Revival of the Byzantine Empire
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General_BT: The Kingdom of Jerusalem got crushed by Azerbaijan, but a French expedition managed to recapture the coastal provinces running from Antioch to Jaffa.
Enewald: The what?
Dimmimar: Perhaps. But if anything, Byzantium is actually growing stronger with every conquest, so long as the emperor's vassals stay loyal. Keep in mind, the empire was relatively tiny at the start of Isaac's reign, and hasn't even reached the empire's pre-Manzikert boundaries.
The aristocracy, peasantry, and army may have forgotten Isaac Batatzes’s childhood promise over the course of his string of military successes, but he had not. When the emperor was fourteen and still in his minority, Isaac III had given the first of his now-common pledges to restore the empire of Basil II. He had nearly fulfilled that promise upon reclaiming Asia Minor from the Seljuk Turks, but the Second Bulgarian Empire remained yet to be defeated. The emperor’s yearning to bring the Bulgarian kingdom under the Byzantine yoke once more had never abated over the years. His father’s expedient nominal vassalage to the Bulgarian czar all those years ago was considered an insult on the Batatzes family honor and demonstration of the danger an independent Bulgaria sitting astride Byzantine Europe could pose. Yet Isaac never felt that the empire was ready enough, nor his dynasty’s prestige great enough to make a bid for the Bulgarian lands, and innumerable other military adventures forced the emperor to focus his attention elsewhere.
But by 1220, the situation was different. There was no Seljuk sultanate to conquer, no crusade in Italy or war against an upstart Muslim power. With peace being maintained with the Ayyubids of Egypt, Syria, and Sicily, Isaac could finally direct his full attention to subduing the Bulgarians. For over a decade the emperor had formulated plans for the completion of his life-long goal. But starting in 1220, Isaac invested himself completely into the task, using the same energy that had sustained him since his childhood. Often, the emperor would barricade himself in his study from sunrise to sunset, planning and replanning every aspect of his ambition. Gathering veritable libraries full of intelligence data, economic information, and military figures that could rival modern planning efforts, Isaac spent almost two years developing his master strategy. By the summer of 1222, Isaac III was finally ready. From September to November, troops from all across the European themata and various pronoia estates began amassing along the frontiers of the Bulgarian kingdom until the armies of Byzantium dwarfed those assembled by the desperate czar Sava Asen. The czar’s attempts to negotiate treaties of friendship were rebuffed with the greatest rapidity, the emperor declaring that nothing short of total submission to the empire would be sufficient. Simply unable to meet such demands, Sava I resolved himself for war. On November 2, Isaac finally made well his threats and invaded.
The invasion plan was a three-pronged attack. The emperor took personal command of the main force marching north from Thessalonika, while a second army advanced from Epirus, and a third would defend Isaac’s right flank and the capital. For the responsibility of guarding Thrace from a sudden Bulgarian offensive, Isaac placed on his eldest son Alexios. Able to rely upon his son’s martial competence, the emperor advanced confidently toward Serdica. Unwilling to risk his smaller army in a direct confrontation with the imperial tagmata, Sava directed his army at Alexios. The heir to the throne engaged Sava in Thrace on December 2, delivering a humiliating defeat that sent the Bulgarians fleeing. Further Bulgarian contingents were crushed outside Adrianople on December 22, and news of the fall of Serdica to Isaac the day after Christmas ended Sava’s hopes of seizing Constantinople. The czar’s defeats in Thrace proved too heavy to recover from. Isaac’s host marched unopposed through the Bulgarian countryside. Tyrnovo fell February 12, Dorostotum on March 15 to the third wing of Isaac’s invasion, and Naissus on the 21st. In total control of Sava’s personal demesne, Isaac forced the czar to surrender, abdicate the throne to Isaac, and swear allegiance to his new liege. The Bulgarian boyars followed suit immediately after. In a lightning-fast five month war, Isaac had crushed the Second Bulgarian Empire and brought it firmly back into the empire. Twenty-one years after he had made his promise to reclaim the empire of the Emperor Basil II, Isaac III Batatzes had at long last fulfilled his life’s ambition.
