will be the Life of the
Patriarch Euthymios of Constantinople (Vita Euthymii Patriarchae CP),
the Taktika of Leo VI himself, and John Kaminiates’ account of the sack
of Thessaloniki in 904.
The
story of the Vita Euthymii is one of my favourites. No, not the
narrative itself, but rather the story of the text’s discovery and how we are able
to read it today. In the 19th century a manuscript was discovered in
a remote Greek monastery which was revealed later to be a battered and
incomplete copy of the lost life of the Patriarch Euthymios. This manuscript
was taken to Berlin for further study, but was lost forever during the Second
World War – most likely destroyed during the apocalyptic bombing campaigns made
against that city. Fortunately the text had been copied down some time
beforehand, allowing a modern critical edition to be produced later in the 20th
century. Nowadays we only have these critical editions left, thanks to the work
of earlier scholars, for we shall never again find another manuscript like it.
As to the text itself, it is a bit different to your usual saints’ or
patriarchs’ lives. The Patriarch Euthymios himself does not often appear in the
narrative, the events of the palace and court being of greater interest to the
writer of this story. This may be partially due to the loss of some of the
parts of the text, including the opening sections, for rather than beginning
with the author’s debasing account of why he writes this story, or the heavenly
birth and heroic childhood of our protagonist, we begin with the death of the
emperor Basil I and the accession of his son, Leo VI. The various main events
of Leo’s reign take the body of the story, with occasional appearances from
Euthymios and his monastery as we navigate Leo’s tenuous relationship with his
court, his four marriages, and an assassination attempt in the church on St.
Mokios’ Day. Euthymios takes part in these events usually as a spiritual
advisor to Leo, and then takes a more central role during his duals against his
main rival and ultimate successor to the Patriarchal throne Nikolaos Mystikos.
As a hagiography this text is unusual, and is more like a story of political
events around the reign of Leo VI.
The
Taktika of Leo VI shall only be dealt with briefly here, for the damn
thing firmly resisted my efforts to read it. A guidance manual on tactics and
military strategy, this text is in a similar vein to the Strategikon of
the emperor Maurice reviewed earlier this year. The Taktika feels much
longer, more detailed, and consequently more likely to bore the socks of anyone
but the most hardcore fans of the Byzantine military. It certainly did for me. Divided
into twenty separate books, in a similar manner to the Strategikon, the Taktika
offers different sections on the qualities needed in a commander (rich,
reputable, and for some reason he needs to have children), on camping, drills,
naval warfare and marching. In particular Leo is keen to walk the commander
through long-term preparation for the battle, what to do the day before the
battle and then on the day of the battle, as well as what to do after the
battle and offering a number of choice sayings and proverbs the commander ought
to live by. Leo VI was not a militaristic emperor, and so could not have been
writing from personal experience, but rather he was attempting to amalgamate previously
written military knowledge and thereby create an up-to-date official military
manual – at least that’s the impression we get from his introduction. Unlike
the Strategikon, the Taktika has no cute little diagrams, and is
never far from offering a Christian message. Heck, if for any reason you want a
Christian military manual, then the Taktika is your best example. It is
hefty and dull.
Our
final historical text from the time of Leo VI is also our most striking: John
Kaminiates’ account of the sack of Thessaloniki by an Arab fleet in the year
904. I have so often read grand histories of empires and campaigns, written
abstractedly and with its eyes focused either on Constantinople or on the
frontier that to read this localized, short-term and heartfelt account from
somewhere else in the (still substantial) empire of the Romans is an unusual
and rewarding experience. Written in the form of a long letter, Kaminiates’
account is of the great tragedy that was the fall of this city to a predatory
fleet, both a tragedy for Thessaloniki’s inhabitants and to Kaminiates and his
family. He begins with a grand survey of the city, sitting in a happy spot at
the northwest of the Aegean, telling us about its various physical features,
the surrounding landscape, and the fortifications. He then goes on to describe,
in chronological order, the preparations made against the assault, the battle
for the city, the fall of the defences and subsequent plundering and massacre
which occurred, and how the surviving inhabitants ended up in slavery – John
Kaminiates and his family buying their lives thanks to their personal wealth –
ending up transported across the Mediterranean where they are finally reported
as being still in Arab custody. Kaminiates seems to be a more or less sober
writer about the event, all things considered, recounting in vivid detail the
wider events of the siege as well as his own personal experiences during the
sack and his captivity. There has been scholarly debate on whether this source
is authentic or not, as the surviving manuscripts originated in the later
centuries of Byzantium, but I personally see no reason why this account would
be a mere fabrication. I see here a citizen of the later Roman empire
describing the fall of his home city. Why would anyone go to the efforts of
making this up?
