THE REIGN OF ROMANUS DIOGENES
10. This emperor, Romanus, son of Diogenes, came of an ancient and distinguished family. Only in one respect was it dishonoured — by his father. The latter had been arrested on a charge of attempted revolution during the reign of Romanus Argyrus and had committed suicide by hurling himself over a precipice. There were occasions when he did act in a straightforward fashion, but for the most part he was a hypocrite and a braggart. Even Romanus himself did not escape the imputation of treachery at the time, but any designs he may have cherished during the rest of his life passed unnoticed, until Eudocia became empress (I have described this lady in the preceding chapters). It was not until her reign that he revealed his secret intentions. He was at once apprehended, and his audacity would have met with its just deserts, had not the empress exercised her clemency on his behalf and saved him from condemnation — an error of judgment on her part. She ought to have put him to death. Instead, she preserved his life, and having done so, she thought that her own supremacy would be assured if she made him emperor. He would, she believed, never again oppose her wishes. It was a reasonable conjecture, but her plans went astray. After pretending for a few days to be her loyal subject, he suddenly reverted to his normal habits. The more she tried to dominate him, to treat him, who was really her master, like a lion in a cage, the more he fretted at her restraining influence and glared at the hand that kept him in check. To begin with, he growled inwardly, but as time passed his disgust became obvious to everyone.**258
11. I must admit that his attitude to myself was one of great deference. The fact is, when he was still a private citizen, he had courted my favour with the most abject servility, and I had in some measure helped him in his career. Far from forgetting these services when he ascended the throne, he showed such affection and regard for me that he would rise up when I came into his presence and treated me as his greatest friend. However, that is by the way and outside the general scope of my narrative. The main point is that he wished to rule unchallenged by anyone else and to govern the Empire entirely on his own. Unfortunately, he had made no notable contribution to public affairs in his previous career. Nevertheless, he waited patiently for the opportunity, and the declaration of war against the Persians [269] owed its origin no less to his personal ambitions than to a desire to safeguard the whole commonwealth.
12. It was my habit to give the emperors useful advice, so I tried to restrain him, pointing out that it was first necessary to discuss the question of military forces, to draw up lists of names, to call on help from abroad, and then, when all preparations had been completed, to declare war. But the babblers who make a habit of contradicting all I say (with a few exceptions) have brought ruin on our affairs. They did it then, and they are doing it now. So the worse opinion prevailed, and he, donning his warlike armour in the palace, taking a shield in his left hand and a spear in his right, 'wellcompacted with bands, twenty-two cubits in length',**259 thought that with the one he could bar the enemy's inroads, while he plunged the other in his adversary's flanks. Others uttered their war-cry, clapped their hands at this, but my face was clouded with gloom, for I guessed what the result of it all would probably be.
13. At all events, he left the city with all his army**260 and advanced against the barbarians, not knowing where he was marching, nor what he was going to do. He wandered over the countryside, planning to go one way, marching by another, traversing Syria, as well as Persia — and all the success he met with was to lead his army into the interior, establish his men on some high hills, bring them down again, cut them off in narrow passes, and suffer heavy casualties through his manoeuvring. However, he returned, still to all appearances victorious. Neither from the Medes nor from the Persians did he bring us any spoils of war. One thing alone satisfied him: that he had marched against his foes.
14. Therein lay his first excuse for vainglory. From now on, he affected contempt for the empress, completely despised the officers of state, refused advice, and — incurable malady of emperors — relied on no counsel, no guidance but his own, under all circumstances without exception. As for myself, I swear by God, the God whom philosophy reveres, that I tried to turn him from his ambitions.**261 I knew his treacherous designs. I feared for the empress and the commonwealths lest all should be lost in revolt and disorder. I reminded him of his solemn undertakings. Wherever possible, I even attempted to frighten him with the prospect of ultimate failure: his schemes might turn to his own destruction. And when, as often happened Eudocia was stirred to indignation at his insults, and [270] when she was grieved, I took both sides and tried by my words to reconcile their differences.
