The fraternal concord of the two sons of the great Alexius had been

sometimes clouded by an opposition of interest and passion. By ambition,

Isaac the Sebastocrator was excited to flight and rebellion, from whence

he was reclaimed by the firmness and clemency of John the Handsome. The

errors of Isaac, the father of the emperors of Trebizond, were short and

venial; but John, the elder of his sons, renounced forever his religion.

Provoked by a real or imaginary insult of his uncle, he escaped from the

Roman to the Turkish camp: his apostasy was rewarded with the sultan's

daughter, the title of Chelebi, or noble, and the inheritance of a

princely estate; and in the fifteenth century, Mahomet the Second

boasted of his Imperial descent from the Comnenian family. Andronicus,

the younger brother of John, son of Isaac, and grandson of Alexius

Comnenus, is one of the most conspicuous characters of the age; and his

genuine adventures might form the subject of a very singular romance. To

justify the choice of three ladies of royal birth, it is incumbent on me

to observe, that their fortunate lover was cast in the best proportions

of strength and beauty; and that the want of the softer graces was

supplied by a manly countenance, a lofty stature, athletic muscles, and

the air and deportment of a soldier. The preservation, in his old age,

of health and vigor, was the reward of temperance and exercise. A piece

of bread and a draught of water was often his sole and evening repast;

and if he tasted of a wild boar or a stag, which he had roasted with his

own hands, it was the well-earned fruit of a laborious chase. Dexterous

in arms, he was ignorant of fear; his persuasive eloquence could bend

to every situation and character of life, his style, though not his

practice, was fashioned by the example of St. Paul; and, in every deed

of mischief, he had a heart to resolve, a head to contrive, and a

hand to execute. In his youth, after the death of the emperor John, he

followed the retreat of the Roman army; but, in the march through Asia

Minor, design or accident tempted him to wander in the mountains: the

hunter was encompassed by the Turkish huntsmen, and he remained some

time a reluctant or willing captive in the power of the sultan. His

virtues and vices recommended him to the favor of his cousin: he shared

the perils and the pleasures of Manuel; and while the emperor lived

in public incest with his niece Theodora, the affections of her sister

Eudocia were seduced and enjoyed by Andronicus. Above the decencies of

her sex and rank, she gloried in the name of his concubine; and both

the palace and the camp could witness that she slept, or watched, in

the arms of her lover. She accompanied him to his military command of

Cilicia, the first scene of his valor and imprudence. He pressed, with

active ardor, the siege of Mopsuestia: the day was employed in the

boldest attacks; but the night was wasted in song and dance; and a band

of Greek comedians formed the choicest part of his retinue. Andronicus

was surprised by the sally of a vigilant foe; but, while his troops fled

in disorder, his invincible lance transpierced the thickest ranks of

the Armenians. On his return to the Imperial camp in Macedonia, he was

received by Manuel with public smiles and a private reproof; but

the duchies of Naissus, Braniseba, and Castoria, were the reward or

consolation of the unsuccessful general. Eudocia still attended his

motions: at midnight, their tent was suddenly attacked by her angry

brothers, impatient to expiate her infamy in his blood: his daring

spirit refused her advice, and the disguise of a female habit; and,

boldly starting from his couch, he drew his sword, and cut his way

through the numerous assassins. It was here that he first betrayed his

ingratitude and treachery: he engaged in a treasonable correspondence

with the king of Hungary and the German emperor; approached the royal

tent at a suspicious hour with a drawn sword, and under the mask of a

Latin soldier, avowed an intention of revenge against a mortal foe;

and imprudently praised the fleetness of his horse as an instrument of

flight and safety. The monarch dissembled his suspicions; but, after the

close of the campaign, Andronicus was arrested and strictly confined in

a tower of the palace of Constantinople.

