THE REIGN OF ISAAC COMNENUS **197

44. Having inherited the throne, Comnenus, always the man of action, lost no time in making himself complete master of the Empire. From the very beginning he personally supervised the affairs of state.**198 In the evening on which he entered the palace, and before he had time to shake off the dust of battle or to change his clothes and order baths for the morrow, he was issuing instructions to the army and the people of the city. There was no pause for rest. He reminded me of a man who has barely escaped a mighty storm at sea, and after swimming for his life, has been lucky enough to reach harbour but has not yet spat the salt brine out of his mouth or recovered his breath. The rest of that day, and all that night, he spent on matters of state.

45. His army had flocked into the city, at least those who had risked their lives with him and dared to face danger in his ranks, and Isaac was afraid they might run amok in the streets, or, trusting in his indulgence, cause trouble for the civil population. His first care, therefore, was to pay them the usual tributes and send them off to their own countries. They were to rest at home for a while and report to the colours later, in order to serve under the emperor in [231] war against the barbarians. It was supposed that the operation of disbandment would take place in a matter of months, but one had scarcely time to guess his plans before he dispersed these forces and withdrew them from the capital. He reminded them individually of their deeds in the war, decorating some for bravery in the field, others for distinguished leadership; for others he had some word of commendation. All alike were mentioned in some way and received their appropriate reward from the new emperor. For my own part, I was glad to see them go. The affair reminded me of clouds in the sky suddenly penetrated by the sun, its bright rays scattering the shadows.

46. So the city was freed of the troublesome presence of the soldiers and the inhabitants marvelled at the way in which Isaac had handled them. A great future was predicted for his reign. This was natural enough, for his actions had already confounded their expectations and the future promised to surpass their wildest dreams. In fact, they anticipated a time of wonderful prosperity. With regard to the emperor's character, people who met him only at certain times, when he was seated on his throne, in the process of dealing with state affairs, or giving audience to some embassy, or uttering the most dreadful threats against the barbarians, had the impression that he was abrupt and hard.**199 To such folk it was inconceivable that there could be a softer side to the man's character. But if one saw him in his home-life, or choosing his officials, one realized the extraordinary duality of Isaac's nature. It was like hearing the string; of some musical instrument pitched to one certain note, but producing two sounds, one soft, the other harsh. I myself have seen

him in both moods, in moments of tension and moments of relaxation, and in my opinion his character was indeed twofold. When he was relaxing, it was incredible to me that he would ever concentrate again; when he was fiercely concentrated on some purpose, that he would ever relax again or forget his serious deliberations and come down to earth. He was so gracious and pleasant in the one case, and in the other — why, even his face changed, his eyes flashed, and his brow, to put it metaphorically, hung threatening over the clear light of his soul like some dark cloud.**200

47. When the throne was ready for him and the senators were standing in groups on either side of it, Isaac would at once relapse into silence, a perfect imitation of Xenocrates's**201 picture, his mind [232] open, as it were, to receive ideas. This silence of his struck no little fear into the hearts of the senate. Some stood rooted to the spot, as if they had been hit by lightning, in the same position as when the thunderbolt fell, dry and bloodless, like men without souls. Others reacted differently: one standing stiffly to attention, another folding his arms more tightly than usual across his chest, a third staring at the ground. Another (and this was true of them all, for they were all filled with terror) repressed a desire to move by sheer will-power, shifting his posture as quietly and unobtrusively as he could. Every time the emperor refused his consent to proposals set before him, their breath would come fast, and you recognized the change in them by the beating of their hearts.

48. More than any other man he was laconic in the extreme, not expressing all his ideas in so many words, yet leaving no doubt as to his meaning. Those who describe Lysias**202 (the orator Lysias, the son of Cephalus) attribute to him, among other virtues to which they bear witness, the ability to bridle his eloquence at the appropriate moment. They tell us, moreover, that despite his command of language, he was satisfied with saying only what was essential, so that his audience might infer from them those things that were left unsaid. In the same way Isaac also had a tongue which by gentle showers, so to speak, and not by heavy rain, fattened the nature ready to receive them, and as the moisture quietly sank deep into the soil, he aroused his listeners to the knowledge of what had been passed over in silence. The truth was that he wished to avoid refutation, and being now emperor and lord of all, he had no desire to foster any inopportune rivalry with himself in the sphere of eloquence.