15. Not long afterwards, at the very beginning of spring, **262 in fact, there was trouble from the enemy, and the emperor's previous campaign was shown to have been a hollow triumph. So once more there were preparations for war, and (to pass over the intervening occurrences) I myself took a small part in the expedition. The fact is, he put such overwhelming compulsion on me to join him on the campaign that I could not possibly refuse.**263 I would rather not say anything at the moment of the reason why he was so insistent that I should accompany him, because I am abridging most of this story, but I will speak of it when I write the history of these events. I am still under an obligation in the matter, although nobody can accuse me of any disloyalty to him, nor blame me because all his plans went astray.
16. He agreed that in all matters connected with literature he was my inferior (I am referring here to the sciences), but where military strategy was concerned it was his ambition to surpass me. The knowledge that I was thoroughly conversant with the science of military tactics, that I had made a complete study of everything pertaining to military formations, the building of war-machines, the capture of cities, and all the other things that a general has to consider, this moved him not only to admiration, but also to envy. So far as he could, he argued against me, and tried to outdo me in these debates. Many of those who shared that campaign with us will know that this description is not exaggerated.
17. This second war of his was no more successful than the first. It was, in fact, altogether indecisive and the enemy held their own everywhere. If our men fell in their tens of thousands, while a mere handful of our adversaries were taken prisoner, at least we were not beaten — and we succeeded in making a lot of noise at the barbarians! The result of it all was that Romanus became more proud and more insolent than ever, because, forsooth, he had twice commanded an army. He lost respect for everything, and — worse still — the evil counsellors to whom he listened led him completely astray.
18. As for the empress, he treated her like a captive taken in war. For next to nothing he would have agreed even to drive her out of the palace. The Caesar**264 he suspected, and on several occasions hastened to arrest him and put him to death, but changed his mind [271] afterwards and gave up the idea. For the present, at all events, he was content to bind him and his sons to swear on oath that they would be loyal. Having no reasonable pretext for carrying out the plans which he secretly cherished against the Caesar, he set out on his third and last expedition against the barbarians,**265 who were now distinctly hostile. Actually, they were engaged in plundering raids on Roman territory and as soon as spring came, they overran it in considerable force. So Romanus once again left the capital to fight them, accompanied by a larger contingent of allies and native troops than before.**266
19. With his usual contempt of all advice, whether on matters civil or military, he at once set out with his army and hurried to Caesarea. Having reached that objective, he was loth to advance any further and tried to find excuses for returning to Byzantium, not only for his own sake but for the army's. When he found the disgrace involved in such a retreat intolerable, he should have come to terms with the enemy and put a stop to their annual incursions. Instead, whether in desperation, or because he was more confident than he should have been, he marched to the attack, without taking adequate measures to protect his rear. The enemy, seeing him advance, decided to lure him on still further and ensnare him by cunning. They therefore rode on ahead of him and then retired again, as though the retreat was planned. By carrying out this manoeuvre several times, they succeeded in cutting off some of our generals, who were taken captive.**267
20. Now I was aware (though he was not) that the Sultan himself, the King of the Persians and Kurds, was present in person with his army, and most of their victories were due to his leadership. Romanus refused to believe anyone who detected the Sultan's influence in these successes. The truth is, he did not want peace. He thought he would capture the barbarian camp without a battle. Unfortunately for him, through his ignorance of military science, he had scattered his forces; some were concentrated round himself, others had been sent off to take up some other position. So, instead of opposing his adversaries with the full force of his army, less than half were actually involved.**268
21. Although I cannot applaud his subsequent behaviour, it is impossible for me to censure him. The fact is, he bore the whole brunt of the danger himself. His action can be interpreted in two [272] ways. My own view represents the mean between these two extremes. On the one hand, if you regard him as a hero, courting danger and fighting courageously it is reasonable to praise him: on the other when one reflects that a general, if he conforms to the accepted rules of strategy must remain aloof from the battle-line, supervising the movements of his army and issuing the necessary orders to the men under his command, then Romanus's conduct on this occasion would appear foolhardy in the extreme, for he exposed himself to danger without a thought of the consequences. I myself am more inclined to praise than to blame him for what he did.**269
22. However that may be, he put on the full armour of an ordinary soldier and drew sword against his enemies. According to several of any informants, he actually killed many of them and put others to flight. Later, when his attackers recognized who he was, they surrounded him on all sides. He was wounded**270 and fell from his horse. They seized him, of course, and the Emperor of the Romans was led away, a prisoner, to the enemy camp, and his army was scattered. Those who escaped were but a tiny faction of the whole. Of the majority some were taken captive, the rest massacred.