The subjugation of the Bulgarian Empire, while trumpeted within Byzantium itself, was regarded as something of a blemish from foreign perspectives. The international prestige and accolades Isaac had been lavished upon his victory over the Seljuks did not materialize. From Serbia, the reaffirmation of Byzantine dominance in the Balkans brought a terse and guarded response, and the Hungarians, mired in a war with Cuman raiders ravaging the kingdom’s interior, viewed the conquest with great suspicion. The Bulgarians themselves proved remarkable amiable to Byzantine overlordship. The boyar lords were allowed to keep and oversee their ancestral lands, and even Sava Asen retained his ducal titles. Submission to Constantinople, rather than an alien imposition, was hardly unendurable, and seen as facilitating a lessening of trade restrictions with the prospering Byzantine markets, access to the ever-dependable hyperpyron coinage, and protection under the umbrella of Byzantium’s now-massive legions. Whereas there was significant religious and ethnic violence in Anatolia and southern Italy, on top of ravaging diseases, Bulgaria escaped such depredations. Bulgaria would prove to be a stable, reliable province in Emperor Isaac’s new empire.
Enewald: The what?
Dimmimar: Perhaps. But if anything, Byzantium is actually growing stronger with every conquest, so long as the emperor's vassals stay loyal. Keep in mind, the empire was relatively tiny at the start of Isaac's reign, and hasn't even reached the empire's pre-Manzikert boundaries.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Chapter VI: A Childhood Promise
The aristocracy, peasantry, and army may have forgotten Isaac Batatzes’s childhood promise over the course of his string of military successes, but he had not. When the emperor was fourteen and still in his minority, Isaac III had given the first of his now-common pledges to restore the empire of Basil II. He had nearly fulfilled that promise upon reclaiming Asia Minor from the Seljuk Turks, but the Second Bulgarian Empire remained yet to be defeated. The emperor’s yearning to bring the Bulgarian kingdom under the Byzantine yoke once more had never abated over the years. His father’s expedient nominal vassalage to the Bulgarian czar all those years ago was considered an insult on the Batatzes family honor and demonstration of the danger an independent Bulgaria sitting astride Byzantine Europe could pose. Yet Isaac never felt that the empire was ready enough, nor his dynasty’s prestige great enough to make a bid for the Bulgarian lands, and innumerable other military adventures forced the emperor to focus his attention elsewhere.
But by 1220, the situation was different. There was no Seljuk sultanate to conquer, no crusade in Italy or war against an upstart Muslim power. With peace being maintained with the Ayyubids of Egypt, Syria, and Sicily, Isaac could finally direct his full attention to subduing the Bulgarians. For over a decade the emperor had formulated plans for the completion of his life-long goal. But starting in 1220, Isaac invested himself completely into the task, using the same energy that had sustained him since his childhood. Often, the emperor would barricade himself in his study from sunrise to sunset, planning and replanning every aspect of his ambition. Gathering veritable libraries full of intelligence data, economic information, and military figures that could rival modern planning efforts, Isaac spent almost two years developing his master strategy. By the summer of 1222, Isaac III was finally ready. From September to November, troops from all across the European themata and various pronoia estates began amassing along the frontiers of the Bulgarian kingdom until the armies of Byzantium dwarfed those assembled by the desperate czar Sava Asen. The czar’s attempts to negotiate treaties of friendship were rebuffed with the greatest rapidity, the emperor declaring that nothing short of total submission to the empire would be sufficient. Simply unable to meet such demands, Sava I resolved himself for war. On November 2, Isaac finally made well his threats and invaded.
The invasion plan was a three-pronged attack. The emperor took personal command of the main force marching north from Thessalonika, while a second army advanced from Epirus, and a third would defend Isaac’s right flank and the capital. For the responsibility of guarding Thrace from a sudden Bulgarian offensive, Isaac placed on his eldest son Alexios. Able to rely upon his son’s martial competence, the emperor advanced confidently toward Serdica. Unwilling to risk his smaller army in a direct confrontation with the imperial tagmata, Sava directed his army at Alexios. The heir to the throne engaged Sava in Thrace on December 2, delivering a humiliating defeat that sent the Bulgarians fleeing. Further Bulgarian contingents were crushed outside Adrianople on December 22, and news of the fall of Serdica to Isaac the day after Christmas ended Sava’s hopes of seizing Constantinople. The czar’s defeats in Thrace proved too heavy to recover from. Isaac’s host marched unopposed through the Bulgarian countryside. Tyrnovo fell February 12, Dorostotum on March 15 to the third wing of Isaac’s invasion, and Naissus on the 21st. In total control of Sava’s personal demesne, Isaac forced the czar to surrender, abdicate the throne to Isaac, and swear allegiance to his new liege. The Bulgarian boyars followed suit immediately after. In a lightning-fast five month war, Isaac had crushed the Second Bulgarian Empire and brought it firmly back into the empire. Twenty-one years after he had made his promise to reclaim the empire of the Emperor Basil II, Isaac III Batatzes had at long last fulfilled his life’s ambition.
