the oxford university byzantine societythe oxford university byzantine society ioannou centre for...

The Oxford University Byzantine Society

Ioannou Centre for Classical and Byzantine Studies66 St. Giles’

OxfordUnited Kingdom

OX1 3LU

Committee 2018-19

President - Katerina Vavaliou (Wadham College, Oxford)Secretary - Callan Meynell (Trinity College, Oxford)Treasurer - Daniel Gallaher (Oriel College, Oxford)

[email protected]://oxfordbyzantinesociety.wordpress.com/

Contents

A Message from the OUBS President

Katerina Vavaliou

Narrative in Antiquity

Chloé Agar (St. Cross College)

Procopius and Slighting Fortifications in the Gothic War: Fano and Pesaro

Jonathan Thomas Wild (Brasenose College)

An Interview with Dr. Marek Jankowiak

Peter Guevara (Wolfson College)

A Nephew and a Crusade - Anna Komnene’s “target” in the Alexiad

Louis Nicholson-Pallett (The Queen’s College)

A Speech by Demetrius Cydones

John-Francis Martin (Corpus Christi College)

Information about SPBS

1-2

3-8

9-14

15-19

20-26

27-32

33

The texts and images printed herein are © by the Authors and may not be reproduced without permission.

Cover image: Christ mosaic from the Church of the Paregoretissa in Arta. © Liz James, Mosaics in the Medieval World: From Late Antiquity to the Fifteenth Century, 1st ed. (Cambridge University Press, 2017), https://doi.org/10.1017/9780511997693, fig.159.

A Message from the OUBS President Katerina Vavaliou

The Oxford University Byzantine

Society (OUBS) is now a well-established

institution at the heart of the Late Antique

and Byzantine Studies (LABS)

communities at Oxford, welcoming new

students into the discipline and keeping

everyone up to date with events from week

to week.

In recent years, the community has

blossomed and reflects an increasingly

broad array of academic interests and

backgrounds. I owe a great debt to tireless

work of previous committees and

presidents. In the space a few short years,

they have moulded the society into the

dynamic entity that exists today. I can only

hope that the OUBS will continue to

expand in size and ambition, and that

when my time as president ends, I will

leave it in the same healthy state as when I

found it.

A testament to this ambition is the OUBS’

International Graduate Conference. Now in

its 21st year, the event has continued to

grow in scale and this year we have the

pleasure of welcoming 48 speakers from

over 20 different countries. The conference

will be held on 22nd-23rd February in the

History Faculty on ‘Contested Heritage:

Adaptation, Restoration and Innovation in

the Late Antique and Byzantine World’.

Drawing upon my own background in

restoration and architecture, I have sought

to select a theme which can complement

the study of material culture, art, and

archaeology. Yet such a topic lends itself

to other forms of historical investigation:

appropriation and reuse occur across

media and are essential elements in the

construction of Byzantine texts and

historical narratives.

In bringing together researchers from

different backgrounds, the conference

aims to facilitate interdisciplinary

exchange in a relaxed and supportive

environment. The occasion also presents

us with a wonderful opportunity to

showcase the quality of postgraduate

research and to meet our counterparts

from across the globe.

The Byzantinist | 1

The international outlook of the OUBS is

reflected in other aspects of its work. The

society organises an annual overseas

research trip and scholars of all levels

participate in it. Its itinerary is tailored to

the participants’ academic interests and

provides a unique opportunity to visit

monuments and sites where even the

most long-suffering friends and relations

fear to tread.

In the recent past, OUBS trips have taken

us to Armenia, Bulgaria and Iran. This

year’s trip will take us to central Greece

and the Peloponnese, where we will visit

sites like Hosios Loukas, Mystras and

Monemvasia and have the opportunity to

access areas normally closed to the

general public.

Oxford is an idiosyncratic and somewhat

peculiar place, and we have endeavoured

to make the process of orientation more

straightforward for incoming students.

Building on the successful roll-out of a

mentoring system for new graduates over

the past few years, the OUBS has also

published a ‘Welcome Pack’ to explain the

structure of academic life at the university.

The society’s two mailing lists, and recent

forays into social media, have hopefully

kept members of the LABS community

informed of academic opportunities and

enabled them to make the most of their

time at Oxford.

To this end, the OUBS has continued to run

events which seek to build dialogue

between postgraduates, faculty members

and emeriti. In keeping with the theme of

‘innovation’ from this year’s conference,

our foremost legacy is likely to be the

inauguration of a society jaunt to the pub

after the Wednesday evening LABS

seminars.

For the rest of 2019, forthcoming

collaborations with Graduate Archaeology

Oxford and the Oxford Medieval Society

promise to foster links with our sister

disciplines in the university. Further afield,

we will also be organising a colloquium

with our counterparts in Paris, the

Association des étudiants du monde

byzantin.

Overall, I hope that the OUBS will continue

to develop into a close-knit community,

uniting young researchers through shared

interests and lasting friendships in Oxford

and across the world.

The Byzantinist | 2

Narrative in Antiquity Chloé Agar (St. Cross College)

The analysis of

hagiography has taken a

more literary turn in

recent years (Gray 2017:

103). The approaches

now being applied to the

structure and

characterisation within such texts has

broadened interpretation beyond the

acknowledgement of the didactic

purposes of these texts (Papavarnavas

2016: 66). Analysis is now showing the

specific ways in which the didactic

purpose of hagiography could be

achieved. This article will argue the utility

of viewing hagiography – and, by

extension, other ancient texts – from a

literary perspective in order to

understand the particular features which

their writers chose to use and the

possible reasons for those choices.

Narratology and its place in scholarship

The theory applied to the analysis

of narrative features in texts is called

‘narratology’. It is not exclusively applied

to ancient texts, but the shared features

between ancient and modern material

means that its use is a valid approach to

take (Bal 2017: 3-4). Narratology

identifies the aspects out of which

narratives are constructed, forming a

semi-quantitative approach to literary

analysis which can be useful when

studying patterns in large data sets, be

they whole texts or episodes within

them.

Narratology has been applied to

hagiography for a few years, with proven

success in its application within Greek

and Latin scholarship. The latest

example within Greek scholarship is the

study of the representation of prisons in

Greek martyr cycles by Christodoulos

Papavarnavas (University of Vienna) in

his PhD thesis (2018: 278). He used

narratological analysis on over two

The Byzantinist | 3

hundred texts in order to identify the

conventions in the representation of

prisons in Greek martyr cycles and these

episodes’ role in the narrative.

However, despite its proven utility

and success when applied to ancient

texts, narratological approaches have

limited application to Coptic texts. What

limited application to Coptic hagiography

that exists, being to the lesser-studied

dialect of Bohairic and a lesser-known

set of case studies, has proven that a

narratological approach is equally useful

to Coptic as it is to Greek and Latin

material (Zakrzewska 2011: 499, 501).