23. I do not intend at this moment to write of the time spent by the emperor in captivity or of the attitude adopted towards him by his conqueror. That must wait till later. A few days after the battle one of those who had escaped, arriving before his comrades, brought the terrible news to the City. He was followed by a second messenger, and by others. The picture they painted was by no means distinct, for each explained the disaster in his own fashion, some saying that Romanus was dead, others that he was only a prisoner; some again declared that they had seen him wounded and hurled to the ground, while others had seen him being led away, in chains, to the barbarian camp. In view of this information, a conference was held in the capital, and the empress considered our future policy. The unanimous decision of the meeting was that, for the time being, they should ignore the emperor, whether he was a prisoner, or dead, and that Eudocia and her sons should carry on the government of the Empire.
24. At this conference some councillors wished Michael, and his young brother, to control the administration entirely: their mother was to take no active part whatever. Others again favoured the complete restoration of Eudocia's rule, to the exclusion of her sons. For my own part, neither solution of the problem seemed satisfactory. My personal opinion — I will speak frankly — was that both should act in concert: the son should pay her respect, because she was his mother, and she should govern the whole Empire as sovereign on equal terms with her son. This was in fact the proposal which the emperor Michael himself favoured and he supported me. There were persons who wished to get supreme power for themselves and to govern the state for their own profit, and these were just the people who urged her to rule alone. At the same time they were busily engaged in trying to force a quarrel between Michael and his mother.
25. It is difficult for me, at this stage, to express adequately the admiration I feel for this young man. He discussed the constitutional question with me privately, and he was prepared, if his mother so desired to abdicate. He was most anxious to avoid any mark of disrespect for her: at all costs she must be treated with all due consideration. Again and again I managed to effect a settlement between them, but Michael was so obsessed with the idea that he must never oppose his mother, that even the thought of meeting her face to face would cause him to blush. He insisted on humiliating himself altogether. Such was the position, with the whole matter still undecided, when the Caesar arrived in the city, at Eudocia's invitation, and lent his support to my scheme. He was strongly in favour of joint-rule by the family.
26. This trouble had not completely died down before another howling tempest broke over our heads, and on the self-same day. The commander-in-chief of the enemy forces, when he perceived that the Roman emperor had fallen into his hands, instead of exulting in his triumph, was quite overcome by his own extraordinary success. He celebrated his victory with a moderation that was beyond all expectation. Offering his condolences to the captive, he shared his own table with him, treated him as an honoured guest, gave him a bodyguard, loosed from their chains those prisoners he cared to name and set them free. Finally, he restored liberty to Romanus himself also, and after making a treaty of friendship and after receiving from him assurances on oath that he would loyally abide by the agreements they had made, sent him back to Roman territory, with as numerous an escort and bodyguard as anyone could wish for.**271 Actually, this proved to be the beginning of trouble, the main [274] cause of a multitude of disasters. The emperor, having obtained more concessions than he had thought possible, was under the impression that he would now recover his throne without any difficulty, and to signalize the good fortune that had followed on his defeat, he wrote a letter in his own handwriting to the empress, telling her of all his adventures.