The subjugation of the Bulgarian Empire, while trumpeted within Byzantium itself, was regarded as something of a blemish from foreign perspectives. The international prestige and accolades Isaac had been lavished upon his victory over the Seljuks did not materialize. From Serbia, the reaffirmation of Byzantine dominance in the Balkans brought a terse and guarded response, and the Hungarians, mired in a war with Cuman raiders ravaging the kingdom’s interior, viewed the conquest with great suspicion. The Bulgarians themselves proved remarkable amiable to Byzantine overlordship. The boyar lords were allowed to keep and oversee their ancestral lands, and even Sava Asen retained his ducal titles. Submission to Constantinople, rather than an alien imposition, was hardly unendurable, and seen as facilitating a lessening of trade restrictions with the prospering Byzantine markets, access to the ever-dependable hyperpyron coinage, and protection under the umbrella of Byzantium’s now-massive legions. Whereas there was significant religious and ethnic violence in Anatolia and southern Italy, on top of ravaging diseases, Bulgaria escaped such depredations. Bulgaria would prove to be a stable, reliable province in Emperor Isaac’s new empire.
Bulgaria was never really stable... it is a miracle how it is possible that there are bulgarians still living today, knowing that balkans are what they are... o
But did you lose prestige or gain much more prestige from this war?
o But did you lose prestige or gain much more prestige from this war?
Enewald: Yes, originally I lost a great deal of prestige from the war (it took about 2000 to grab the king title), but a great deal of it was gained back from the victory, as well as the monthly prestige increases from titles and vassals.
For the moment, I'll stay silent on the issue of Bulgarian survival.
After Isaac’s final victory over the Bulgarian Empire in 1223, the emperor at last found himself without pressing external issues to address or life-long promises to complete for the first time since the end of his minority two decades earlier. Having expanded the empire greatly in both Asia and Europe, Isaac at last, much to the astonishment of those closest to him, took a break. Where years before he had spent days on end working tirelessly, Isaac took something of a vacation, retreating into the Blachernae Palace with Antoinette and his children, occasionally making appearances at the Hippodrome or his birthplace to the north, looking quite modest and humble for a man with such a military reputation and adored by the masses.
Having spent so much of his time away on campaigns, Isaac had developed a superbly capable civil administration in Constantinople to oversee the day-to-day affairs of state and even rendering judgment on pressing foreign and domestic issues that could not be postponed to notify the far-off emperor. For the most part, Isaac tolerated the continued functioning of this pseudo-bureaucracy, as court intrigues and the tedious operation of the imperial administration held little appeal to the warrior-emperor. However, the integration of Seljuk and Azerbaijani Asia Minor had forced Byzantium to rely on significant numbers of Muslim Turks to best oversee running the Turkish provinces. To Isaac, who had perhaps single-handedly killed more Turks than any contemporary, this was something he could not abide by. Constantinople soon became a dangerous place for Turks. Turkish courtiers began dropping dead with alarming rapidity. Children would suddenly contract deadly illnesses, or be seriously injured while playing. One Turk, Bayezid Alyates, who had served in the Italian campaign with the distinction of sacking several captured villages, was found upside down in a palace cistern. Another was crushed by a falling chandelier, another at the bottom of a long, slippery flight of stairs. In 1227, while on a short campaign to capture the northern half of the Crimean peninsula, the emperor received word from the distant frontier of Kartili, where his bastard son Leo renounced his illegitimate status and demanded full inclusion in the succession. Before Isaac could even set foot on a boat, news arrived that his bastard son had suffered a tragic shaving accident. As before, no evidence suggested the emperor’s role in anything.
