Part 12 – The last Doukid Emperor, or Three Peaces (1088 to 1093)
Just as there are very few truly decisive battles, there are very few years that mark the end of an era of history. 1066 was such a year for the English. However, in the broader history of Christendom the Norman conquest was a peripheral event compared to outcome of the three great treaties of 1088.
Within the Theme of Wallachia 1088 started with an event that is not even a footnote in the broader spread of history. Prince Edward’s wife Aikaterina was due to give birth to their third child (the first two being Aethelwulf and Ulf). She was in sound health and had experienced no complications from her previous pregnancies. This time the labour was long and difficult. Aikaterina bled and bled, and Edward lost both her and his unborn child.
For a man with a noble and romantic heart, it seemed surprising that Edward remarried within the year. His new bride was Kyratsa Kourtikes, sister of Konstantinos, Prince of Achaia. This was a match he arranged with his head, not his heart, yet Kyratsa re-energised the court, sweeping away the sombreness that Aikaterina’s death had caused. He had made a better choice than he knew.
1088 also saw change at the Imperial court in Constantinople. Constantine XI died and was succeeded by his younger brother Andronikos. This was not good news for Edward, as Andronikos had previously been Count of Dyrrachion, which bordered Epirus. They had not been good neighbours, and (following a tirade of insults from Andronikos aimed at “foreign barbarians”) had sworn each other dead. This behaviour was a reflection of Andronikos’ unstable personality, angry and reckless one moment, and shy and sorrowful the next. Coupled with his rather modest talents as a ruler we can see that the blood of the Doukids was getting weaker with each ruler.
By 1088 the war against the Seljuks had been raging for 19 years and had bled the Empire white. While the Doukid Emperors had won battles against the Turks, these had not led to any strategic advantage. The Seljuks had just scattered, regrouped and returned to the fray. The Empire’s Anatolian heartland had been lost, and the Turks’ livestock grazed across the wasted ruins of what had once been fertile estates. Now the Seljuks had crossed to Europe and were outside the walls of Constantinople itself. Perhaps it was wisdom (rather than cowardice) that led Emperor Andronikos to seek a negotiated peace with the Seljuk Sultan.
Peace with honour would have been gratefully accepted by the Greek nobles as they awaited the negotiations. After all the Empire had seen off barbarians before. Surely the Sultan could be persuaded to leave Anatolia for a suitably large amount of gold. Finding the gold would be painful, but as this pain would be largely borne by the peasants and merchants it did not worry the nobility unduly.
The negotiations took place in the space between the great walls of Constantinople and the massed ranks of the Turkish host. Other than the Emperor and the Sultan only a handful of attendants were present. Emperor Andronikos offered his treasure, and a regular tribute once the Turks had left the Empire. The Sultan received this offer with a wry smile and replied that:
“Only one of us is in a position to dictate the terms of a peace settlement. I will keep what I have won in Anatolia, and you will give me Constantinople that I might have somewhere to rest when travelling this part of my domains. I will let you keep your crown, and will give you a night and a day to prepare your departure. Those are the terms of the agreement.”
Emperor Andronikos agreed and fled with his household to the island of Lesbos. He had just set about plotting how to hold together the European remnants of the Empire when the envoys of Nasr Ibn Marwan, the Emir of Edessa. The Emir’s forces had been far less successful than those of the Seljuks, but were far more powerful than anything Andronikos could call up to oppose them. They were also only a week’s sailing behind the emissaries. This time Andronikos could not even offer tribute, as the Turks had already taken everything from him. His will was broken and he collapsed to the floor as the shell of a man.
It was this remnant of an inferior emperor who met Emir Nasr of Edessa a week later. In exchange for a pension and a country estate Andronikos renounced the throne and named the Emir his successor. Nasr Ibn Marwan had become the first Muslim Emperor, heir to Augustus and Constantine. Nasr’s Empire was now split between his old stronghold of Syria and the remaining Imperial possessions in Europe. Had the Second Rome fallen completely, or was it being reborn?