This application shows that there is a

growing narratological discourse within

Coptic scholarship, and that further

application will continue to develop both

the methods used and the new insights

that they bring (Behlmer 2012: 306).

Narratology as a method

A wide range of narrative features

can be analysed using a narratological

approach, and each one can indicate

something different about the author’s

intention or the effect on the audience

and refine our understanding of precisely

how the didactic function of these texts

could be achieved. Taking Christodoulos

Papavarnavas’ use of particular episodes

within hagiography, narrative features

that can provide insights include, but are

not limited to, the following list:

● Placement within the narrative –

The placement of an episode

relative to the other episodes

which constitute the narrative as a

whole can indicate whether it is

intended as a break or a climax,

either inviting the audience to rest

and contemplate or inspiring a

stronger emotional response. The

content of the episode can also

indicate how its placement should

be interpreted, as they often serve

as respite from the main narrative

while continuing the plot or

providing character development.

● Narrative space – The physical

space on a manuscript occupied

by an episode can indicate its

relative importance and, if it is

intended as a break, how long that

interruption of the main narrative

is and therefore how lasting an

The Byzantinist | 4

effect it may have on the audience

once the next episode

commences.

● Audience – Christodoulos

Papavarnavas identifies two

audiences (2016: 67). The first is

intra-textual, being the audience

as a secondary character in the

narrative. The second is

extra-textual, being the audience

that is being exposed to the

narrative. He argues that the

emotional responses of the

intra-textual audience could be

crafted by the writer to influence

that of the extra-textual audience,

and that such secondary

characters are as much a role

model for the didactic purpose of

the narrative as the primary one(s)

i.e. the saint or martyr

(Papavarnavas 2016: 80).

● Context within the narrative – The

preceding events and overall plot

of the main narrative can serve to

explain the significance and

reason for an episode’s

placement. There are two main

reasons for the placement of a

particular episode that may have

been considered by the writer. The

first is the effect that the episode

will have on the extra-textual

audience when contextualised by

preceding events, such as a break

or a climax. The second is the

significance of that placement to

the narrative itself, such as

introducing the saint’s martyr

status or their actual martyrdom.

● Setting – The setting of an

episode can indicate how a writer

wanted it to be perceived within

the context of the narrative and its

didactic function. An episode

taking place in the same setting

as the preceding one or in a

setting that would be familiar to

an audience at least as an idea,

such as a shrine or prison, lends a

sense of realism, as does an

appropriate time of day for the

events taking place. This would

enhance the relevance to the

audience more than a

phenomenon that it is unlikely that

any of them witnessed, such as a

healing miracle or a vision, and

The Byzantinist | 5

thereby make the didactic

message that the writer wished to

convey more pertinent,

particularly in the case of the

audience being illiterate laymen

having the narrative conveyed to

them orally.

● Sensory description – Sensory

description is related to the

setting in that it is the description

that establishes the locale and

time of events. Sensory

description can include any of the

five senses and may be one of

two things. It may be of sensory

phenomena with which an

audience were culturally or

physically familiar, or it may be of

unfamiliar phenomena that would

inspire a sense of wonder. A

sense of wonder would be

appropriate in a text such as an

encomium, which had the main

function of celebrating its

associated saint.

● Characters – The characters in a

narrative are the actors in the plot,

and thereby the figures to whom

the audience can relate and from

whom they can learn. This relates

to the idea of the intra-textual

audience as the most relatable

characters to the extra-textual

audience, and places the saint or

martyr as the example to which to

aspire and the characters who

torment them as the example to

revile (e.g. Elliott 1987: 1).

Further comment on character

There has been an emphasis on

characterisation in recent scholarship on

hagiography (e.g. De Temmerman 2010:

27). It is certainly an aspect of narrative

that is emphasised within narratological

theory, as methods of characterisation

and characters’ speech are considered in

overlap with other narrative features (Bal

2017: 44).

However, the study of character

within the application of narratology to

hagiography has been limited to the saint

or martyr, and in some cases has drawn

understandable but anachronistic

analogies that can help modern

audiences to understand how they would

have been perceived, but not how this

was achieved, such as the relation of

The Byzantinist | 6

saints performing miracles to

superheroes (e.g. Elliott 1987: 1-2). This

paper therefore proposes that the

narratives features that contribute to this

characterisation should be studied

further. It also proposes that a way of

understanding the idealised characters in

relation to secondary ones, which are

more likely to have been relatable to a

contemporary audience, would be to

compare their representation within

particular episodes using the narrative

features. This would highlight patterns

and provide new insights into whether

there is variation according to holiness,

social status, or gender. Such insights

would develop the current understanding

of hagiography within its intended

context, as opposed to from the

perspective of those studying it today.

This paper has indicated the utility

of viewing hagiography from a literary

perspective by highlighting the narrative

features outlined by narratology and the

purposes for which writers may have

used them. This emphasises the use of

these texts as historical sources, but

with the analysis of the literary methods

used within them rather than more

directly through their content. It has also

highlighted the importance of

characterisation within narrative as a key

way by which the extra-textual audience

can experience a text’s didactic function.

Selected Bibliography Bal, M. 2017, Narratology: Introduction to the theory of narrative. Fourth edition. Toronto:

University of Toronto Press. Behlmer, H. 2012, ‘Report on Coptic Literature (2008-2012)’ in P. Buzi, A. Camplani, and F.

Contardi (eds.), Coptic society, literature and religion from Late Antiquity to modern times: Proceedings of the tenth International Congress of Coptic Studies, Rome, September 17th–22nd, 2012 and plenary reports of the Ninth International Congress of Coptic Studies, Cairo, September 15th–19th, 2008 (Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 247; 2 vols). Leuven; Paris; Bristol CT: Peeters.

De Temmerman, K. 2010, ‘Ancient Rhetoric as a Hermeneutical Tool for the Analysis of Characterization in Narrative Literature’. Rhetorica 28(1), 23–51.

Elliott, A. G. 1987, Roads to Paradise: Reading the Lives of the Early Saints. Hanover: University Press of New England.

Gray, C. 2017, ‘“Holy and pleasing to God”: A narratological approach to hagiography in Jerome’s Lives of Paul and Malchus’. Ancient Narrative 14, 103-28.

The Byzantinist | 7

Papavarnavas, C. 2016, ‘The role of the audience in pre-Metaphrastic passions’ in Analecta Bollandiana 134(1), 66-82.

______________2018, Gefängnis als Schwellenraum in der byzantinischen Hagiographie: Eine literarische Untersuchung der Märtyrerakten in früh- und mittelbyzantinischer Zeit.

PhD. Universität Wien. Zakrzewska, E. D. 2011, ‘Masterplots and martyrs: Narrative techniques in Bohairic

hagiography’ in F. Hagen, J. Johnston, W. Monkhouse, K. Piquette, J. Tait, and M. Worthington (eds), Narratives of Egypt and the ancient Near East: Literary and linguistic approaches. Leuven: Peeters.

