Download PDF | Deeds of John and Manuel Comnenus [Byzantine History, 1118-1180], Columbia University Press 1976.
282 Pages
Preface
This work was commenced as a necessary preliminary to a translation of the history of Nicetas Choniates; it is impossible to read Nicetas’ account of the same period without comparing it with Kinnamos’ version. As I advanced, I became steadily more impressed with the value of Kinnamos as a historian. I have striven to convey something of his lively and vivid narrative style. Because the existing edition of Kinnamos is unsatisfactory, I have utilized corrections suggested by Moravesik, Babos, Chalandon, and Wirth. The conventional book and chapter numbers have been preserved, but further paragraphing is my own responsibility. Since the text is usually cited according to pages of the Bonn edition, these have been inserted between virgules. My annotation has been intended to clarify places and dates, and to point out the principal modern studies. An attempt to include every monograph or solve every problem posed by Kinnamos would have been futile.
Proper names have occasioned difficulty and forced some arbitrary decisions. Kinnamos’ archaisms (‘‘Persians,’’ ‘‘Scyths,’’ etc.) have been rendered as ‘‘Turks,’’ ‘‘Petchenegs,’’ and the like. Place names have been retained in their Byzantine form, because Adrianople, Laodikeia, and the Lykos are better known than Edirne, Denizli, and the Çürüksu Cay. At their first appearance, and again in the index, the modern equivalent has been added in brackets. For Byzantine personal names, I have used conventional Latin or English first names (‘‘John’’ or ‘‘Andronicus’’) and a transliteration of surnames, except ‘“Comnenus”’ and ‘‘Angelus.’’ For the spelling of non-Greek names, I have taken K. M. Setton’s A History of the Crusades as my principal guide and supplemented it with suggestions from Moravesik, Grumel, and others. Foreign princesses who married into the Byzantine imperial family customarily received new names; their original ones have been noted in brackets, e.g., ‘‘[Piroska-]Irene.”’
This work commenced as a result of a Fulbright Research Fellowship, granted by the United States Educational Foundation in Greece; it was continued during a sabbatical leave from Bryn Mawr College and the tenure of a Fellowship from the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation. I am deeply grateful to these institutions for their assistance. I am happy to express my thanks to the librarians of Bryn Mawr College, in particular James Tanis, Thomas Song, and Pamilla Reilly, and those of the Gennadius Library, Francis Walton, Sophie Papageorgiou, and Artemis Nikolaides, for their patience and kindness. I am also much in debt to the American School of Classical Studies in Athens for the use of their library, especially their excellent collection of large-scale maps of Asia Minor. Richmond Lattimore, Mabel Lang, and Francis Walton assisted me with difficult passages of Greek, and I am thankful to them. I am particularly indebted to Angeliki Laiou for her detailed criticism, which has saved me from many pitfalls. Finally, I am happy to express my thanks to my wife for her manifold assistance and encouragement.
This book is dedicated to one of the finest of this generation of Byzantine scholars. None who knew his kindness and learning will soon forget him.
Bryn Mawr College Charles M. Brand June 1976
Introduction
The evolution of the Byzantine Empire, which as its inhabitants knew was really the Roman Empire Christianized, is delineated by a series of outstanding historians. The age of the Comneni and Angeli, 1081—1204, received the attention of three contemporaries whose works surveyed extended periods of time. Long after the death of Alexius I Comnenus (1081-1118), his daughter Anna wrote a biographical epic, fittingly titled The Alexiad, with a strong panegyric tone. While it focuses on her father’s military activities, its broad canvas touches on myriad aspects of Byzantine life and thought. John Kinnamos took up the task where Anna left off. He proposed to write the history of the reigns of John II (1118-43) and Manuel I (1143-80), but the surviving text breaks off during the year 1176. Kinnamos’ work also eulogizes the emperors. Finally, Nicetas Choniates likewise began his narrative with the accession of John II, and, adding to his text from time to time, carried his history through the western conquest of Constantinople in 1204 and into the succeeding events, breaking off in 1206. His work is almost uniformly derogatory of the emperors under whom he lived; he sought to allocate the blame for Byzantium’s downfall in 1204. As a historian, he is a major figure; embittered and scarred by the tragedy of his times, he wrote with an acid pen, not unworthy of Thucydides. His lengthy work, which - deserves to be better known, is available in a German translation.