In this prison he was left about twelve years; a most painful restraint,

from which the thirst of action and pleasure perpetually urged him to

escape. Alone and pensive, he perceived some broken bricks in a corner

of the chamber, and gradually widened the passage, till he had explored

a dark and forgotten recess. Into this hole he conveyed himself, and

the remains of his provisions, replacing the bricks in their former

position, and erasing with care the footsteps of his retreat. At the

hour of the customary visit, his guards were amazed by the silence

and solitude of the prison, and reported, with shame and fear, his

incomprehensible flight. The gates of the palace and city were instantly

shut: the strictest orders were despatched into the provinces, for the

recovery of the fugitive; and his wife, on the suspicion of a pious act,

was basely imprisoned in the same tower. At the dead of night she beheld

a spectre; she recognized her husband: they shared their provisions;

and a son was the fruit of these stolen interviews, which alleviated

the tediousness of their confinement. In the custody of a woman, the

vigilance of the keepers was insensibly relaxed; and the captive had

accomplished his real escape, when he was discovered, brought back to

Constantinople, and loaded with a double chain. At length he found the

moment, and the means, of his deliverance. A boy, his domestic servant,

intoxicated the guards, and obtained in wax the impression of the keys.

By the diligence of his friends, a similar key, with a bundle of ropes,

was introduced into the prison, in the bottom of a hogshead. Andronicus

employed, with industry and courage, the instruments of his safety,

unlocked the doors, descended from the tower, concealed himself all day

among the bushes, and scaled in the night the garden-wall of the palace.

A boat was stationed for his reception: he visited his own house,

embraced his children, cast away his chain, mounted a fleet horse, and

directed his rapid course towards the banks of the Danube. At Anchialus

in Thrace, an intrepid friend supplied him with horses and money: he

passed the river, traversed with speed the desert of Moldavia and the

Carpathian hills, and had almost reached the town of Halicz, in the

Polish Russia, when he was intercepted by a party of Walachians, who

resolved to convey their important captive to Constantinople. His

presence of mind again extricated him from danger. Under the pretence of

sickness, he dismounted in the night, and was allowed to step aside from

the troop: he planted in the ground his long staff, clothed it with his

cap and upper garment; and, stealing into the wood, left a phantom to

amuse, for some time, the eyes of the Walachians. From Halicz he was

honorably conducted to Kiow, the residence of the great duke: the

subtle Greek soon obtained the esteem and confidence of Ieroslaus; his

character could assume the manners of every climate; and the Barbarians

applauded his strength and courage in the chase of the elks and bears

of the forest. In this northern region he deserved the forgiveness

of Manuel, who solicited the Russian prince to join his arms in the

invasion of Hungary. The influence of Andronicus achieved this important

service: his private treaty was signed with a promise of fidelity on one

side, and of oblivion on the other; and he marched, at the head of the

Russian cavalry, from the Borysthenes to the Danube. In his resentment

Manuel had ever sympathized with the martial and dissolute character of

his cousin; and his free pardon was sealed in the assault of Zemlin, in

which he was second, and second only, to the valor of the emperor.

No sooner was the exile restored to freedom and his country, than his

ambition revived, at first to his own, and at length to the public,

misfortune. A daughter of Manuel was a feeble bar to the succession of

the more deserving males of the Comnenian blood; her future marriage

with the prince of Hungary was repugnant to the hopes or prejudices of

the princes and nobles. But when an oath of allegiance was required to

the presumptive heir, Andronicus alone asserted the honor of the Roman

name, declined the unlawful engagement, and boldly protested against the

adoption of a stranger. His patriotism was offensive to the emperor, but

he spoke the sentiments of the people, and was removed from the royal

presence by an honorable banishment, a second command of the Cilician

frontier, with the absolute disposal of the revenues of Cyprus. In

this station the Armenians again exercised his courage and exposed his

negligence; and the same rebel, who baffled all his operations, was

unhorsed, and almost slain by the vigor of his lance. But Andronicus

soon discovered a more easy and pleasing conquest, the beautiful

Philippa, sister of the empress Maria, and daughter of Raymond of

Poitou, the Latin prince of Antioch. For her sake he deserted his

station, and wasted the summer in balls and tournaments: to his love

she sacrificed her innocence, her reputation, and the offer of an

advantageous marriage. But the resentment of Manuel for this domestic

affront interrupted his pleasures: Andronicus left the indiscreet

princess to weep and to repent; and, with a band of desperate

adventurers, undertook the pilgrimage of Jerusalem. His birth, his

martial renown, and professions of zeal, announced him as the champion

of the Cross: he soon captivated both the clergy and the king; and the

Greek prince was invested with the lordship of Berytus, on the coast of

Phnicia. In his neighborhood resided a young and handsome queen, of his

own nation and family, great-granddaughter of the emperor Alexis, and

widow of Baldwin the Third, king of Jerusalem. She visited and loved her

kinsman. Theodora was the third victim of his amorous seduction; and her

shame was more public and scandalous than that of her predecessors. The

emperor still thirsted for revenge; and his subjects and allies of the

Syrian frontier were repeatedly pressed to seize the person, and put out

the eyes, of the fugitive. In Palestine he was no longer safe; but the

tender Theodora revealed his danger, and accompanied his flight. The

queen of Jerusalem was exposed to the East, his obsequious concubine;

and two illegitimate children were the living monuments of her weakness.