On March 17, 1229, Rome once again fell to the Abbasid caliphate. Having the year before persuaded the Duke of Spoleto to accept Byzantine suzerainty, Isaac saw this as a golden opportunity to obtain the crowning achievement which he had been deprived of during his Italian campaign. Not wanting Venice to once again snatch the glory right out from under him, the emperor quickly assembled a large force and sailed to Taranto, there rendezvousing with several thousand additional thematakoi. From Taranto, he marched up the spine of the peninsula to Capua. Along with a contingent from Naples, Isaac proceeded to advance on Rome itself. With the heathens’ attention focused on the Venetian counterattack to the north, the city remained vulnerable. On October 29, 1229, the Muslim garrison of the besieged city was overwhelmed by the Roman populace, who immediately threw open the gates for Isaac. Not wishing to take any chances, Isaac ordered his army forward in battle formation. Bewildered Romans watched as siege towers rumbled toward the walls and Byzantine soldiers scaled up on ladders while cavalry surged through the open gates. Only hours later was Isaac at last convinced that the city was truly his. In a wonderful spectacle, Isaac paraded through Rome with his army – along a randomly selected route, as the historic triumphal path eluded the Byzantine commanders – in the first triumph in over 800 years. While the historical accuracy was debatable, the message was clear: Rome, the Eternal City, belonged to Byzantium once more.
While certainly neither as strategically or economically important an acquisition as virtually all Isaac’s prior conquests, the capture of Rome was one of the greatest political and psychological victories the Byzantine emperor would aim for, rivaled perhaps only by a simultaneous destruction of Mecca and Baghdad of Biblical proportions. While to the Turks and Arabs Rome held little significance, it was the Western world’s heart. Losing it to the Muslim invaders – repeatedly – was bad enough, if only a temporary fact. For Rome to fall to Byzantium was another matter entirely, a devastating blow to the Latin Church from which it may never be able to recover; for either the Pope would need a new home to rule from, or become the emperor’s puppet. The fall of Rome to Byzantium also signaled to the whole of Christendom that the empire’s waning days of the past century were at an end, and a renewed empire of Justinian was not out of the realm of possibility.
Determined to hold onto his prize, Emperor Isaac III spent the winter in Rome, seeing personally to the imposition of an imperial administration. All Catholic churches and the Papal estates were left untouched, the bloody forced conversions of the many other provinces was not mandated, and the city and its surrounding countryside were excluded from the thema obligations of elsewhere in the empire, though he did invest heavily in new fortifications and defensive arrangements. When Isaac was not busy laying the foundation to Rome’s imperial future, he occupied himself with preparations for a military campaign to drive the Ayyubid presence from Italy. The emperor hoped that taking the Muslim strongholds in the “toe” of the peninsula and the island of Sicily would permanently end any possibility of a Norman resurgence and provide Byzantium with a base of naval operations from which the empire could protect Rome and exert its influence deeper into the western Mediterranean. Ragusa’s acceptance of Byzantine suzerainty in June 1230 only reinforced this belief, as piracy from the Adriatic had decreased markedly. On August 6, 1231, Isaac marched at the head of an army twenty-thousand strong, dwarfing the puny levies raised by the Muslim overlords of southwestern Italy. The Ayyubid presence evaporated. By the end of the month, Isaac had stormed Messina. The rest of Sicily, however, was split between the crusaders of France and Venice.
Having been away from Constantinople for over three years, Isaac was eager to return, lest his reign were to be cut short by the machinations of power-hungry courtiers and nobles. However, the emperor lingered a while in Greece, where news reached him in June 1233 that a smallpox epidemic had broken out in the capital. Not wishing to put himself in unnecessary danger, Isaac chose to avoid Constantinople and proceeded east. Technically, the empire and Ayyubid kingdom were still at war, though neither side had shown any inclination to cross their Levantine border. The emperor decided to break the unofficial truce in November of that year, marching toward Edessa by way of Azerbaijan. With him came the remarkable Italian general Rinaldo Crivelli, a sixty-four year old crusader. Crivelli was the true leader of the expedition, lumbering through the unsuitable terrain and taking the substantial fortress of Nisibin by siege in late February 1234 before continuing on to Edessa itself. At Bira, Crivelli crushed the Ayyubid relief army on August 19, sending it fleeing in a disorganized mob. Finally, on November 28, Edessa surrendered to the Byzantine armies. Fearing the loss of all his Syrian possessions, the Sultan Dawlat road north with his army, meeting the emperor at Anitab on March 15 1235. The Muslim army was mowed down by volley after volley of the imperial legions’ improved crossbows, nearly killing the sultan in the ensuing rout. Though eager to follow through with his windfall, the emperor was forced to come to terms with Dawlat. News had arrived in mid-April that the comes of Kartili had come under attack by the Shah Mustafa of Khwarizmian, who had a decade earlier crossed the Caspian Sea from his Persian kingdom and carved out a substantial empire north of the Caucuses.