Why, then, undertake a translation of Kinnamos, who is the least important of the three? Without him, both our knowledge of Byzantine history and of the Byzantine mentality would be the poorer. For the years 1118 to 1176, he and Nicetas Choniates cover the same ground, yet in fundamentally different ways; this is especially true for the reign of Manuel. Where Kinnamos describes at length, Nicetas is brief, but Nicetas frequently reveals matters concealed by Kinnamos. Thus, neither can be read without the other.
Further, both Anna Comnena and Nicetas are exceptional individuals, educated far beyond the level of most of their contemporaries. Kinnamos is very much an ordinary Byzantine bureaucrat. He was reasonably well-read in the classics, and unquestioningly accepted the outward forms and doctrines of Christianity. But his real religion was the empire and the emperor: the empire as God’s vehicle for unifying mankind, the emperor as the chosen leader for His people. These conceptions, which he shared with the population at large, make his work a leading exposition of the simple, straight-forward understanding of the nature and purpose of history entertained by literate Byzantines.
John Kinnamos, as he repeatedly states, was born after the death of emperor John II, in April 1143, but probably not long after. While nothing is known of his family, a Basil Kinnamos was bishop of Paphos on Cyprus about 1165 and thereafter.’ Seemingly from his early years, there remains an Ethopoiia or rhetorical exercise which attests the influence of Nicephorus Basilakes. The latter, a prominent rhetorician, was probably his teacher.* The title of his history specifies that Kinnamos was an imperial secretary; > thus he was one of a large body of clerks attached to the imperial court and the emperor’s person. They might at times be utilized for diplomatic missions or sent to accompany armies.® Secretaries who, like Nicetas Choniates, distinguished themselves might rise to posts in the provincial and central administration, but Kinnamos apparently did not do so. He states that he entered Manuel’s service at a very early age: . before I was even a youth I accompanied many of his expeditions into both continents.” 7 To judge from his military interests and what little we know of his career, much of his life during Manuel’s reign was passed with the soldiery.® It seems possible that he participated in the Italian campaign of 1155-56: his descriptions are vivid and usually geographically precise, although he could have been no more than twelve at the time.® Similarly, when he narrates the conduct of the Byzantine embassy in Rome in 1157, he displays a sudden, unprecedented knowledge of Roman city politics, the papal practice of Interdict (unknown to the Eastern Church), and the policy of the Byzantine envoys. If he was not present, he had extremely good information available. Ultimately, he became sufficiently intimate with the emperor, he says, to discuss questions of Aristotelian philosophy with him.!°
The first occasion on which he specifically states that he was an eyewitness was in 1165 at Manuel’s siege of Zeugminon (modern Zemun) in Yugoslavia.!! Two quotations, taken together, suggest that Kinnamos was present in 1176 at the disastrous battle of Myriokephalon. The first relates to Kinnamos’ incredulity in regard to Manuel’s personal daring in battle, “‘. . . until the facts of the matter came to my attention, as I was thus by chance encompassed amidst the foe and observed from close at hand that emperor resisting entire Turkish regiments. But the history will describe this at the right moment... .”’ 1? Later, he says, ‘‘For when, after many years had passed, Kilidj Arslan became careless of his engagements toward the emperor, he caused the Romans to attack the Turks in full force. By some chance the army fell into difficult terrain, lost many of the aristocracy, and came near a great disaster, save that in warfare the emperor was there seen to surpass the bounds of human excellence. But, as I have already said, these things will be related later by me.’’ 13 The second text clearly alludes to Myriokephalon, and the reference backwards in it can only indicate the former quotation, which occurs a few pages earlier. Apparently Kinnamos was one of the handful who escaped from that disaster; regrettably his history, as it survives, breaks off at the start of the campaign prior to that battle.