27. Immediately there was wild confusion in the palace, with comings and goings everywhere. Some professed astonishment at the news, others would not believe it. Eudocia found herself in an embarrassing position. She was unable to decide what to do next. When I myself arrived in the midst of the turmoil there was general demand that I should advise on the best policy. My beloved emperor (Michael) was particularly insistent and joined the others in urging me to speak. I declared, therefore, that it was no longer necessary to receive Romanus in the Empire: he should be outlawed and instructions should be forwarded to every place in the Roman dominions that his reign was over. The moderate element were convinced that this policy was in our best interests, but the opposition favoured a different plan.
28. That was the state of affairs, when Michael, fearing for his own safety and distrusting the cruel nature of Diogenes, decided on his own course of action. The plan he adopted undoubtedly saved him and it was admittedly a wise move. He cut himself off from his mother and henceforth became his own master. Then, on the advice of his cousins, the Caesar's sons,**272 he won over to his allegiance the palace guards.**273 (These men are, without exception armed with shields and the rhomphaia, a one-edged sword of heavy iron which they carry suspended from the right shoulder.) Well, the guards banged on their shields all together, bawled their heads off as they shouted their war-cry, clashed sword on sword, with answering quells, and went off in a body to the emperor, thinking he was in danger. Then, forming a circle about him, so that no one could approach, they carried him off to the upper parts of the palace.
29. So much for them. Meanwhile those who were with the empress — and I was one of that number — not knowing what was happening, were almost petrified with fear. We thought that terrible things were about to befall us. The empress did indeed lose her nerve, and pulling her veil over her head she ran off to a secret crypt below ground. While she was hiding in the depths of this cavern, [275] I stayed by the opening that led to it. I had no idea what to do, nor nowhere to turn for safety. However, once his own security was guaranteed, Michael remembered me. I was the first person he thought of, and messengers were sent to all parts of the palace, to find out where I was. Having discovered my whereabouts, they lifted me up in their arms and carried me in cheerful triumph to their sovereign, as if I were some lucky find, or some precious gift. And he, as soon as he set eyes on me, was like a man who breathes a sigh of relief when a storm has passed. At once he handed over to me the responsibility of taking all decisions that might be necessary.
30. So I busied myself with affairs of state. There were plans to be made, precautions to be taken, if the administration of the City was to ride this storm. Meanwhile the others were dealing with the question of the dowager empress. To cut a long story short, it was decreed that she must leave the city and live in a convent that she herself had founded by the sea in honour of Mary, the Mother of God.**274 No time was lost in carrying out this decision, although her son refused to ratify it: he could not agree to his mother's exile. I know that for a fact, and I am prepared to maintain it before all the world, with God as my witness. The truth is, circumstances were too strong for him and overruled his own wishes.
31. In matters of this kind, history is apt to repeat itself. You find the same sort of things happening, the same sort of things being said. In this case, men differed widely in their opinions about the empress, and a constant stream of propaganda was directed against her. The result was a second decree, to the effect that she must now take the veil of a nun. Without more ado, this order was also carried out, and the empress's career was brought to an abrupt conclusion.
32. Diogenes, meanwhile, instead of rejoicing in his deliverance, was filled with chagrin at the prospect of losing his throne. Actually, a large body of soldiers had already flocked to his standard, and as he moved from place to place, with the comforting knowledge that there was no one to oppose him, he appropriated to his own use the money from the public funds. Finally he arrived with his army at the famous city of Amasea, the place that everyone is talking about.
33. Michael's immediate answer to this was to appoint the Caesar's younger son**275 commander-in-chief of the Roman army. The new general was a man of great energy, blest with a quick wit and a [276] remarkable flair for discerning the right course of action, and for explaining it in language that all could understand. Having approached the city — Diogenes had already established himself in Amasea — he first concentrated his army. This done, he began series of skirmishes, using all manner of wily tricks in order to capture his opponent, or else drive him out of the city. As his position grew steadily worse, Diogenes made a daring sally and drew up the whole of his forces in battle-array against the attacker. In the ensuing struggle, both sides suffered considerable losses. Our general charged the enemy like a horseman on wings, and falling on the hostile ranks, a veritable tower of strength, forced them back and smashed their line in many places. Some of those who resisted fell fighting on the battlefield, others were captured, while a small number escaped by flight. Among these last was Diogenes, riding as fast as his horse could carry him. For the first time we had reason to feel confident in the future.