Determined to prevent the rise of another powerful Muslim state on Byzantium’s eastern flank and to preserve all his hard-won territory, Isaac hurriedly concluded a peace with the Sultan Dawlat and marched with his army north to the Caucus Mountains. Mustafa Shah had done little in the intervening months to take advantage of the poor Byzantine defenses around Kartili, and the emperor hoped that a repeat of the final war with Azerbaijan could be enacted. In late June, the first Khwarizmian attacks were beaten back across the mountain frontiers. For the next six months, neither side made a move, the terrain too rugged for either Isaac or Mustafa to risk a crossing. Finally, another Khwarizmian incursion was made in December. Isaac, expecting that the winter conditions precluded any serious invasion, was taken off-guard. Led by the Shah himself, thirteen thousand Persian and Cuman troops attacked the comes Leo of Chaldea and his ten thousand on December 13. Despite another 5000 Byzantine reinforcements in the morning hours, Mustafa Shah’s forces quickly overwhelmed Leo’s forces, driving him back with heavy casualties.
Enraged by the defeat, Isaac gathered all the forces he could and prepared for the defense of Tao, the Persians’ next target. On February 1, 1236, the two monarchs faced off at the Battle of Tao. Though enjoying numerical superiority and bolstered by a professional core of imperial thematakoi, the Byzantine force was badly mauled by the ferocious Persian assaults, the emperor barely escaping the battle with his life and only half the army he had arrived with. Having suffered his first serious defeat in the thirty years he had ruled, the emperor was put in a precarious situation. The army at his disposal in the east was after Tao far too small and demoralized to effectively resist the Persian Shah’s continued advances. Put to offer terms of peace would be admitting defeat, and would put an end to Isaac’s string of military triumphs. After many days of agonizing consideration, Isaac chose to swallow his pride and offer Mustafa a peace offering. The Persian despot would keep Kartili and receive a substantial tribute in gold. Either letting his greed get the better of him, or humbled by just how many soldiers the empire could raise with the gold being offered, Mustafa accepted. For the first time since the Batatzes family had taken power, the empire had lost a war.
For the moment, I'll stay silent on the issue of Bulgarian survival.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Chapter VII: The Road to the Eternal City
After Isaac’s final victory over the Bulgarian Empire in 1223, the emperor at last found himself without pressing external issues to address or life-long promises to complete for the first time since the end of his minority two decades earlier. Having expanded the empire greatly in both Asia and Europe, Isaac at last, much to the astonishment of those closest to him, took a break. Where years before he had spent days on end working tirelessly, Isaac took something of a vacation, retreating into the Blachernae Palace with Antoinette and his children, occasionally making appearances at the Hippodrome or his birthplace to the north, looking quite modest and humble for a man with such a military reputation and adored by the masses.