49. For that reason he left the study of rhetoric to us lesser folk, and to ordinary citizens. In his case, a nod, a movement of the hand, an inclination of the head to one side or the other, were all that he considered necessary to indicate his wishes. He was not particularly conversant with the laws, so he improvised a legal procedure of his own. For instance, where a verdict had to be pronounced, he would not take the initiative himself, but refer the matter to his judges, and when they decided the case, he used to support the majority, and only then would he take the lead and record his vote, all the time pretending that his own judgment had been uninfluenced by the others. To avoid any mistake in legal phraseology, he left that to his [233] juniors, but invariably he added something which he said should have been included in the documents, or else erased something on the ground that it was superfluous.

50. When dealing with ambassadors he pursued no set policy, except that he always held converse with them dressed in the most magnificent apparel. On those occasions he poured out a flood of words, more abundant than the rising Nile in Egypt or Euphrates plashing against the shores of Assyria. He made peace wich those who desired it, but with the threat of war if they transgressed so much as one term or his treaty. Such was the contract he made with Parthia and Egypt. In the case of other nations, however, he was not so agreeable. Some, having ceded many towns and surrendered their armed forces, were even prepared to leave their native soil and emigrate at once, but Isaac refused his consent and they were ordered to remain quietly where they were. He did this, not because he grudged the Roman Empire the acquisition of new territory, but because he knew that an imperialist policy of that sort could not be effected without much expenditure of money and men, as well as a sufficient reserve. Where these were lacking, expansion became merely a diminution of strength. On most of the barbarian generals he cast aspersions — I have myself heard these things being said — charging them with want of manliness and reprimanding them for the careless manner in which they carried out their duties as officers. Their morale had fallen very low, but he revived it, with the intention of using them as a bulwark against the aggression of stronger nations.

51. What I have written is sufficient eulogy for Isaac. If in addition there is some lesson to be drawn for the future, that task is one the historian will find to his liking. I will try to do so. In other matters than the civil administration he advanced the welfare of his empire by gradual progress, and had he followed the same policy in the nonmilitary sphere also, by purging the state of its rotten elements, first reducing the gross evil and then applying his remedy, two things would have happened: he himself would have earned undying honour, and the body politic would not have been brought to utter ruin. But Isaac wanted to revolutionize everything. He was eager to lose no time in cutting out the dead wood which had long been accumulating in the Roman Empire. We can liken it to a monstrous body, a body with a multitude of heads, an ugly bull-neck, hands [234] so many that they were beyond counting, and just as many feet; its entrails were festering and diseased, in some parts swollen, in others wasting away, here afflicted with dropsy, there diminishing with consumption. Now Isaac tried to remedy this by wholesale surgery.**203 He attempted to get rid of the bulges and restore the body to a normal shape, to take away this and build up that, to heal the intestines and breathe into this monster some life-giving breath, but the task was beyond him, and in consequence he lacked faith in his own success. However, to avoid any confusion in our history let us first explain how our body politic got into this gross condition, then how Isaac attempted to cut out its rottenness, and thirdly, how these efforts of his were not universally successful. When I have done all this, I will add an account of the end of his reign and finish my history.

52. After the death of Basil the Great (Basil the son of Romanus,**204 whose family inherited the Empire to the third generation) his brother, Romanus's younger son, succeeded to the throne. He inherited great wealth, for Basil had been emperor for many years, longer than any other sovereign, and had made himself master of many nations whose riches he transferred to the imperial treasury. In Basil's reign, therefore, the revenues vastly exceeded expenditure; and when he died immense sums were at the disposal of his brother Constantine. The latter was already an old man: many years had passed before he finally realized his ambition. Yet, once that ambition was attained, he not only made no attempt to win military renown and add to the dominions he possessed but did not even care to preserve the bounds of his power inviolate. On the contrary, he plunged into a life of pleasure, determined to squander and spend everything, and if death had not quickly carried him off, Constantine alone would have sufficed to the destruction of the Empire.