The Byzantinist | 8

Procopius and Slighting Fortifications in the Gothic War: Fano and Pesaro Jonathan Thomas Wild (Brasenose College)

A prominent feature of

Ostrogothic strategy in the Gothic War

which has received no detailed analysis

is the strategy of slighting the walls of

various cities and towns by the

Ostrogothic leadership. Perhaps the

reason for this is the unreliability of

Procopius when looking at Gothic aims,

which is well established. Averil Cameron

has noted that to look to Procopius for

an analysis of Gothic aims is a ‘mistake’.

Philip Rance adopted a similar view,

though not so pessimistic, simply

advising that the modern reader treat the

motives which Procopius assigned to the

Goths with circumspection and

acknowledge that he was assigning

intention from consequence.

According to Procopius, Totila

slighted city walls to avoid the

complications of siege warfare and force

a pitched battle. This has often been

accepted at face value. When it has not

been accepted, a blanket motivation has

still been applied to all of the cities

whose fortifications were slighted by the

Gothic leadership. However, this is

unsatisfactory. I will take Fano and

Pesaro as case studies to demonstrate

the fact that Gothic motivations were

more complex than Procopius would

have us believe. Fano and Pesaro were

fortified cities on the Adriatic coast,

between Rimini and Ancona. According

to Procopius, the walls of both cities

were dismantled to half of their original

height by the Ostrogothic king Wittigis

(AD 536-540).

Procopius claimed that Wittigis’

motivation for slighting the walls of Fano

and Pesaro and burning many of the

buildings within them was to prevent

their use as bases from which the enemy

could cause trouble for the Goths.

However, removing the cities to prevent

their use as strategic bases cannot have

The Byzantinist | 9

been Wittigis’ sole motivation. Wittigis

decided to retain possession of other

cities close to Fano and Pesaro,

including Osimo, Ancona, and Rimini.

Therefore, an examination of the

strategic situation faced by Wittigis is

essential to determine why Fano and

Pesaro’s walls were partially razed and

those of other nearby cities were not.

However, before analysing the

strategic context, it is crucial to establish

when Wittigis partially dismantled the

walls of Fano and Pesaro. Procopius only

informs us that the cities’ walls had been

slighted when the walls of Pesaro were

repaired by Belisarius in 545. Perhaps

the reason for this was that Procopius

did not feel it necessary to mention the

razing of Fano and Pesaro when it

happened because it had no bearing

upon his narrative. Alternatively,

Procopius may not have been aware of

this fact until long after the event.

However, this seems unlikely given that

Procopius was present in Italy with

Belisarius until at least 540.

Procopius claimed that it

happened at the beginning of the war. It

is possible that it may have occurred

after Wittigis’ abandonment of the siege

of Rome in 538, when he marched north

to besiege Rimini after it was captured

by John. However, this seems unlikely.

The fact that Procopius makes no

mention of the two cities during the

Byzantine conquest of the region

suggests that the dismantling had

already taken place. Furthermore, it

would have been difficult of Wittigis to

dismantle the walls of Fano and Pesaro

while the Byzantines were in control of

the nearby cities of Rimini and Ancona.

The forces he sent to dismantle their

walls would have been threatened by

dangerous sallies. It is far more likely

that their walls were slighted in c. 536,

before Wittigis’ march to Rome. At this

time, Wittigis would have had the

freedom and to dismantle the walls of

the two cities.

Manpower was clearly a strategic

concern for Wittigis. To muster a large

enough army, he was forced to recall the

Goths under Marcias stationed in Gaul

and cede the territory to the Franks.

Therefore, Wittigis had to be selective

with which places he decided to allocate

manpower to defend. He preferred not to

The Byzantinist | 10

garrison all the sizable cities by the

Adriatic coast. Accordingly, he decided

to prevent the loss of Fano and Pesaro

and keep the nearby cities of Osimo,

Ancona, and Rimini. Wittigis’ choice was

simple. Rimini’s proximity to Ravenna

made it essential as a line of defence.

For the Byzantines to march on Ravenna,

they first had to capture Rimini. Rimini,

being closer to Ravenna than Fano or

Pesaro, was better placed to serve as a

base from which the garrison could

harass an army besieging Ravenna.

Therefore, Wittigis saw fit to garrison the

city.

With Osimo, its topography made

it extremely defensible. As Procopius

described, the city was situated upon a

hill which made it virtually inaccessible to

would be besiegers. Due to the strength

of its position, even a small garrison was

able to deter John from besieging it.

Similarly, when Belisarius approached

Osimo, he observed that the city could

not be accessed from level ground.

Whilst Fano and Pesaro were defensible

cities with impressive fortifications, their

positions on low lying ground made

them less defensible than Osimo.

Therefore, Wittigis decided to keep

Osimo principally because it was a large

defensible city that was relatively close

to Ravenna. By choosing to hold Osimo,

Wittigis also had to hold Ancona which

was effectively Osimo’s port. If he had

decided to raze the fortress at Ancona

and leave it undefended, a Byzantine

army could approach from the sea and

thereby besiege Osimo from that

direction with impunity.

Alongside Wittigis’ strategic

motivations, there may also have been a

desire to prevent regional control by

removing two key urban and

administrative centres. It has been

suggested that the aim of Totila in

dismantling the walls of cities was to

remove key urban centres, the

occupation of which would grant the

Byzantines control of certain regions.

However, this does not necessarily apply

to those cities razed by Wittigis, including

Fano and Pesaro.

Nevertheless, both Fano and

Pesaro were urban and administrative

centres. Under the Roman Empire,

Pesaro had been a place of trade and

had a Collegium Fabrorum Navalium.


However, Fano had even greater urban

and administrative significance under the

Roman Empire. The continued

importance of Fano is attested to

throughout the Roman period.

Furthermore, by 536 the significance of

cities like Fano and Pesaro may have

grown as many cities in the modern

region of Marche had been abandoned

by the sixth century, thereby reducing the

number of important urban settlements.

However, they were certainly not the

principle urban centres on the Adriatic

coast. As Dall’Aglio noted, Procopius

referred to Fano and Pesaro as “small

towns” (polismata). Whereas Ancona and

Rimini were defined as “city” (poleis).

This suggests that Fano and Pesaro

were part of an administrative hierarchy

in which they were considered of lower

rank than cities like Rimini and Ancona.

Moreover, the nearby city of Osimo was

described by Procopius as a metropolis

and the first city of Picenum. Whilst the

relative insignificance of Fano and

Pesaro may be partly due to the damage

caused by Wittigis, there is no reason to

suppose that Fano and Pesaro were

more regionally significant that Rimini or

Ancona by 536. Therefore, while both

cities clearly had some regional

significance, they cannot be regarded as

having had the same regional

significance as other cities whose walls

were razed by the Gothic leadership, like

Milan. Thus, Wittigis’ principal aim was

probably not to remove regional centres.