Having spent so much of his time away on campaigns, Isaac had developed a superbly capable civil administration in Constantinople to oversee the day-to-day affairs of state and even rendering judgment on pressing foreign and domestic issues that could not be postponed to notify the far-off emperor. For the most part, Isaac tolerated the continued functioning of this pseudo-bureaucracy, as court intrigues and the tedious operation of the imperial administration held little appeal to the warrior-emperor. However, the integration of Seljuk and Azerbaijani Asia Minor had forced Byzantium to rely on significant numbers of Muslim Turks to best oversee running the Turkish provinces. To Isaac, who had perhaps single-handedly killed more Turks than any contemporary, this was something he could not abide by. Constantinople soon became a dangerous place for Turks. Turkish courtiers began dropping dead with alarming rapidity. Children would suddenly contract deadly illnesses, or be seriously injured while playing. One Turk, Bayezid Alyates, who had served in the Italian campaign with the distinction of sacking several captured villages, was found upside down in a palace cistern. Another was crushed by a falling chandelier, another at the bottom of a long, slippery flight of stairs. In 1227, while on a short campaign to capture the northern half of the Crimean peninsula, the emperor received word from the distant frontier of Kartili, where his bastard son Leo renounced his illegitimate status and demanded full inclusion in the succession. Before Isaac could even set foot on a boat, news arrived that his bastard son had suffered a tragic shaving accident. As before, no evidence suggested the emperor’s role in anything.
On March 17, 1229, Rome once again fell to the Abbasid caliphate. Having the year before persuaded the Duke of Spoleto to accept Byzantine suzerainty, Isaac saw this as a golden opportunity to obtain the crowning achievement which he had been deprived of during his Italian campaign. Not wanting Venice to once again snatch the glory right out from under him, the emperor quickly assembled a large force and sailed to Taranto, there rendezvousing with several thousand additional thematakoi. From Taranto, he marched up the spine of the peninsula to Capua. Along with a contingent from Naples, Isaac proceeded to advance on Rome itself. With the heathens’ attention focused on the Venetian counterattack to the north, the city remained vulnerable. On October 29, 1229, the Muslim garrison of the besieged city was overwhelmed by the Roman populace, who immediately threw open the gates for Isaac. Not wishing to take any chances, Isaac ordered his army forward in battle formation. Bewildered Romans watched as siege towers rumbled toward the walls and Byzantine soldiers scaled up on ladders while cavalry surged through the open gates. Only hours later was Isaac at last convinced that the city was truly his. In a wonderful spectacle, Isaac paraded through Rome with his army – along a randomly selected route, as the historic triumphal path eluded the Byzantine commanders – in the first triumph in over 800 years. While the historical accuracy was debatable, the message was clear: Rome, the Eternal City, belonged to Byzantium once more.
While certainly neither as strategically or economically important an acquisition as virtually all Isaac’s prior conquests, the capture of Rome was one of the greatest political and psychological victories the Byzantine emperor would aim for, rivaled perhaps only by a simultaneous destruction of Mecca and Baghdad of Biblical proportions. While to the Turks and Arabs Rome held little significance, it was the Western world’s heart. Losing it to the Muslim invaders – repeatedly – was bad enough, if only a temporary fact. For Rome to fall to Byzantium was another matter entirely, a devastating blow to the Latin Church from which it may never be able to recover; for either the Pope would need a new home to rule from, or become the emperor’s puppet. The fall of Rome to Byzantium also signaled to the whole of Christendom that the empire’s waning days of the past century were at an end, and a renewed empire of Justinian was not out of the realm of possibility.
Determined to hold onto his prize, Emperor Isaac III spent the winter in Rome, seeing personally to the imposition of an imperial administration. All Catholic churches and the Papal estates were left untouched, the bloody forced conversions of the many other provinces was not mandated, and the city and its surrounding countryside were excluded from the thema obligations of elsewhere in the empire, though he did invest heavily in new fortifications and defensive arrangements. When Isaac was not busy laying the foundation to Rome’s imperial future, he occupied himself with preparations for a military campaign to drive the Ayyubid presence from Italy. The emperor hoped that taking the Muslim strongholds in the “toe” of the peninsula and the island of Sicily would permanently end any possibility of a Norman resurgence and provide Byzantium with a base of naval operations from which the empire could protect Rome and exert its influence deeper into the western Mediterranean. Ragusa’s acceptance of Byzantine suzerainty in June 1230 only reinforced this belief, as piracy from the Adriatic had decreased markedly. On August 6, 1231, Isaac marched at the head of an army twenty-thousand strong, dwarfing the puny levies raised by the Muslim overlords of southwestern Italy. The Ayyubid presence evaporated. By the end of the month, Isaac had stormed Messina. The rest of Sicily, however, was split between the crusaders of France and Venice.