53. He was the first emperor to corrupt and swell out the body politic, partly by fattening some of his subjects with great wealth, partly by raising them to positions of honour and giving them opportunities to live in depravity and vice. At his death, his kinsman Romanus became emperor, with the intention of being a real autocrat. The family of the Porphyrogeniti**205 was now extinct, and Romanus's ambition was to lay firm foundations of a rival dynasty. In order, therefore, that the civil population, as well as the military class, might be ready and willing to accept the principle of hereditary [235] succession in his own family, he proceeded to anticipate their approval with the distribution of largess on a generous scale, thus adding to a body which was already gross, and aggravating the disease, and filling the corrupted part with superfluous fat. His ambitions ended, however, in utter failure, not only in his ideas about his family, but also in his hopes of bequeathing to his descendants a well-organized state.

54. At his death, Michael ascended the throne. He stopped most of the evil practices, but he was not strong enough to deny some small additions of fat to this body, so accustomed to its nourishment of bad juices and unwholesome, fat-making, foods. Even Michael contributed somewhat to its grossness, however niggardly. Doubtless he would have perished on the spot if he had not followed, in some small measure, the policy of his predecessors. On the other hand, had Michael continued a few years longer in power, his subjects would one day have learnt to live wisely. In any case, a bursting-point was inevitable one day, for they were gorged to the limit of well-being.

55. This emperor also having quickly met his end — I will pass over his nephew who, after a wretched reign, came to an even more wretched death — Constantine Euergetes, the nickname by which he is known to most folk (I refer to Monomachus), succeeded to the imperial throne. He took over the state as though it were a merchantman loaded to the safety-line, so that it barely topped the wash of the waves, and having crammed it up to the very decks, he sank it. To put it more plainly, and at the same time revert to my former comparison, he first added a host of new limbs and new parts to a body already long-corrupted, injected into its entrails liquids even more unwholesome, and then, having done this, took it out of its natural state and deprived it of peaceful and civilized existence. He practically drove it mad and brought it to the verge of savagery, by making many-headed, hundred-handed, monsters of the majority of his subjects. After him, the Empress Theodora became sovereign, with more legal claim to power. Although she apparently refrained from reducing this strange animal to a state of complete insanity, yet even she imperceptibly added some hands and a few feet to it.

56. Theodora's drama played out to its finish, the reins were put into the hands of the old man Michael. Unable to bear the move- [235] ment of the imperial chariot, with his horses running away with him from the start, he made the show more confused than ever, and being scared out of his wits at the uproar, he retired from the race and took his place by the non-runners. Of course he ought to have held on; he should have kept a pretty tight hold on the bit. In practice, however, he was like a man who is dismissed the service — in his case, the throne — and returns to his former manner of life.

57. Here then we have the first crisis. The greater part of the nation had been changed from men into beasts. They had been fattened up to such an extent that it was necessary to administer purgative drugs, and that in considerable doses. A second course of treatment was demanded — I mean, of course, surgical operations, cauterization, cathartics. The opportunity for healing recurred and Isaac Comnenus, wearing his crown, climbed into the Roman chariot. In order that we may consider him, too, in the light of allegory, let us liken his position partly to that of a charioteer, partly to that of a doctor.