If that were the case, then he would

surely have slighted the walls of other

nearby cities that were equally, if not

more regionally significant.

To further examine Wittigis’

motivations for slighting the walls of

Fano and Pesaro, the extent of the

damage done to the walls must be

considered. According to Procopius,

Wittigis had: ‘torn down their [Fano and

Pesaro’s] walls to about half their height’.

1

The archaeological evidence seems to

support Procopius’ statement that the

walls were dismantled to “half” (“ἥμισυ ”)

of their original height. The remains of

the Roman walls of Fano provide

possible evidence of Wittigis’

destruction. This can be seen in the

1 Procopius, History of the Wars, trans. H. B. Dewing, Vol. IV (Cambridge MA, 1924), VII, p. 245.


upper part of the wall at the Porta della

Mandria, which seems to have been

dismantled.

Furthermore, there is also

archaeological evidence for Belisarius’

makeshift restoration of Pesaro’s walls.

At least ten areas along the curtain wall

seem to have been repaired using reused

material belonging to the Imperial age.

The fact that Wittigis only partially

dismantled the walls of Fano and Pesaro

suggests that it was a temporary

measure. Wittigis presumably intended

to rebuild the two cities after he had won

the war. Belisarius demonstrated that the

walls of Pesaro could be hastily repaired

and defended when he rapidly repaired

them and managed to hold the city

against Totila in 545. Wittigis was clearly

seeking a speedy conclusion to the war,

as the letter written on his behalf to

Justinian suggests. Wittigis sought to

temporarily prevent the capture of the

two cities in his absence as he was

planning to march south to confront

Belisarius.

Lastly, another part of Wittigis’

motivation for damaging the walls of

Fano and Pesaro may have been his

desire to avoid the betrayal of the cities

at the hands of the distrustful

inhabitants. This was certainly

considered a legitimate reason to raze a

city’s walls. At least by Procopius. In the

fifth century, as Procopius described,

Gaiseric tore down the walls of all the

cities in Libya, excluding Carthage, partly

so that the Libyans would not have

strong bases from which they could

launch a rebellion.

Moreover, the potential disloyalty of the

inhabitants of cities was clearly a

concern for Wittigis. According to

Procopius, before departing from Rome,

Wittigis delivered an exhortation to the

city’s population, in which he urged them

to remain loyal to the Gothic cause.

Wittigis’ concern likely stemmed from

the fact that the population of southern

Italy, (excluding Naples) had surrendered

willingly to Belisarius not long before this

exhortation. Therefore, part of Wittigis’

concern may have been that if he had

garrisoned Fano and Pesaro, the

inhabitants may have betrayed the

garrison.

However, Wittigis did not have reason

to be particularly suspicious of the


inhabitants of Fano and Pesaro. These

cities had not been previously betrayed

by the inhabitants, unlike Milan, the only

other city razed on Wittigis’ orders. Thus,

Wittigis would have had no reason to be

more suspicious of the inhabitants of

Fano and Pesaro than other nearby cities

like Rimini and Osimo. Yet, he chose to

garrison them. Therefore, a fear of the

inhabitants betraying the cities of Fano

and Pesaro to the enemy was clearly not

Wittigis’ principal motivation for slighting

their walls. Clearly, Wittigis’ motivations

for slighting the walls of Fano and

Pesaro were not quite as Procopius

would have us believe.

Through this brief glimpse into Gothic

military strategy in the Gothic War, it is

clear that razing a city’s walls in late

antiquity was not a strategically singular

affair. Furthermore, the motivations

behind razing city walls were rarely as

simple as writers like Procopius would

have us believe. Only through a case by

case analysis do the many moving parts

become clear. Slighting fortifications, not

unlike many other aspects of late antique

warfare, was a strategically complex

undertaking. Therefore, greater attention

should be paid to the role of slighting

fortifications in military strategy in late

antiquity.

Selected Bibliography

Agnati, U., Per la storia romana della provincia di Pesaro e Urbino (Roma, 1999).

Blundo, M. L., ‘Da Sentium a Sassoferrato. Vita e morte di un’area sacra’ (PhD. thesis, Universita Roma Tre, 2014).

Burns, T., A History of the Ostrogoths (Bloomington and Indianapolis, 1991).

Dall’Aglio, P. L., ‘Pesaro tra tardoantico e primo medioevo’ in P. L. Dall’Aglio, I. D. Cocco (eds), Pesaro Romana: Archeologia e Urbanistica (Bologna, 2004), pp. 67-80.

Halsall, G., Warfare and Society in the Barbarian West, 450-900 (Abingdon, 2003).

Procopius, History of the Wars, trans. H. B. Dewing, Vol. IV (Cambridge MA, 1924).


An Interview with Marek Jankowiak Associate Professor of History, Corpus Christi CollegeInterviewer: Peter Guevara (Wolfson College)

This year for our series of interviews with

leading historians in Late Antique and

Byzantine studies, the Byzantinist sat

down with the newest member of the

LABS Faculty here at Oxford, Dr. Marek

Jankowiak. He is known for research on

slavery in the Medieval world, but slightly

less well-known is his path to taking up

history and his approaches to the

subject.

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Gdansk, a very beautiful

medieval city on the Baltic, which

triggered my interest in the history of the

Baltics and but also a very politically

active city at that time in the 80s and 90s

and this played a role in shaping in my

ideas and my awareness of history

happening before my eyes.

Was history your favourite subject

growing up?

I guess it was my second favourite

subject, just after mathematics.

What was your favourite thing about

mathematics?

That is a difficult question. I did quite a

lot of mathematics. I did two years of

university in applied mathematics. I think

the reason that really made me give up

on mathematics was the study of

topology, which is a very abstract part of

multi-dimensional geometry. That was

amazingly abstract. I found it too difficult


but I’m still fascinated by that sort of

thinking.

Do you believe that thinking is working for

you or helping you with your current

work?

It certainly is. It clearly makes me

interested in all sorts of quantitative

approaches, which still work pretty well

for some parts of medieval history so it

is not a total coincidence that I am

working on coins: counting them and, of

course, applying quantitative approaches

to that. But of course, as

mathematicians say, mathematics is a

way of thinking, really. It helps to

structure thoughts and to think in a more

logical, structured and precise way.

Do you think it would be useful to try and

create mathematical models to mimic

developments in the medieval world?

Models are always misleading in various

senses. They have limitations and we

just do not have the data to create

reliable models. But just thinking in

quantitative terms, of counting things

and being aware of how many things we

have, what are the numerical relations

between all sorts of things that we

have—this I find quite useful. To give an

example, well, it matters how many

things we have. For instance, if we have

800 churches in Cappadocia, this can be

a starting point for reasoning on how

many households we had in Cappadocia

in the 10th and 11th centuries when those

churches apparently were mostly

constructed (or cut in the rock). So I’m

not sure if models will answer our

questions. We, again, do not have

enough data to build models but just

remembering the quantitative side of our

material, I think, is very useful.