Having been away from Constantinople for over three years, Isaac was eager to return, lest his reign were to be cut short by the machinations of power-hungry courtiers and nobles. However, the emperor lingered a while in Greece, where news reached him in June 1233 that a smallpox epidemic had broken out in the capital. Not wishing to put himself in unnecessary danger, Isaac chose to avoid Constantinople and proceeded east. Technically, the empire and Ayyubid kingdom were still at war, though neither side had shown any inclination to cross their Levantine border. The emperor decided to break the unofficial truce in November of that year, marching toward Edessa by way of Azerbaijan. With him came the remarkable Italian general Rinaldo Crivelli, a sixty-four year old crusader. Crivelli was the true leader of the expedition, lumbering through the unsuitable terrain and taking the substantial fortress of Nisibin by siege in late February 1234 before continuing on to Edessa itself. At Bira, Crivelli crushed the Ayyubid relief army on August 19, sending it fleeing in a disorganized mob. Finally, on November 28, Edessa surrendered to the Byzantine armies. Fearing the loss of all his Syrian possessions, the Sultan Dawlat road north with his army, meeting the emperor at Anitab on March 15 1235. The Muslim army was mowed down by volley after volley of the imperial legions’ improved crossbows, nearly killing the sultan in the ensuing rout. Though eager to follow through with his windfall, the emperor was forced to come to terms with Dawlat. News had arrived in mid-April that the comes of Kartili had come under attack by the Shah Mustafa of Khwarizmian, who had a decade earlier crossed the Caspian Sea from his Persian kingdom and carved out a substantial empire north of the Caucuses.
Determined to prevent the rise of another powerful Muslim state on Byzantium’s eastern flank and to preserve all his hard-won territory, Isaac hurriedly concluded a peace with the Sultan Dawlat and marched with his army north to the Caucus Mountains. Mustafa Shah had done little in the intervening months to take advantage of the poor Byzantine defenses around Kartili, and the emperor hoped that a repeat of the final war with Azerbaijan could be enacted. In late June, the first Khwarizmian attacks were beaten back across the mountain frontiers. For the next six months, neither side made a move, the terrain too rugged for either Isaac or Mustafa to risk a crossing. Finally, another Khwarizmian incursion was made in December. Isaac, expecting that the winter conditions precluded any serious invasion, was taken off-guard. Led by the Shah himself, thirteen thousand Persian and Cuman troops attacked the comes Leo of Chaldea and his ten thousand on December 13. Despite another 5000 Byzantine reinforcements in the morning hours, Mustafa Shah’s forces quickly overwhelmed Leo’s forces, driving him back with heavy casualties.
Enraged by the defeat, Isaac gathered all the forces he could and prepared for the defense of Tao, the Persians’ next target. On February 1, 1236, the two monarchs faced off at the Battle of Tao. Though enjoying numerical superiority and bolstered by a professional core of imperial thematakoi, the Byzantine force was badly mauled by the ferocious Persian assaults, the emperor barely escaping the battle with his life and only half the army he had arrived with. Having suffered his first serious defeat in the thirty years he had ruled, the emperor was put in a precarious situation. The army at his disposal in the east was after Tao far too small and demoralized to effectively resist the Persian Shah’s continued advances. Put to offer terms of peace would be admitting defeat, and would put an end to Isaac’s string of military triumphs. After many days of agonizing consideration, Isaac chose to swallow his pride and offer Mustafa a peace offering. The Persian despot would keep Kartili and receive a substantial tribute in gold. Either letting his greed get the better of him, or humbled by just how many soldiers the empire could raise with the gold being offered, Mustafa accepted. For the first time since the Batatzes family had taken power, the empire had lost a war.
Hmm. But does he have any stable heirs to carry on his legacy? Keep up the good work, this is a really good AAR!
Enewald: As of yet, the Mongols have not made their appearence. Suspicious, don't you think? It's actually making me fairly nervous, since I've never played long enough to actually see a Mongol horde.
Dimmimar: Well, he had several sons. His bastard son (a rather incompetent one) David kicked the bucket earlier, and he has three legitimate sons: Alexios, Duke of Thrace, Thomas, Duke of Campania, and... I can't remember the other one.