58. Isaac was a devotee of the philosophic life: he abhorred anything that was physically diseased or corrupt. But his hopes were disappointed, for he found nothing but disease and festering sores, the imperial horses running at full speed from the starting-post, quite impossible to master, heedless of the reins. In the one case he ought to have waited for the appropriate moment before he applied surgical remedies and cautery; it was wrong to operate on the internal organs with the surgeon's heated iron without reasonable premeditation. In the case of the horses, the right course was to discipline them gently with the reins, and break them in, caress them lightly in a professional way, and make a fuss of them, then climb aboard his chariot and give them the rein, after the style of Philip's son when he taught Bucephalus to answer the bit.**206 But Isaac wanted to see the chariot borne along on a straight course at once, before this initial training. He wanted to see the sick body restored to health immediately. What with his burning and cutting here, and his mighty pulling and tugging with the reins on his runaway horses there, he somehow or other failed to notice that he himself had caught the disease before he got control over these troubles and restored them to order. Do not imagine that I am finding fault with the man for trying. I do accuse him, though, for choosing the wrong time for his unsuccessful efforts. As for the third stage of the disease, that must wait. Let us dwell on the second a little longer. [237]

59. As I have often remarked, the emperors before Isaac exhausted the imperial treasures an personal whims. The public revenues were expended not on the organization of the army, but on favours to civilians and on magnificent shows. Finally, to ensure that after their death the funerals should be more impressive and the interment more extravagant, they prepared monuments of Phrygian or Italian marble, or of Proconnesian slab. Houses were then built round them and churches lent them sanctity. Groves were planted, while parks and meadows encircled the whole area. Then, as they had to enrich their places of meditation (the name they invented for these buildings) with money and possessions, they not only emptied the palace treasury, but even cut into the money contributed by the people to the public revenues. Nor were they satisfied with the presentation of a mere sufficiency to their places of meditation (we had better call them that). The imperial wealth was divided into three parts: one to pay for their pleasures, another to glorify their new-fangled buildings, and a third to enable these who were naturally lazy and made no contribution to the balancing of the nation's budget, to live in luxury and bring dishonour on the practice and name of virtue, while the military were being stinted and treated harshly. The present emperor, of course, had been commander-in chief of the army. He was already aware, for many reasons, of the cause of the Roman Empire's contemptible state. He knew why it was that our neighbors prospered while all our affairs had declined, and why not one Roman had been able to put a stop to the attacks and robberies carried out by barbarians. When he had the additional prestige conferred by the title of 'Emperor', Isaac at once rooted up the cause of our troubles. So far his actions were worthy of his exalted position, but I am by no means disposed to commend his efforts to do everything at once. However, let me describe what he did.

60. In the first place, once he had taken the government on his own shoulders — from the moment of his coronation indeed — and once he had, by his coronation, legalized his position as emperor, his policy was radically opposed to that of the aged Michael. Donations which Michael had given, Isaac took away; wherever Michael had done something of note, Isaac destroyed it. Then, becoming gradually more bold, he went too far in his reforms, and here too he wiped out and rescinded much of Michael's work. Quite a number [238] of his measures he completely annulled. The consequence was that the people came to hate him, and no small section of the army agreed with them — all those soldiers, in fact, who found themselves deprived of their wealth by their new ruler. Having gone so far, instead of relaxing his programme somewhat, he went further, like the grammarian who in analysis starts with the complex and then proceeds to the simple. He classed under one heading the acts of his predecessors, thus attacking all and bringing all into discredit at once. In pursuit of such a policy it was inevitable that he should add to his other victims the priests of the Church. Indeed, he cut off the greater part of the monies set apart for their sacred buildings, and having transferred these sums to the public funds, he estimated the bare necessities for the clergy, thereby making the name 'place of meditation' really appropriate. He did this with the insouciance of a man picking up a grain of sand from the seashore. He just set his hand to the task, and it was all done without the slightest commotion. Indeed, I never saw any man on earth so deliberate in his reasoning; or so quiet in the execution of vast ideas.