You did your doctorate. What came next?

Next came McKinsey, which is one of

those global consulting firms (or I should

say global strategic consulting firms),

basically a continuation of my interests

that I developed when I was studying

economics - so I was interested in

finance, banking, and international trade

because I was majoring in those

subjects. It so happened that I applied

for many different jobs. I was

consistently unsuccessful, in a sense.

They offered me a job after a long search


for a job in finance and I was very happy

to join them for a couple of years.

When you were working with McKinsey,

did you see yourself working there for a

long time?

It’s not a job to do for a long time. It’s

extremely intensive work. One is under

quite a lot of pressure with very

competitive people. So I thought of it as

a very useful experience and a very

attractive job for my CV. I still didn’t really

know what to do after that, whether to

stay in academia or whether I wanted to

have a career in finance, banking or

consulting. In that sense, I thought it was

an extremely useful job but I never

thought that I would stay for very long. I

stayed for four years, which was longer

than I thought.

From 2009 to 2013?

Well, it’s more complicated. In fact, from

2005 to 2008 and 2009 to 2010 because

I started doing it before I finished my

thesis.

So you started before your PhD defence

and continued on then for a little bit.

I had my doubts when I started to write

my PhD thesis and my doubts increased

with time. So after two or three years of

my PhD I decided to try something else

and I suspended my PhD for that time. I

returned to Paris and I finished it.

It seems like within one year you

produced almost the entirety of your

thesis.

I wrote it very fast. This is true. I thought

about it a lot. I was well prepared but the

writing up was quite fast. I’m not sure if I

can write as fast these days but I

enjoyed writing in French a lot. That was

a pleasant experience.

Your studies and your work have taken

you all around Europe. Is there someone

out there whom you would take with you

on a road trip or some kind of travel

around the world?

I don’t know about around the world but

Oxford is a place where you meet very

interesting people and I’ve been traveling

with a number of people from Oxford,

including Mark Whittow earlier. I’m


currently planning travels with other

friends from Oxford. So there are actually

a lot of people I would be happy to travel

with, among all sorts of Oxford friends.

If you had to choose one though?

Well, Mark was really the ideal travel

companion. I didn’t get to travel too

much with Mark but I went on two trips

with Mark and Helen, and once with our

doctoral student. These were extremely

enjoyable experiences.

Where did you go on your excursions?

We went to Moravia, Southern Poland

and Western Ukraine to look at Slavic

hill-forts. We then went to Tatarstan, to

Volga Bulgaria, which was a brief trip of

several days but apart from sightseeing

we tried quite a lot of local cuisine,

including kumis, the famous nomadic

fermented slightly alcoholic drink

produced of fermented mare’s milk,

which fully deserves its reputation in the

western travellers going to the Mongol

court, who were shocked by the taste of

kumis. Indeed, it has an extremely strong

taste. It probably takes some time to

start to enjoy it. We tried this drink, we

tried local versions of horse meat. When

I was slightly teasing Mark and Helen

whether they would eat horse, given the

British taboo against eating horse, but

they very bravely did. So yes, that was a

very enjoyable trip, that combined

sightseeing and all sorts of pleasant

experiences.

Have these trips informed any of the work

that you’re currently doing so far?

Certainly—yes. It is crucial to see the

things that we are writing about. It is

absolutely crucial to see the landscapes,

certainly crucial to see the sights, to talk

to the local archaeologists, to go to the

local museums. In the case of Volga

Bulgaria—Tatarstan—it was significant in

the 10th, 11th and 12th centuries. The

problem is that virtually nothing has been

written, so there’s virtually nothing in any

Western language and not much in

Russian, whereas we realise that there’s

a lot of really interesting archaeology

that suggests unexpected things like the

transformation of the economic basis of

Volga Bulgaria, at some point, to a more

commercially-oriented and more

agriculturally-oriented polity. So these are


the sort of things that you can only

discover when you actually go there and

see the sites.

How do you see your work affecting the

wider scholarship of Byzantium over the

next couple of years?

What I am planning to do over the next

couple of years is to bring to publication

the research that I have been doing in the

last few years. On the one hand, to

publish what we have produced in the

‘Dirhams for Slaves’ Project. We are very

close to publishing three edited volumes.

We are planning to publish a catalogue

of Dirham imitations, which I think is an

extremely interesting source and I am

writing my monograph on the slave

trade—this is one of the priorities. The

second priority is to publish my research

on the 7th century, especially on the

Monothelete Controversies, the

translation of the Acts of the Sixth

Ecumenical Council with Richard Price

and my dissertation. So I don’t know how

this will affect the wider world of

Byzantinists but there isn’t much on

either of those topics so I hope people

will find it interesting.

As I understand, you were at Birmingham

as well. That was from which years?

That was in fact last year, so 2017-18.

So one year at Birmingham. If you could

describe your experience at Birmingham

in one word, how would you describe it?

I’m not sure, perhaps ‘motivating.’ That

was a good experience, partly because I

was on a research contract so I did

teach. In fact, I taught quite a lot but I

had some time for research, so I guess

that was close to the ideal balance

between teaching and research. That

was quite a rewarding experience and it

is useful to see I guess to see a normal

British university different from Oxbridge.

Where do you see yourself in five years?

I would happily see myself still here. I

think it is such an intense job that I would

be happy if I managed to do it properly in

the coming years. It is certainly a

demanding job; the bar has been set

extremely high by James and Mark. So I

would be happy if in those next years I

manage to get close to the bar that

they’ve set for the incumbent in this

position.


A Nephew and a Crusade - Anna Komnene’s “target” in the Alexiad Louis Nicholson-Pallett (The Queen’s College)

The Alexiad retains a

special place amongst

Byzantine literature. Aside

from Procopius’ Secret

History, Anna Komnene’s

narrative on her father’s

reign is one of the few that

has been discussed

extensively in secondary work. The

reason for this is fairly obvious – as a

key source on the passage of the First

Crusade, it has drawn the attention of

both Byzantinists and Crusader

Historians to understand and assess

Anna’s aims.

On the surface, her aims appear

obvious: to compose, in the words of

Penelope Buckley, a myth around the

reign of her father, Alexios I. But there is

a debate as to whether Anna was

attempting to target and criticise certain

figures as well. The most pronounced

target was the Latin Crusaders, whom

Anna compared to a ‘plague of locusts’

and repeatedly asserted their wish to

seize the empire. However, Paul

Magdalino has argued that both the

praising of Alexios and the sinister

depiction of the crusaders was part of an

overarching criticism of John II and

Manuel I, Anna’s brother and nephew.