Damascus was his first refuge; and, in the characters of the great

Noureddin and his servant Saladin, the superstitious Greek might learn

to revere the virtues of the Mussulmans. As the friend of Noureddin he

visited, most probably, Bagdad, and the courts of Persia; and, after

a long circuit round the Caspian Sea and the mountains of Georgia, he

finally settled among the Turks of Asia Minor, the hereditary enemies

of his country. The sultan of Colonia afforded a hospitable retreat to

Andronicus, his mistress, and his band of outlaws: the debt of gratitude

was paid by frequent inroads in the Roman province of Trebizond; and

he seldom returned without an ample harvest of spoil and of Christian

captives. In the story of his adventures, he was fond of comparing

himself to David, who escaped, by a long exile, the snares of the

wicked. But the royal prophet (he presumed to add) was content to lurk

on the borders of JudÊa, to slay an Amalekite, and to threaten, in his

miserable state, the life of the avaricious Nabal. The excursions of the

Comnenian prince had a wider range; and he had spread over the Eastern

world the glory of his name and religion. By a sentence of the Greek

church, the licentious rover had been separated from the faithful;

but even this excommunication may prove, that he never abjured the

profession of Christianity.

His vigilance had eluded or repelled the open and secret persecution

of the emperor; but he was at length insnared by the captivity of his

female companion. The governor of Trebizond succeeded in his attempt

to surprise the person of Theodora: the queen of Jerusalem and her two

children were sent to Constantinople, and their loss imbittered the

tedious solitude of banishment. The fugitive implored and obtained a

final pardon, with leave to throw himself at the feet of his sovereign,

who was satisfied with the submission of this haughty spirit. Prostrate

on the ground, he deplored with tears and groans the guilt of his past

rebellion; nor would he presume to arise, unless some faithful subject

would drag him to the foot of the throne, by an iron chain with which he

had secretly encircled his neck. This extraordinary penance excited the

wonder and pity of the assembly; his sins were forgiven by the church

and state; but the just suspicion of Manuel fixed his residence at a

distance from the court, at Oenoe, a town of Pontus, surrounded with

rich vineyards, and situate on the coast of the Euxine. The death of

Manuel, and the disorders of the minority, soon opened the fairest field

to his ambition. The emperor was a boy of twelve or fourteen years of

age, without vigor, or wisdom, or experience: his mother, the empress

Mary, abandoned her person and government to a favorite of the Comnenian

name; and his sister, another Mary, whose husband, an Italian, was

decorated with the title of CÊsar, excited a conspiracy, and at length

an insurrection, against her odious step-mother. The provinces were

forgotten, the capital was in flames, and a century of peace and order

was overthrown in the vice and weakness of a few months. A civil war was

kindled in Constantinople; the two factions fought a bloody battle in

the square of the palace, and the rebels sustained a regular siege in

the cathedral of St. Sophia. The patriarch labored with honest zeal to

heal the wounds of the republic, the most respectable patriots called

aloud for a guardian and avenger, and every tongue repeated the praise

of the talents and even the virtues of Andronicus. In his retirement,

he affected to revolve the solemn duties of his oath: "If the safety or

honor of the Imperial family be threatened, I will reveal and oppose

the mischief to the utmost of my power." His correspondence with the

patriarch and patricians was seasoned with apt quotations from the

Psalms of David and the epistles of St. Paul; and he patiently waited

till he was called to her deliverance by the voice of his country. In

his march from Oenoe to Constantinople, his slender train insensibly

swelled to a crowd and an army: his professions of religion and loyalty

were mistaken for the language of his heart; and the simplicity of a

foreign dress, which showed to advantage his majestic stature, displayed

a lively image of his poverty and exile. All opposition sunk before him;