34. As a matter of fact this defeat marked the beginning of Diogenes's downfall. With a handful of his followers, he took refuge in a minor fortress,**276 and he would very soon have fallen into our hands, but for the intervention of someone else.**277 An Armenian by birth, a crafty individual opposed to us on principle this man had been promoted to high rank by Diogenes, while he was still reigning emperor, and now, seeing in the latter's present misfortune an opportunity to repay the favours he had received from him in the past, he came to meet him with a considerable band of soldiers. He encouraged Romanus to take heart, made him wonderful promises, and instead of allowing him to fight our troops, carried him off to Cilicia. The remote valleys of that country, he argued would give him a respite from our attacks. Next he equipped an army for him, gave him money, clothed him in the robes of an emperor, and then, having armed him for battle, the clever rogue waited for a favourable chance to renew the struggle against us.
35. Once again, therefore, we held a council and debated our future policy. One party was in favour of making peace. It was better, they contended, to allow him some share in the governments and to do nothing more in the matter. Others were determined to prosecute the war and make sure that he had no second chance to embark on his reckless schemes. Well, we decided to try and make peace first. A friendly and sympathetic letter was despatched to him [277] from the emperor. Diogenes, however, regarded Michael's kindly attitude as an outrageous insult. He maintained that he himself was entirely free from blame, and he proceeded to make specific demands. He refused to abdicate or in any way moderate his claims to the throne. In fact, to judge from his reply, he was more presumptuous than his plotting had led us to believe.
36. So the emperor was reluctantly compelled to abandon his plans for peace. Andronicus was given command of the imperial armies, the elder of the Caesar's sons. This Andronicus was an amazingly tall man, generous, kindly, and extremely fair. He was now entrusted with the conduct of all the forces of the Eastern Command, and was sent out to do battle with the enemy. His first object was to instil into his army a corporate spirit: the loyalties of his men must be centred in one common object. With this in view, he treated all ranks with meticulous fairness. He tried to understand his soldiers as individuals, and to prove that he was their friend. His second object was to escape Diogenes's notice when he drew near the passes into Cilicia, to make his way quietly through the tortuous mountain defiles, and after traversing all the difficult parts, to present himself unexpectedly before the enemy. Our men set about this task, and in accordance with the plan, they marched through the pass on a narrow precipitous path. Meanwhile the emperor was terribly worried in case his rival should be caught by our soldiers, and either fall fighting, or having been taken alive be mutilated in some part of his body.
37. Many a time I have seen him weep over this, risking his own life if only his adversary might be spared any suffering. The man was his friend, he said, and there were covenants between them, which he was afraid might be broken. So certain priests, men of peace, were entrusted with a friendly message to Diogenes.**278 They had a letter from Michael, in which he made all kinds of promises, but at the same time counselled him, stubborn as he was, to submit.
38. Before this message arrived, however, Diogenes was already engaged in war. He himself remained inside the fortress**279 previously seized by him with a handful of men, but practically all his army was under the command of the Armenian Chatatoures, whom I mentioned in a preceding chapter, and had been sent out to do battle, apparently with every chance of success. The Armenian, advancing with infantry and cavalry, had seized the points of van-[278]tage before our men arrived, and his forces were drawn up in battle order. For the most part, they were fine physical specimens, and most eager for combat.