One cannot deny that parts of the Alexiad

certainly support Magdalino’s view. Anna

states that the noble deeds of her father

‘came to nothing through the stupidity of

those who inherited his throne.’ It is

evident that Anna did not like her brother

– she seems to have attempted to take

the throne from John after Alexios’

death. However, this is of course not

enough to suggest that Anna attempted

to target John and Manuel above the

crusaders, since the latter are

consistently criticised throughout the

Alexiad. Instead, Magdalino insists that

Anna’s depiction of her father’s

character, actions, and intentions are


purposefully depicted as opposites to

those of Manuel.

Indeed, this argument has some

weight. Magdalino points out that, in the

Alexiad, Alexios was a pious individual

and defender of Orthodoxy, whereas

Manual was a ‘young profligate who

slept around, spent lavishly [and] dabbled

in astrology’. Alexios was brave yet

cautious, following a careful strategy –

Manuel, on the other hand, was

impetuous, always wishing to seek glory

for himself. Those adjectives praising

Alexios, Magdalino insists, are carefully

chosen to mirror contemporary

assessments of Manuel’s character.

But this is not necessarily the case.

Deciphering what an author means is

one of the most prolific problems in

historiography, and this argument is

particularly vulnerable as it makes

assumptions on what Anna means. Was

Anna attempting to create a reflection of

Manuel’s character by depicting Alexios

in a certain way? Or was she simply

following the panegyric style of her

work? Piety, bravery, and caution are

standard praises to be given in this style

of work. They fall into the ‘myth’ of

Alexios Buckley refers to.

Thus, this is not sufficient to support

Magdalino’s argument. However, what

about the other views on the aims of the

Alexiad? R.D. Thomas, John France, and

P. Stephenson have all presented slightly

different views. Yet these views all agree

that denouncing the crusaders was,

aside from creating a myth around

Alexios, the key aim of the Alexiad.

‘Anna presents her father

standing firm against, and dominating all

barbarians’ R.D. Thomas tells us, arguing

that, whilst this includes the Turks,

Cumans, and Bogomil heretics, it

inevitably must also include the

Normans, Celts, and Franks. Thomas

indicates that the Roman ‘way of life’ is

what is at stake in the Alexiad. The

Alexios of the Alexiad never trusted the

Latins and made sure to outmanoeuvre

them at every turn. There is no better

depiction of this than the siege of Nicaea,

in which Alexios used the pressure of the

enormous crusader force to push the

Seljuk rulers of the city into negotiation

and surrender. At the same time tricking

the crusaders into believing that the


Byzantine detachment led by Manuel

Boutoumites had captured the city

themselves, thus sparing Nicaea of a

vicious sack.

One cannot deny that Alexios’ distrust of

the crusaders was fair. They had already

caused violence on their way to

Constantinople, burning ‘a castle of

heretics’ in Palagonia – an event

mentioned by both the Gesta Francorum

et Aliorum Hierosolimitanorum and the

Alexiad. And, of course, the bloody sack

that Jerusalem was to suffer later, the

violence of which even shocked the

author of the Gesta Francorum. So, we

can probably assume that Anna’s

depiction of Alexios in this regard is fairly

accurate.

Yet, whilst one cannot deny the

importance of Alexios’ distrust of the

Latins in the Alexiad, Magdalino is able to

turn this to his advantage. Manuel did

not simply view the Latins as tools for

expansion, as Alexios and John did, but

actively liked them. Magdalino argues

that the negative portrayals of the Latins

were indirect criticisms of the wife of

Manuel, Bertha of Sulzback. Again, Anna

does not reference her directly – she of

course could not – but the marriage of

the Emperor to a Latin princess must

have disturbed Anna greatly. Jonathan

Harris uses the infamous phrase –

originally spoken by Margaret Thatcher

in reference to the union leaders – ‘the

Enemy Within’ to describe the Latins

within the court of Manuel. One cannot

help thinking that this is exactly how

Anna saw the relationship between

Manuel and the Latins.

Understanding the depiction of the Latins

in the Alexiad as a subtle yet profound

criticism of Manuel’s relations with them

certainly supports Magdalino’s view. Not

least of all because of the sheer amount

of time Anna dedicates not only to

Alexios’ dealings with the crusaders, but

the disorderly and often violent

descriptions of the Latins. For

Magdalino’s argument to stand, we must

assess Alexios’ involvement in the First

Crusade. The historiography on this is

wide and varied, so for the sake of

simplicity I have narrowed it down to two

extremes.

The first was proposed by Sir

Steven Runciman. It may not come as a

surprise that Runciman almost echoes


the exact sentiments Anna herself

asserts in the Alexiad – that Alexios was

‘informed that instead of the individual

knights or small companies he

expected… whole Frankish armies were

on the move’. Although even Runciman

could not accept Anna’s argument

without conceding some points,

although he certain echoes the idea of

dread and shock that Alexios

experiences when first informed of the

movement of the First Crusade in the

Alexiad.

Anna actually attributed the leader and

catalyst of the First Crusade to Peter the

Hermit. Anna states that, returning from

the Holy Land after suffering at the

hands of the Turks, Peter claimed that

God had ‘commanded him to proclaim to

all the counts of France that all

should…strive to liberate Jerusalem from

the Agarenes’. Attributing the crusade to

Peter is a stroke of genius. It clears

Alexios of any charge of involvement in

the First Crusade and allows Anna to

demonise the crusaders without

incriminating her father. Alexios could

have conducted diplomacy with the

Papacy in inciting the crusade – he

certainly could not have done the same

with Peter the Hermit. At the same time,

he was not a completely unrealistic

figure to blame for the crusade. Peter

had roused a large group to travel east,

known as the ‘People’s Crusade’, clearly

due to his success as a preacher. He

was also the first to arrive, and the first

crusader ‘army’ to meet the Byzantines.

Determining to what extent Anna

is attempting to deceive us here helps us

understand to what degree she is

targeting the crusaders and, through this,

Manuel. This invites the argument on the

other extreme, proposed by Peter

Frankopan. Frankopan suggests that

Alexios had a far more active hand in the

call for a crusade. This moves away from

the more tradition assertion that Alexios

simply expected a few well-trained

mercenaries, like those he received from

Robert I of Flanders a decade earlier, to

something which seems to agree more

with Western sources. For example,

Ekkehard of Aura notes that,


Even the aforementioned

emperor of Constantinople,

Alexios, sent not a few letters

to Pope Urban [II] concerning

these barbarian

depredations, which had

already flooded the greater

part of his realm. In these

letters he lamented not

having sufficient forces to

defend the eastern Churches

and implored the pope, if it

were possible, to call upon

the West…

Indeed, Frankopan suggests that

Alexios was attempting to do more than

simply request large military support for

the east. This is not suggested in the

passages by Ekkehard of Aura and

Gilbert of Mons, yet a similar tactic was

tried by the Byzantines in 1062, when

three envoys from the emperor

Constantine X requested assistance

from the Papacy against the Normans

as well as for an expedition to

Jerusalem. Hence, this level of

involvement by Alexios seriously

undermines the reliability of Anna’s

account – if she covered the truth here,

did she do it elsewhere?