he reached the straits of the Thracian Bosphorus; the Byzantine navy

sailed from the harbor to receive and transport the savior of the

empire: the torrent was loud and irresistible, and the insects who had

basked in the sunshine of royal favor disappeared at the blast of the

storm. It was the first care of Andronicus to occupy the palace, to

salute the emperor, to confine his mother, to punish her minister,

and to restore the public order and tranquillity. He then visited the

sepulchre of Manuel: the spectators were ordered to stand aloof, but as

he bowed in the attitude of prayer, they heard, or thought they heard, a

murmur of triumph or revenge: "I no longer fear thee, my old enemy, who

hast driven me a vagabond to every climate of the earth. Thou art safety

deposited under a seven-fold dome, from whence thou canst never arise

till the signal of the last trumpet. It is now my turn, and speedily

will I trample on thy ashes and thy posterity." From his subsequent

tyranny we may impute such feelings to the man and the moment; but it

is not extremely probable that he gave an articulate sound to his secret

thoughts. In the first months of his administration, his designs were

veiled by a fair semblance of hypocrisy, which could delude only the

eyes of the multitude; the coronation of Alexius was performed with due

solemnity, and his perfidious guardian, holding in his hands the body

and blood of Christ, most fervently declared that he lived, and was

ready to die, for the service of his beloved pupil. But his numerous

adherents were instructed to maintain, that the sinking empire must

perish in the hands of a child, that the Romans could only be saved by a

veteran prince, bold in arms, skilful in policy, and taught to reign by

the long experience of fortune and mankind; and that it was the duty of

every citizen to force the reluctant modesty of Andronicus to undertake

the burden of the public care. The young emperor was himself constrained

to join his voice to the general acclamation, and to solicit the

association of a colleague, who instantly degraded him from the supreme

rank, secluded his person, and verified the rash declaration of the

patriarch, that Alexius might be considered as dead, so soon as he was

committed to the custody of his guardian. But his death was preceded

by the imprisonment and execution of his mother. After blackening her

reputation, and inflaming against her the passions of the multitude, the

tyrant accused and tried the empress for a treasonable correspondence

with the king of Hungary. His own son, a youth of honor and humanity,

avowed his abhorrence of this flagitious act, and three of the judges

had the merit of preferring their conscience to their safety: but the

obsequious tribunal, without requiring any reproof, or hearing any

defence, condemned the widow of Manuel; and her unfortunate son

subscribed the sentence of her death. Maria was strangled, her corpse

was buried in the sea, and her memory was wounded by the insult most

offensive to female vanity, a false and ugly representation of her

beauteous form. The fate of her son was not long deferred: he was

strangled with a bowstring; and the tyrant, insensible to pity or

remorse, after surveying the body of the innocent youth, struck it

rudely with his foot: "Thy father," he cried, "was a _knave_, thy mother

a _whore_, and thyself a _fool_!"

The Roman sceptre, the reward of his crimes, was held by Andronicus

about three years and a half as the guardian or sovereign of the empire.

His government exhibited a singular contrast of vice and virtue. When

he listened to his passions, he was the scourge; when he consulted his

reason, the father, of his people. In the exercise of private justice,

he was equitable and rigorous: a shameful and pernicious venality

was abolished, and the offices were filled with the most deserving

candidates, by a prince who had sense to choose, and severity to punish.

He prohibited the inhuman practice of pillaging the goods and persons of

shipwrecked mariners; the provinces, so long the objects of oppression

or neglect, revived in prosperity and plenty; and millions applauded the

distant blessings of his reign, while he was cursed by the witnesses of

his daily cruelties. The ancient proverb, That bloodthirsty is the man

who returns from banishment to power, had been applied, with too much

truth, to 'Marius and Tiberius; and was now verified for the third time

in the life of Andronicus. His memory was stored with a black list

of the enemies and rivals, who had traduced his merit, opposed his

greatness, or insulted his misfortunes; and the only comfort of

his exile was the sacred hope and promise of revenge. The necessary

extinction of the young emperor and his mother imposed the fatal

obligation of extirpating the friends, who hated, and might punish, the

assassin; and the repetition of murder rendered him less willing, and

less able, to forgive. A horrid narrative of the victims whom he

sacrificed by poison or the sword, by the sea or the flames, would be

less expressive of his cruelty than the appellation of the halcyon days,

which was applied to a rare and bloodless week of repose: the tyrant

strove to transfer, on the laws and the judges, some portion of his

guilt; but the mask was fallen, and his subjects could no longer mistake

the true author of their calamities. The noblest of the Greeks,

more especially those who, by descent or alliance, might dispute the

Comnenian inheritance, escaped from the monster's den: Nice and Prusa,

Sicily or Cyprus, were their places of refuge; and as their flight was

already criminal, they aggravated their offence by an open revolt, and

the Imperial title. Yet Andronicus resisted the daggers and swords of

his most formidable enemies: Nice and Prusa were reduced and chastised:

the Sicilians were content with the sack of Thessalonica; and the

distance of Cyprus was not more propitious to the rebel than to the

tyrant. His throne was subverted by a rival without merit, and a people

without arms. Isaac Angelus, a descendant in the female line from the

great Alexius, was marked as a victim by the prudence or superstition

of the emperor. In a moment of despair, Angelus defended his life and

liberty, slew the executioner, and fled to the church of St. Sophia. The

sanctuary was insensibly filled with a curious and mournful crowd, who,

in his fate, prognosticated their own. But their lamentations were soon

turned to curses, and their curses to threats: they dared to ask, "Why

do we fear? why do we obey? We are many, and he is one: our patience is

the only bond of our slavery." With the dawn of day the city burst into

a general sedition, the prisons were thrown open, the coldest and most

servile were roused to the defence of their country, and Isaac, the

second of the name, was raised from the sanctuary to the throne.

Unconscious of his danger, the tyrant was absent; withdrawn from the

toils of state, in the delicious islands of the Propontis. He had

contracted an indecent marriage with Alice, or Agnes, daughter of Lewis

the Seventh, of France, and relict of the unfortunate Alexius; and his

society, more suitable to his temper than to his age, was composed of

a young wife and a favorite concubine. On the first alarm, he rushed

to Constantinople, impatient for the blood of the guilty; but he was

astonished by the silence of the palace, the tumult of the city, and the

general desertion of mankind. Andronicus proclaimed a free pardon to his

subjects; they neither desired, nor would grant, forgiveness; he offered

to resign the crown to his son Manuel; but the virtues of the son could

not expiate his father's crimes. The sea was still open for his retreat;

but the news of the revolution had flown along the coast; when fear had

ceased, obedience was no more: the Imperial galley was pursued and taken

by an armed brigantine; and the tyrant was dragged to the presence of

Isaac Angelus, loaded with fetters, and a long chain round his neck. His

eloquence, and the tears of his female companions, pleaded in vain for

his life; but, instead of the decencies of a legal execution, the new

monarch abandoned the criminal to the numerous sufferers, whom he had

deprived of a father, a husband, or a friend. His teeth and hair, an eye

and a hand, were torn from him, as a poor compensation for their loss:

and a short respite was allowed, that he might feel the bitterness

of death. Astride on a camel, without any danger of a rescue, he was

carried through the city, and the basest of the populace rejoiced to

trample on the fallen majesty of their prince. After a thousand blows

and outrages, Andronicus was hung by the feet, between two pillars, that

supported the statues of a wolf and an a sow; and every hand that could

reach the public enemy, inflicted on his body some mark of ingenious or

brutal cruelty, till two friendly or furious Italians, plunging their

swords into his body, released him from all human punishment. In this

long and painful agony, "Lord, have mercy upon me!" and "Why will you

bruise a broken reed?" were the only words that escaped from his mouth.

Our hatred for the tyrant is lost in pity for the man; nor can we blame

his pusillanimous resignation, since a Greek Christian was no longer

master of his life.

I have been tempted to expatiate on the extraordinary character and

adventures of Andronicus; but I shall here terminate the series of the

Greek emperors since the time of Heraclius. The branches that sprang

from the Comnenian trunk had insensibly withered; and the male line

was continued only in the posterity of Andronicus himself, who, in the

public confusion, usurped the sovereignty of Trebizond, so obscure in

history, and so famous in romance. A private citizen of Philadelphia,

Constantine Angelus, had emerged to wealth and honors, by his

marriage with a daughter of the emperor Alexius. His son Andronicus

is conspicuous only by his cowardice. His grandson Isaac punished and

succeeded the tyrant; but he was dethroned by his own vices, and the

ambition of his brother; and their discord introduced the Latins to the

conquest of Constantinople, the first great period in the fall of the

Eastern empire.

History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire — Volume 4(#893) · 第 48 / 49 段