39. Facing Chatatoures, with his army also arranged for battle was Andronicus. Before the soldiers formed up in close order and the two armies came to grips, Crispinus the Frank**280 (I am writing these words on the very day he died) was standing with Andronicus and they were encouraging one another. This Crispinus had at first appeared as an enemy to the Romans, but later he changed his attitude, and his new loyalty was no less evident than his former hostility. Seeing Diogenes's men now prepared for battle, Crispinus exhorted Andronicus to trust him, saying that he was going to charge the enemy cavalry. With that, he and his men rode at full gallop against their centre. He cut right through the ranks, and when he saw resistance was feeble, the rebels only withstanding his attack for a few moments and then running away, he pursued the fugitives with a handful of his knights. Thus he inflicted heavy losses and took still more prisoners.
40. Diogenes's army was broken and routed. Andronicus, meanwhile, returned in triumph with Crispinus to the tent which had been prepared for him. Later, one of the knights came up, bringing to the general an enemy captive. It was the Armenian Chatatoures. In the flight, he said, he had fallen from his horse at a ditch and had crept under a bush. One of the pursuers had spotted him and would have made short work of him, but when he saw the Armenian's tears, he merely stripped him of his clothes and went away, leaving him naked under the bush. Then a second warrior, seeing him in this sorry plight, rushed up to kill him, but Chatatoures told him that if he would spare him and take him away to a certain general (whom he mentioned by name), he would be most handsomely rewarded. Recognizing who the man was, Andronicus felt doubly victorious. However, clothes and equipment were provided for him, and though he was kept a prisoner, no constraint was put upon him, as befitted a brave leader.
41. Diogenes, of course, could feel no confidence in the small remnants of his army, but he still hoped that assistance would speedily come from his Persian allies.**281 Indeed, he encouraged his men with this assurance and held out prospects of relief in the near future. Yet the very troops on whose loyalty he was relying, the men [279] to whom he had entrusted the keys of his garrison, were the first to betray him. Actually, they made an agreement with our general, and being promised on oath that they themselves would suffer no harm, they threw the gates wide open and admitted our soldiers. Then they led them to the house where Diogenes was living. There he stood, a strange, melancholy spectacle, all his hopes gone, his hands fettered as though he were a slave, surrendering himself unconditionally to his captors. At once he was forced to don the black robe of a monk, and taking off his headdress, he allowed his hair to be cut short, not caring who did it. So the ceremony of initiation was hurriedly performed, not by the persons who should have carried it out, but by individuals who chanced to be there. Having made him a monk, they then led him out of his fortress and, with the greatest joy imaginable, took him off to Andronicus. Instead of receiving him in a high-handed, arrogant fashion, he actually sympathized with the prisoner. He shook hands and invited him to his own tent. Finally, he asked him to be his guest at table, where a magnificent banquet was prepared.
42. So far the story has proceeded without a hitch: I have taken you along 'the royal, smooth highway', as the Holy Scripture has it. To pass on to what happened thereafter is a most disagreeable task. I am reluctant to describe a deed that should never have taken place. And yet, if I may alter my words slightly, it was a deed that should have taken place by all means. On the one hand, the scruples of religion, as well as a natural unwillingness to inflict pain, would forbid such a deed: on the contrary side, the state of affairs at the time, and the possibility of sudden changes in the fortunes of both parties, proclaimed that it must be done. The thing came about as follows. The more enthusiastic element in the emperor's council were afraid that Diogenes might succeed in his plots and once more embarrass the new sovereign. So, concealing their intentions from Michael, they wrote a letter to a certain person who was conveniently able to carry them out, with orders to blind him.**282
43. The emperor was quite ignorant of what was being done — and God knows I am not saying that to flatter Michael. This is a perfectly true account. When, therefore, he found out, too late, what had occurred, he wept more bitterly even than Diogenes did before undergoing his torture. The news had the most distressing effect on him. Indeed, Michael did not leap for joy, or show any other sign [280] of pleasure, even when he first heard that his enemy had been take prisoner. There is no doubt but that he would have long continued to mourn him openly, had he not feared public resentment. As or Diogenes, he was brought in his blindness to the monastery which he himself had founded, on the island of Prote, and there he died, not long afterwards. His reign had lasted less than four years.**283 Michael was now undisputed ruler of the Empire.