On the other hand, two key

problems arise within Frankopan’s

argument. He asserts that the Byzantine

Empire, particularly Alexios, was in an

awfully precarious position by the

mid-1090s, so turned to the west to

seek aid in a final act of desperation.

Yet, by 1095 Alexios’ position was far

more stable than it had been in the early

1080s. Victory over the Normans and

the collapse of Seljuk power in the East

(the same collapse of power,

incidentally, that led to the success of

the First Crusade), secured the perfect

conditions for Byzantine expansion.

Frankopan also argues that the rumours

that were circulated about the treatment

of Christians by the Muslim rulers of the

Holy Land were so consistent because

‘so much of the information was

emanating from the emperor’. Indeed,

the rumours were very similar, but there

may be a simpler explanation. Rumours

of churches being destroyed, and

Christians being persecuted are fairly

common tactics when inciting a


movement and did not necessarily have

to be created by one figure. Any

attempt to unite a group against a

common enemy will paint that enemy in

a prejudiced light, suggesting that they

are barbaric and violent. To take some

random events from history, in the

aftermath of the capture of

Constantinople in 1453, the cardinal

Bassilios Bessarion wrote that

Constantinople was ‘captured,

despoiled, ravaged and completely

sacked by the most inhuman barbarians

and the most savage enemies of the

Christian faith, by the fiercest of wild

beasts.’ When the Irish rose up in

rebellion in 1641, pamphlets depicting

the rebels carrying spikes with the

young impaled upon them were widely

circulated. And a countless number of

propaganda posters from the First and

Second World wars depict the opposing

side as destroyers of culture and

humanity (the most obvious being the

‘Destroy this mad brute – enlist’ poster

from the First World War).

So, although Frankopan’s argument

goes too far, it certainly heads in the

right direction, and implicates

Magdalino’s argument. But there is

another explanation. Every writer, whilst

influenced by their own life experiences,

are also influenced by the context of the

time of their writings. The parts of

Psellos’ Chronographia written in the

1070s are often considered of a

different nature to those written a

decade earlier. The same approach

must be done when referring to the

Alexiad. Anna was writing during the

1140s and critically during the Second

Crusade. This is the view held by P.

Stephenson, who asserts that the

Alexiad is an excellent source for the

Second Crusade, especially sentiments

of the Byzantine aristocracy at the time.

In this way, Anna’s painting of the

crusaders as barbaric and violent is not

an attempt to criticise Manuel but to

remind the Byzantines that the

crusaders are not the ally of the empire

but the enemy. Indeed, Anna’s opening

remarks point to her attempt to stop the

‘stream of Time’ plunging the deeds of

men into darkness. Presumably this

includes both the good and the

destructive.


Moreover, Anna explicitly paints the

crusaders as oath-breakers. This is the

line of argument John France takes. In

the Alexiad, Bohemond takes Antioch

purely to ‘glorify himself’, and not for the

sake of Christendom or even the Latins

themselves. In doing so, Bohemond and

the other leaders of the crusaders broke

the oaths they swore to Alexios – the

same oaths Manuel demanded of the

leaders of the Second Crusade. Anna

takes this further by including the entire

Treaty of Devol (the one between

Bohemond and Alexios after the

former’s defeat, which handed over

Antioch to the latter). The inclusion of

this is quite unorthodox and is very

clearly highlighting the treachery of

Tancred and the crusaders. One might

suggest that this is a criticism of

Manuel’s close relations with the Latins,

but of course, Alexios had also

demanded oaths be taken by the

crusaders. This is a key similarity

between Alexios and Manuel. So,

instead of a criticism of Manuel as

being different from his grandfather, it is

a warning and a reminder to the

Byzantines that these oaths do not

work. In the Alexiad, Alexios – out of no

fault of his own – underestimated the

treachery of the crusaders, and his

efforts to make the Latins swear oaths

came to naught.

Hence, we are left with these

different views on Anna Komnene’s

Alexiad. As flawed as her writings are,

one cannot imagine studying the reign

of Alexios without them. But to

understand the reign of her father, or

Byzantium’s relations with the

crusaders, or indeed the passage of the

First Crusade itself, one must assess

the Anna’s agenda in the Alexiad. Few

works remain so explicit in their biases,

and yet so mysterious in their aims.


A Speech by Demetrius Cydones John Francis Martin (Corpus Christi College)

Loukas Notaras’

famous line ‘it would

be better to see the

turban reign in the

City’s midst than the

Latin mitre’ epitomises

an attitude well known

to all students of

Byzantium, one which

continues to elicit

lively debate. A 2

fascinating and unique insight into the

matter of Byzantine anti-Latinism and

Turkish relations is found in a speech

made by Demetrius Cydones in 1366 to 3

2 Doukas, 37.10. Certainly the significance of the line can be nuanced by asking questions such as: Was Notaras referring to western spiritual rule rather than temporal? Does the Greek word καλύπτραν really refer to a bishops mitre, or to some other symbol of authority? Or did Notaras even say it – he who fought bravely against the Turks in 1453? 3 Cydones was a one of the first Byzantines ever to master Latin, developed a great love of western Scholasticism, especially Aquinas (whom he translated extensively into Greek), and eventually, in the wake of the Hesychast controversy, converted to Catholicism. He was also, it would seem, John V’s most senior minister, and it was in this capacity, while the

the assembled Senate. The motion:

Should we accept Western military aid

and the return of the key fortress of

Gallipoli (which an Italian crusading

force, under Amdeo VI of Savoy, had just

recaptured from Ottomans), or should

we, rather, turn them away and make

Peace with the Turks?

Cydones’ speech reveals that there

was a significant faction in

Constantinople, including members of

the Senatorial class, which was strongly

opposed to Western involvement in

Byzantine affairs, and which manifested

significant pro-Turkish tendencies. Part

of the great value of this primary source

is that, not only does it address a matter

which the majority of Byzantine writers

are slow to acknowledge, but it also

contains the foresight of almost a

century, before Byzantine society had

been irreparably rent asunder in the wake

of the Council of Florence, and a

meaningful act of defiance, before

emperor was away from the capital, that he made this remarkable speech.


Turkish conquest was inevitable. It thus

offers us an invaluable lens through

which to observe the situation on the

ground, and helps illuminate some of the

societal attitudes, free of the rhetorical

extremes elicited by the crisis of the last

days, that may have contributed to

Byzantium’s ultimate collapse.