The next stage of Kinnamos’ life was closely linked with the composition of his history. He wrote after the death of Manuel, who, he says, ‘‘. . . perished, leaving the empire to an adolescent son.’’ Later, he refers to the birth of this heir, Alexius II, in elaborately complimentary terms, and promises a full description of him at the appropriate moment.!* He gives an extraordinarily favorable account of Louis VII’s relations to Manuel during the Second Crusade, an account which ignores numerous disagreements and conflicts between the two rulers.'° This treatment becomes comprehensible when one considers that Louis VII was Alexius II’s father-in-law. The Angelus family is not singled out for eulogy; indeed, Constantine Angelus, grandfather of the later emperors, is depicted as incompetent for his loss of a fleet to the Normans.'® Andronicus Comnenus receives somewhat ambiguous treatment: his violent hatred and treachery toward Manuel are described in detail, but his clever escape from prison won Kinnamos’ admiration. He is neither lauded, as if he were presently emperor, nor reviled as a fallen tyrant; rather, he is apparently a dangerous rival to the dynasty.'” All these details point to the period from September 1180 to April 1182, the regency of Marie-Xena and Alexius Comnenus the protosebastos for the young Alexius II, as the time of composition of Kinnamos’ history. Alexius II is mentioned as if still alive, and his mother receives favorable consideration; Andronicus is a potential enemy, not regent or emperor. The Angeli have not yet ascended the throne. ‘8
Why Kinnamos chose this time to write can be guessed from a few details in his history. He was personally very hostile to Latins, and rarely loses an occasion to attack them; Raymond of Poitiers and Louis VII, grandfather and father-in-law, respectively, of Alexius II, are among the exceptions. The Normans of Sicily, the Germans of Conrad III and Frederick Barbarossa, the Vene- tians, the papacy, all come in for their share of abuse—save on those rare occasions when they chance to be acting in accord with the emperor’s will, as Kinnamos would put it. The regency, however, was extremely favorable to Latins. Such antithetical views would suggest that Kinnamos had been compelled to withdraw from public service. This supposition would explain the reference in his preface to his leisure to write history, ‘‘. . . the present favorable opportunity. . . .”’ 1° as he calls it. It also helps to explain the fact that he had no access to official archives (or at least, made no use of them) while he wrote.?° In composing his history, with its eulogy of the dynasty, Kinnamos was attempting to regain imperial favor and a place in the government.
Our final glimpse of Kinnamos seems to confirm this view regarding the date of composition of his book. Nicetas Choniates shows him in the spring of 1184, debating theology with Euthymius Malakes, Metropolitan of Neai Patrai, in the emperor’s tent at Lopadion. Andronicus Comnenus, now emperor, threatened to pitch both disputants in the river if they did not desist! 21 Kinnamos had thus regained a position in the bureaucracy, enjoyed the emperor’s confidence, attended him on his campaign against rebels in Bithynia, and frequented the imperial tent. His prejudice against Latins and his seeming dismissal by the regency would have served to recommend him to the usurper.
Of his ultimate fate, little more is known. He survived the downfall of Andronicus (September 1185), and addressed an oration, now lost, to one of the Angeli emperors.?” The new government, however, may have forced him again into retirement or a monastery.
Kinnamos’ sources are far from clear. He quotes neither imperial documents, although he had knowledge of the contents of some of them, nor the records of ecclesiastical synods.?* In regard to the reign of John II, Nicetas, who deals with the same period, states that he is utilizing oral communications from those who had been alive then and had shared in the emperor’s wars. Kinnamos notes the difficulty of writing about the period, so he chooses to survey it only ‘‘. . . in brief and as if in summary, because as I said I did not exist in his times.” 24 Elsewhere, regarding John’s conquest of Cilicia, he says, ‘‘But to record these matters in detail exceeds, I think, our undertaking. It was my purpose to speak of the present events in summary, because I was not an eyewitness, nor did I receive a faithful account of them.’’ ?° His principal materials were certainly oral communications from individuals, and, from perhaps 1155 on, his own observations. Occasionally it is possible to detect his source: John Comnenus the protovestiarios and protosebastos has long been recognized as his informant regarding Andronicus’ plots against the emperor at Pelagonia (ca. 1154).?® John Kantakouzenos may have given him his account of the conflict with the Serbs and Hungarians on the Drina and Tara, John Doukas, of the campaign in Italy (if Kinnamos did not himself participate), Michael Branas, of a campaign to recover Sirmion.??
Anna Comnena states that she had available to her narratives composed with great simplicity and artlessness by certain former soldiers of her father who had subsequently retired to monasteries.?® It is tempting to look for similar narratives incorporated into Kinnamos’ work. A leading possibility would be the account of Manuel’s attack in 1146 on Ikonion, and the subsequent disastrous retreat.”® This is the first extended narrative contained in Kinnamos’ book. The geographical details are unusually accurate, permitting a detailed reconstruction of much of the route. No single individual, apart from the emperor, seems to stand out as a “hero” (and possible informant). On the other hand, the misconduct of the Byzantine army during the retreat is unsparingly (and, for Kinnamos, well nigh uniquely) laid bare. These qualities suggest a narrative by a professional army officer, who ranked below the aristocracy. The account of the Second Crusade might have come from the same or a similar source.°° For the bulk of his history, however, Kinnamos gathered his information from his own observations and reports of eyewitnesses.