61. This conduct at the time seriously alarmed most of his subjects, but after a while the majority became more resigned to it. Obviously, if men wished to vilify the emperor's actions, it was sufficient for him to point out that they were in the public interest. And the policy would have been hailed with applause, if only the emperor, like a man who has swum to shore out of the sea, had given himself some time to get back his breath. Isaac, however, did not know what it was to lie at anchor for a while, or rest in harbour. On the contrary, he braved the sea a second time, a different sea this time, and then a third, and after that a greater and most fearful one, as if he were not merely engaged in stirring up the waves of politics, but in cleaning up the dung of Augeas's stable.**207

62. As I have emphasized before, if this emperor had chosen the proper time for his reforms; if he had condemned one practice, shall we say, and allowed another to stand for the time being, destroying it at some later date; if, after the amputation, he had rested before attempting another operation; if he had advanced thus, step by step, in his extermination of evil, quietly and without attracting attention like the Creator in Plato, this man who, like him, had inherited a world — in his case the world of politics — in a state of flux, without harmony, without order, then he too, I affirm, would have brought [239] it back from chaos to calm, and he too would have introduced real harmony into the affairs of state. God is described by Moses, the leader of His people, as creating the universe in six days, but if Isaac did not complete his whole task in a single day, he reckoned the failure intolerable, such was the excessive zeal with which he tried to accomplish his purpose. Nothing on earth restrained him, no proffering of wiser counsels, no fear for the future, no hatred of the mob, none of the other factors which, in normal men, curb vanity or check mighty ambition. Had some rein kept him under control, he would have overrun the whole inhabited world, country by country. He would have won glory on every battlefield, and none of the emperors before him would have been his rival.**208 But lack of restraint, refusal to accept reason as his guide, these were the ruin of his noble character.

63. I have described more or less, the alarm and confusion he caused in the political world. In the world of foreign affairs, his ambition was to effect a union of the eastern and western barbarians. They themselves were heartily afraid of him. For the first time they changed their usual tactics. Having observed the quality of the man they had to deal with, instead of pursuing an aggressive strategy they sought safety in obscurity. The Sultan of Parthia, for example, the arch-revolutionary of former times, now adopted an almost retrogressive policy. In no place would he stay for any length of time, had no fixed abode, and — a thing which is really astonishing — went into complete retirement, cutting himself off from intercourse with everyone. The ruler of Egypt, too, even to this day is terrified of the man and still courts his favour with flattery. He even goes so far as to lament Isaac's downfall. The truth is, the emperor's appearance and the emperor's words were as potent as his hands were strong, hands with which he had torn down many a city and destroyed walls defended by thousands of warriors.

64. He preferred to be ignorant of nothing, even down to the smallest detail, but since he knew this to be impossible, he would try to obtain his information by indirect means. He used to send for an expert and, without questioning him on the subject about which he was ignorant, by clever manoeuvring round it, he would make the other reveal what he himself did not know, in such a way that the expert was apparently explaining something that was common knowledge to both of them alike. He often tried to catch me like [240] that too, but when on one occasion I ventured to tell him it was a secret, he was taken aback and blushed as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Being a man of great pride, he had a horror of being rebuked, whether openly or subtly.

65. An example of this is found in his treatment of the Patriarch Michael.**209 The latter had spoken frankly to him on a certain occasion, using language that was somewhat bold. At the time the emperor passed it over and checked his anger, but he cherished resentment deep in his heart. It broke out unexpectedly, and in the belief that he was following a precedent he expelled Michael from the city. He was condemned to exile in a circumscribed area, and it was there that he died. However, I will not explain how this came about now, for it is a long story. If anyone cares to examine the quarrel between these two, he will blame the one for the start of it, the other for its ending, when the emperor cast the patriarch off as if he were a load on his shoulders. One point here that I almost forgot: a messenger returning from a distant mission brought to him the news of the patriarch's death, with the air of a man who was freeing him from all trouble in the future, but Isaac, when he heard of it, his heart immediately touched, bewailed loudly an unusual thing for him — and mourned him deeply. He was sorry for the way he had treated the patriarch and often tried to propitiate his soul. As if to justify himself, or rather to appease the dead man, he at once granted to Michael's family the privilege of speaking freely in his presence, and they were allowed to join his immediate retinue. As Michael's successor in the sacred office, he presented to God and honoured with high rank one whom his previous life had shown to be blameless, one whose eloquence had left him without a rival, even among the most eminent scholars.