The peroration of Cydones’ Oratio Pro subsidio Latinorum (in Migne, PG 154, 1004-8):

To even consider such a

proposition [i.e., to reject

Amadeo’s offer of Gallipoli, and

refuse to welcome him into

Constantinople] is ridiculous. A

reasonable person, a citizen of a

city such as ours, would naturally

think anybody who says such

things to be insane. Indeed if

someone were our enemy, rather,

he would urge us to follow this

sort of advice. We, on the other

hand, holding to proper reasoning,

must not stand still, nor can we

allow the naysayers to persist in

spouting rampant nonsense, as

they look to gain the favour of I

can’t imagine whom with their

empty prattle. Rather, regarding

time wasted as long as we sit

deliberating, we ought to welcome

them [the Latins] like men long

away from home – from their

parents or their children or those

closest to them – and

acknowledging our thanks to

Providence for their enthusiasm,

openly attribute to Her their

present arrival; not, on account of

some small things which might

befall us or might not, do damage

to our freedom. To say nothing of

what is now expected by

everyone, even by those who are

burdened by these things... 4

For consider the condition to

which we have now been brought:

what is there to hope for if we

send these men away? We, for

whom the bounds of empire were

once coterminous with those of

the Christian world, now sit

thinking it good fortune if any of

us should be permitted to be

enslaved [i.e., rather than killed].

4 Line unclear.


And the city most blessed of all

beneath heaven, to which every

people once swarmed on account

of its grace and delight and

surpassing splendour, has now

become a prison for its

inhabitants. On all sides her gates

are closed. None approach her

ports without peril. And those who

do put in, bringing with them

dread rumours from without,

experience far worse within. For,

for us within the walls there is

groaning, poverty, penury and

tears; but for those looking out

from the watchtowers there are

barbarian hordes, the ravaging of

the land, ditches full of the

corpses of our dead, and cruel

fire, consuming homes, churches,

the finest public buildings, and, in

a word, everything. And there are

blasphemies against God, and

(who could not shudder at it)

scorn of the Cross, and mockery

of the faith, and holy icons carried

about without honour, and terrible

threats, which not even he whom

we worship – Christ himself –

seems able to prevent.

Famine holds all in its grip. And no

land remains for us to cultivate,

nor can merchants make their

journeys without fear of pirates.

Wherefore to workmen their toil

seems useless, since they have

not the materials to ply their trade;

in the case of soldiers, fear

restrains the attack; and masters,

deserted by their slaves, receive in

their place that same lot. The

whole aspect of the city is seen by

all to have changed, as though in

mourning; and everyone, smitten

with this synod of evils, has

emigrated. Indeed, what perturbs

even the intelligent, is that even

from among the governing

classes many have become so

servile in their logic as to say that

there is some good to be had in

slavery at the hands of those

barbarians and in subjecting the

Romans to yet heavier burdens.

Thus they even go over to them

[the Turks] openly, spending


specified lengths of time with

them, and receiving sheep, and

cattle, and horses, and money as

their bounty for betraying us. And

carousing with them they crow

our destruction and drink to the

house of one so-and-so, or to the

beauty of his wife, or to their

children, longing to be seen by

everyone to be venerated in their

presence. Having said and done

such things they then return,

intimating to the citizens that if

they do not keep quiet they shall

accuse them before their

“masters” [the Turks]; not

shrinking from calling those

destructive demons by such a

name. And they [the poor citizens]

in turn shudder, and pray for the

old age of those whom they

should rightly despise, beseeching

them [the traitors] to have a

thought for them in their revels.

Indeed these hirelings have

assumed such an outspokenness

that they do not even shrink from

making shameful public orations

on their [the Turks’] behalf and

from doing everything to gratify

them; which is nothing less than

betraying the city and openly

proclaiming them the masters of

all. And so it is that now even

those who desire to bring about

the fall of the City by treaty, are

fearful lest they be beaten to it by

those wretches in handing us

over.

Thus affairs have been brought to

an impasse, and thus to live in

freedom seems, in the time that

remains, the one thing near

impossible – because you

consider it a waste of time to

attempt to remedy our daily

losses, and think, moreover, that

passing the day at ease is what

most befits men, calling all of

those who urge the right thing

fools, and looking to bestow the

greatest honours upon those who

share in our contest for pleasures.

In addition to that, you welcome

those who are clearly our

enemies, deceived into trusting


them, whereas those who have

assembled an army for us and

professed themselves our allies

[Amadeo and his troops] you

suspect, searching for pretexts on

which to annul our pacts of

friendship.

However, if, condemning the

former, we should make use of

those now given to us by God,

and, shaking off those who

oppose us and banishing those

tellers of tales for old women, you

should chose to fight the final

fight for our common salvation, I

think, and let this be said before

God, that all shall be well for us,

not merely at home, but also very

far afield. Not only shall we save

for our homeland that which

compensates for everything:

freedom; but we shall also rule

over more than before. All those

who were once under us will

return to us, and will submit to our

laws, whilst we, regaining our

courage, shall beset the

barbarians on all sides.

For now seeing us cowering, they

too naturally draw back [i.e., our

former subjects], and endure their

slavery, seeing their masters

shrinking from the task. But if they

should see us looking the matter

boldly in the face, they too would

contribute their resources. For if

the barbarians are beset from the

outside, their [Christian] subjects

will not long keep quiet.

For indeed, if one is to place any

trust in rumours and the word on

the street, there was a certain

prophecy that aid would come to

us and our city from the sea and

from the Alps, and all would see

them crushing the hubris of the

barbarians, and forcing them,

finally, to serve those whom they

had formerly ruled. And so it is

that the barbarians have always

harboured this very fear in their

hearts, so that whenever they

gather to deliberate the following

consensus always prevails, that

they ought not to be excessively


heavy-handed when dealing with

us, but ought rather to destroy us

bit by bit, careful not to drive us to

despair, lest we, driven to

desperation, should flee to those

who are now present of their own

accord, and they [the Turks]

should have to march out and

fight a hard battle.

Let us therefore welcome this

prophecy as a good omen, one to

which even our enemies pay heed

when deliberating, and let us not

allow the exhortations of those in

favour of the barbarians to carry

the day. For it would be absurd,

when they [the Turks] fear these

very things, and pray for these

men [the Latins] to stay at home,

for us to then reject them when

they have arrived, and thus

choose to cooperate with the

desires of our enemies.


The Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies

The Society for the Promotion of Byzantine Studies (SPBS) promotes the study of the history and culture, language and literature of the Byzantine Empire and its neighbours.

The Society organises: • an annual Symposium

• special events and lectures • study days for postgraduates

Members’ benefits: • Bulletin of British Byzantine Studies (BBBS)

• Autumn Newsletter • discounts on the Symposium registration fee

• student bursaries

For more information and details of how to join, see the Society’s website: www.byzantium.ac.uk

or contact:

The Membership Secretary Aikaterini Vavaliou Wadham College Oxford OX1 3PN

E-mail: [email protected]


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