Like other educated Byzantine laymen, Kinnamos had been nourished on the classical Greek authors. In his preface, he alludes to Xenophon’s Education of Cyrus and Anabasis, and, possibly, to Herodotus; further on, there is an allusion to an exploit described by this author.?! At one point, he seems to echo Thucydides: ‘That year ended, having wrought such changes.’’ 3? Procopius, however, seems to have furnished his literary model, and from him he drew an account of Romulus Augustulus, Odovakar, and Theodoric.*? Other authors, such as Plutarch or Arrian, and Libanius, can be dimly perceived behind his pages.*4 Kinnamos, however, cannot compare with Anna Comnena for extensive reading in the ancient writers, nor with Nicetas in having absorbed them and made their literary style his own.
In common with other Byzantine writers of history, he strove to disguise his material in an antique garb. Thus, so far as possible, medieval peoples are given ancient names. Nearly all eastern, Islamic nations are arbitrarily labeled ‘‘Persians’’; tribes from north of the Black Sea are ‘‘Scyths’’; the Hungarians alternate between being ‘‘Paionians’’ (from Herodotus) and ‘‘Huns’’ (from Priscus and Procopius). Confusingly, the French are called ‘‘Germans,’’ and the Germans, ‘‘Alamanoi.’’ 33 The Byzantines themselves are always designated ‘‘Romans,’’ save on the rare occasions when the populace of the capital is meant. This usage, however, genuinely reflects the strong sense of Roman identity entertained by the Byzantine people, expressed even in oral Greek as “*Rhomaioi.”’
From Thucydides, ultimately, derives the conception of the pseudo-speech and pretended letter. Not one of the letters quoted by Kinnamos can be considered anything but a confection of his own. When genuine documents survive (notably the correspondence between Byzantine and German rulers), their content differs widely from Kinnamos’ allegations.” Thucydides’ conception of using an imaginary speech to set forth the position of one party to a dispute has, in Kinnamos, been debased into ‘‘a few appropriate words,’ school-boy exercises, and rhetorical com- monplaces. The most elaborate is the speech put into the mouth of the dying John II, and it is also the most false—although Kinnamos was here almost certainly the victim of a conspiracy to conceal the truth about John’s death.?? Otherwise, such speeches and pretended letters are often utilized to conceal a Byzantine withdrawal or defeat.**
Apart from the speeches and letters, Kinnamos’ style is unusually clear and direct, at least for a Byzantine author. His syntax is rarely involved, and his sentences are usually short; his vocabulary is not extraordinary in its range. These characteristics, which render him palatable to the modern reader, would all have been viewed as defects, signs of an imperfect education, by his fellow Byzantine authors. Elaboration, use of complicated diction, an incessant quest for the rarest possible classical words, characterize Kinnamos’ more cultured contemporaries, Michael Choniates, Nicetas Choniates, and Eustathius of Thessalonica. As a result, his narrative, once he reaches the reign of Manuel, flows swiftly and usually smoothly. He is capable of vivid and lively scenes: the Byzantine retreat from Ikonion, the battle with Richard of Andria, the old witch at the siege of Zemun.®® Andronicus Comnenus is skillfully depicted as a man of great abilities, ruined by insatiable ambition, hereditary enmity to Manuel, and incurable personal vices.*°
For the modern reader, his style is partially spoilt by his excessive praise for Manuel Comnenus. Every quality of Manuel, his dashing valor in warfare, his shrewd perception of an enemy’s strategic dispositions, his horsemanship, his medical skill, and his penetrating intellect all inspire Kinnamos to excesses of enthusiastic admiration. Even less attractive are his protestations that he is merely reporting things he himself has seen or which have been creditably represented to him. While there is undoubtedly some truth behind his accounts of Manuel’s achievements—the emperor imitated western knights in their craving for single combat and feats of headlong daring—facts unfavorable to Manuel are sup-pressed. In particular, the outcome of court intrigues and alleged conspiracies is never reported in a way hostile to Manuel. According to Nicetas, for example, the allegations of intended usurpation brought against Alexius Axouchos were entirely false.4! Nicetas Choniates’ History is a valuable corrective to Kinnamos.