Emperor Nasr certainly worked hard to consolidate his rule, touring his new European possessions and forcing the Christian princes of the Empire to acknowledge his supremacy. The one theme he did not visit was Wallachia. As you will recall, Prince Edward had refused to acknowledge the Doukid emperors since 1085, and did not plan to bow before a Muslim ruler.
In fact Edward was prepared to go further than simply not acknowledging Nasr as Emperor. In 1091 Edward declared war on Emperor Nasr. This might have seemed a futile attempt, as the resources available to the Emperor were far greater than those available to Edward. However, we must consider that Nasr was liked by very few in the core territories of the Empire, drawing most of his support from his old Syrian heartlands. I expect that Edward hoped the Greeks would rise against the infidel and flock to his banner. We should also consider Edward’s character. If he had been born a Frank they would have ranked him as the epitome of chivalric virtue. He was brave, romantic, and pious (reasonably so anyway). An all or nothing attempt to defeat a superior force of infidels and save the Empire and the Orthodox Church. This was what he had been born for.
Edward’s led a successful campaign, targeting counties held by the Emperor or his closest supporters. He marched first into the Empire’s Serbian territories, and then turned south for Thessalonike. Meanwhile, Earl Eadgar Atheling commanded a separate force that occupied Dyrrachion (on the Adriatic coast). However, none of the expected support for the Orthodox population materialised, and Edward soon found his forces being ground down in a series of punishing battles around Thessalonike. Edward won his battles, but was losing the war as more enemy contingents arrived from Syria.
Once more we see a face to face discussion between a Muslim victor and a weaker Christian ruler. This time the scene is set outside the walls of Thessalonike in the summer of 1092. Edward forced to swallow his pride and make a peace offer to Emperor Nasr. However, his bargaining position was stronger than Emperor Andronikos’ had been on Lesbos. Edward still had an unbeaten army in the field, and (although he did not know this) Nasr was very worried that the Greek rebellions might commence if the war were not ended very quickly.
Edward offered to pay homage to the Emperor and renounce (on behalf of both himself and his heirs) his claim to the Imperial throne. This was a huge sacrifice, and one that greatly diminished his prestige in the eyes of the outside world. However, Edward had devised a more subtle plan to resist the Emperor and proceeded to put it into effect as soon as the peace was signed. What did Edward gain from the peace? Well, he retained all of the land and vassals he had at the start of the war and kept the most important of his gains during the war. These were the new earldoms of Belgrade, Dyrrachion, and Thessalonike (where so much blood had been spilt resisting the Emperor). These gain left him significantly stronger and wealthier than when he had declared war.
By this point the direction of Nasr’s Roman Empire was becoming clear. While no organised repression of the Orthodox Church (and its steadfast believers) would occur, every preference would be given to Muslims in general and converts in particular. This gentle pressure produced a rash of conversions to Islam amongst the higher ranks of the Greek nobility. By the end of 1093 only three on the 13 nobles of princely rank within Nasr’s domain were Christian. Only the princes of the Aegean (who was soon to convert), Athens and Wallachia retained their faith, and Edward was by far the most powerful of these. Even more insidious was the conversion of the senior clergy. This saw all of the temporal bishoprics of the Empire (including the Archbishopric of Dyrrachion) being held by Greek Muslims.
The Empire had had its heart cut out as Constantinople had fallen to the Turks, and an Arab Muslim sat on the throne as supposed protector of the Church. Edward’s plan was simple, but subtle. He would build up an empire within the Empire. Thessalonike would be transformed into the centre of Greek cultural and religious activity. A capital for the Greeks under Muslim rule. While Thessalonike helped keep the flame of culture burning, Edward would work to expand his temporal power. This would be done under the guise of loyally serving the Emperor, and importantly would not break Edwards oath of fealty to the Emperor. Edward would work to make himself the foremost Greek Prince and would bide his time.
Greece would be like a bulb in winter. Hiding under the dark earth and waiting for Spring.