So
here then is a brief look at the sources about the reign of the
Macedonian-dynasty emperor Leo VI the wise. As I said before, the main
narrative histories are still predominantly in Greek, though I can offer a
cursory recommendation for the chronicle of John Skylitzes, which has been
translated into English. Though I will look at this chronicle in more detail in
future, it largely repeats information found in Theophanes Continuatus,
covering the same ground and repeating much of the information merely reworded
and occasionally re-edited. As such it is about the only Byzantine narrative
history which covers the reigns of this early Macedonian Dynasty which has yet
been translated, so perhaps this chronicle is worth reading as an introductory
text. The remaining sources which I have examined are all to do specifically
with Leo VI, whether it be ostensibly written under his own command or to do
with critical events during his reign. The Vita of the Patriarch
Euthymios is a hagiographical source which offers an insight into critical
political events, as well as offering an insight into Leo himself and his
character; the Taktika is a hefty military manual which tells us about
the Byzantine military and its practices at the turn of the 10th
century, while John Kaminiates’ account of the fall of Thessaloniki details an
important event in the Byzantine provinces as well as giving us a glimpse into
middle-Byzantine provincial life. I offer a personal recommendation for the
last of these sources, as Kaminiates’ Thessaloniki and its fall is a brilliant
account, and is perhaps my favourite Byzantine source in translation thus far.
If you have a chance then maybe have a look at it, as it’s not that long and it
is thoroughly readable.
Bibliozantium 10
Theophanes
Continuatus, Ioannes Cameniata, Symeon
Magister, Georgius Monachus, I. Bekker (ed). Bonn. [Corpus Scriptorum
Historiae Byzantinae], 45, (1838).
Symeonis Magistri et Logothetae:
chronicon, S. Wahlgren (ed). [Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae], 44/1,
(Berlin, 2006).
Ioannis Caminiatae de expugnatione Thessalonicae,
G. Böhlig (ed). [Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae], 4, (Berlin, 1973).
John
Skylitzes. Ioannis Scylitzae Synopsis Historiarum. I. Thurn (ed).
[Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae], 5, (Berlin, 1973). Translated by J.
Wortley. [Cambridge University Press]
(Cambridge 2010).
Vita
Euthymii Patriarchae CP, P. Karlin-Hayter (ed). [Editions de Byzantion],
(Brussels, 1970)
The Taktika of Leo VI, G.T.
Dennis (ed). [Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae], 49, (Washington D.C, 2010).
John Kaminiates. The Capture of
Thessaloniki. Translated by D. Frendo and A. Fotiou. [Byzantina
Australiensa], 12, (Perth, 2000).
[Gnotes for
navigating this Bibliogasm: The first entry here is the 1838 Bonn edition of
the text of Theophanes Continuatus, which is bundled in with John
Kaminiates (Latin: Ioannes Cameniata), the chronicle of Symeon Magister the
supposed Logothete, and of George the Monk a 9th century chronicler.
The text is in Greek with a Latin translation, but is otherwise freely
available on Google Books. The next two entries on the list are the updated
Corpus Fontium Greek editions of Symeon the supposed Logothete and John
Kaminiates. John Skylitzes, you’ll see next, is an 11th century
chronicle which borrows heavily from Theophanes Continuatus, and is
worth reading if you want the lowdown on Leo VI, Romanos I, Constantine VII and
Romanos II. The final three entries are the Vita Euthymii, the Taktika
of Leo VI and John Kaminiates’ account, all with Greek text but with a
facing English translation].