In his adulation, however, Kinnamos was in no way exceptional. Indeed, he was simply working within an accepted tradition of historical and courtly literature. To mention only a few examples from among his immediate predecessors, Michael Psellos’ famous Chronographia concludes with a lengthy eulogy of Michael VII Doukas; Michael Attaleiates addressed his history to Nicephorus III Botaneiates, and even included an irrelevant narrative of the conquest of Crete by Botaneiates’ alleged ancestor, Nicephorus II Phokas; Nicephorus Bryennios and Anna Comnena wrote in honor of Alexius I.4? Learned orations, complimentary to the reigning sovereign, were part of the ceremonial of the Byzan- — tine court, and all well-educated persons were capable of writing them. Neither sincerity nor truth were necessary for such an oration; Nicetas? contemporary addresses contrast strongly with his History, composed later.4? For Kinnamos, given his hope of regaining favor and office, the eulogistic passages were not merely important, but central to the purpose of his book. His repeated declarations of objectivity are merely verbal ornaments and shallow conventionalities. 44
Kinnamos’ narrative is far from perfect. Usually, he follows a reasonably straightforward chronological sequence; this results in some rapid changes of geographic scene, and seemingly irrelevant insertions of segments of ecclesiastical history. Occasionally, the necessity to supply background, and a tendency to proceed by association of ideas, lead him into kaleidoscopic shifts. At one point, within four or five sentences, apropos the conclusion of a treaty with Hungary (1153), Kinnamos refers to a later (1154-55) war stirred up by Andronicus’ intrigues, to Andronicus’ dispatch ‘‘at that time’’ (1152) to Cilicia to settle the revolt of Toros, and to the latter’s escape from Constantinople (ca. 1145) and subsequent activities in Cilicia. Andronicus, however, was accompanied by the caesar John Roger, a candidate for the hand of Constance of Antioch, the cause of whose widowhood (in 1149) is then described at length. Several pages later, the narrative returns to Andronicus in Cilicia (1152). It is the figure of Andronicus and the necessity of sketching his career which is here the connecting link, but Kinnamos has no fear of an excursus.
Some of these irregularities might have been smoothed out if Kinnamos had revised his work, as he presumably intended. The single surviving medieval manuscript breaks off at the bottom of a verso folio in the middle of a sentence; the recto of the next folio commences another work. Whether the historian completed his book, whether leaves are missing from the manuscript, or whether the scribe simply tired of his task is unknown.*® The primary evidence for lack of revision by Kinnamos is the existence of a number of references backwards (‘‘as has often been said,’’ or similar expressions) for which no corresponding passage exists. The most important examples are mentions of the marriage in 1148 of the emperor’s niece Theodora to Henry of Austria, an event omitted in its proper place by Kinnamos.*7 Combining these defects with the beginning of the text-title, ‘‘Epitome of the Successes . . . ,”’ which is in turn reflected in the Latin title given by the editor, ‘‘Epitome of the Deeds . . . ,’’ the first students of Kinnamos asserted that the existing text is an abridgment by a later hand. This view is no longer maintained: an epitomator would have removed much of the excess rhetorical baggage, while the cases of defective references backward are explained by the author’s failure to revise his text. Another proof that Kinnamos left his book imperfect is the frequently sketchy nature of the portion relating to Manuel’s last decades. These pages give the impression of being notes awaiting the author’s final attentions.*®
That the book was unpublished is indirectly attested by Nicetas Choniates, who in his preface states that no historian has yet offered an account of the period since Alexius I’s death, on which he is about to embark.*9 Yet Nicetas almost certainly utilized Kinnamos’ work himself.°° The explanation must be that the book, being unfinished, was not published and did not circulate outside the group of imperial secretaries to which both belonged.
In the thirteenth century the original text was copied, and so survived: many much greater historians of the epoch came close to being lost. Only a single manuscript of Psellos’ Chronographia and two manuscripts (both twelfth-century) of the complete text of the Alexiad endured into modern times.*! Compared to classical Greek authors, Byzantine historians had slight value in the eyes of later bookbuyers and scribes. The thirteenth-century copy of Kinnamos’ history was still in Constantinople in 1453; somehow, it reached the Vatican Library, where it now reposes. A transcription of it was made in the sixteenth century, and three more in the seventeenth. From one of the latter, Isaac Vossius made a copy, which Cornelius Tollius used as the foundation for the first printed edition, Utrecht, 1652, with an accompanying Latin version. The great Byzantine scholar Charles du Fresne, sieur Du Cange, published another edition, Paris, 1670, with a new Latin translation and notes which are still valuable. For his edition, Bonn, 1836, A. Meineke utilized a collation of the older printed ones with the Vatican manuscript made by Theodor Heyse. A new edition remains one of the fundamental necessities of Byzantine scholarship.
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