In 1236, Isaac finally returned to Constantinople after his seven-year absence. Despite the celebrations thrown on the occasion of the emperor’s return after years of successful campaigning in Italy and Syria, Isaac showed little enthusiasm, his spirits dampened by his clear defeat against the Khwarizmian kingdom. Worse still, Antoinette’s death in 1233 during the height of the smallpox epidemic deprived Isaac of his most reliable pillar of emotional support. Guilt-ridden over his losses in the Caucuses, the emperor retreated into the imperial palace, taking what solace he could in scholarly pursuits even as the empire continued to prosper around him. The irony of Isaac’s veritable hermitage was not lost on many members of the imperial court, who took it upon themselves to see to the management of the imperial edifice. While still physically and mentally capable, Isaac was trapped in a self-destructive state, and as time passed, many in Constantinople began to wonder if the emperor was still even alive at all.
A year and a half after the emperor’s disappearance, events in the outside world finally forced Isaac to come to grips with his defeat and reassume his responsibility as sovereign of the Byzantine state. In Italy, the German king’s power was rapidly crumbling. In early 1237, Milan broke free, followed several months later by the Republic of Tuscany. Though of little strategic or political importance, the Tuscan republic possessed large tracts of land north of Byzantine Rome. One of Isaac’s main worries during his brief stay in the city was that a Latin coalition might use Tuscany as a base of operations from which to reclaim the Eternal City. It would be a simple matter to raise a sufficient military expedition and secure Tuscany for Byzantium. The imperial court, seeing this as a golden opportunity to pull the emperor out of his seclusion, tasked Isaac’s oldest son Alexios with presenting the plan to Isaac. For his part, Isaac’s younger son Thomas sent his approval of the plans from his estates in Campania.
Though detached from the affairs of state and the events occurring outside of his private quarters, Isaac still remained the same man he had always bee; his boundless energy, had not abandoned him. His time had been spent crafting several historical manuscripts, all of which are unfortunately lost to time. Confronted by his oldest son and heir-apparent, Isaac at last emerged from his morose bookishness. The prospect of adding yet another notch to his list of military victories and to advance the empire’s borders was too great for the emperor to resist. Quickly dispelling any rumors that he was, in fact, dead, the emperor paraded himself through the capital. While the 51 year-old emperor looked only a shadow of the dashing, youthful warrior-king of 1202, he continued to carry himself with a vigorous inner fire that reassured the citizens of Constantinople that he was still the same man who had ruled the empire for the past thirty-five years. Heartened by the outpouring of support from the people of Constantinople whenever he would make an appearance, Isaac determined to invest himself fully to the project of acquiring Tuscany.
Plans, however, were slow to be put into effect. Isaac preferred his tried-and-true method: raising an army and leading it from horseback. Though his age and the time already spent in the saddle had not dimmed his enthusiasm for such an aggressive move, the emperor’s sons thought differently. Alexios offered to go in the emperor’s place, while Thomas insisted that Tuscany could be captured without shedding a single drop of blood. Relenting to his younger son, Isaac went to work crafting his offer of vassalization. The result demonstrates a rarely-seen talent of the emperor’s: his command of the art of diplomacy and rhetoric. The offer, couched in flowing prose and handily dismissing any negative aspects should Governor Alighiero of Siena accept, is nearly a literary masterpiece in its own right. The emperor’s letter arrived in Tuscany on December 27, 1237. All the persuasive and splendidly crafted diplomatic language went to waste on the Italian governor, however. In the intervening months, Alighiero had gone completely insane. Thinking Isaac’s letter to be a message from God, and the unfortunate Greek messenger his long-dead childhood friend, the governor of Tuscany accepted the Byzantine offer, becoming the next in a long line of imperial acquisitions.
Despite the successful imposition of Byzantine suzerainty over Tuscany, which would remain largely content under Isaac save for a rebellion in Firenze in 1240, the emperor was understandably, and rather predictably, unsatisfied with the underwhelming victory in Italy. Intent on new challenges to surmount and glory to attain, Isaac’s gaze turned eastward once more to Antioch. Ever since falling to the Arab onslaught centuries earlier, the great Syrian city of Antioch had always been coveted by Byzantium, only briefly falling back under imperial control in the decades prior to the disaster at Manzikert and again under the Comneni. Ever since the destruction of the Seljuk sultanate, Byzantine pressure on the Crusader duchy had increased steadily. The conquest of Edessa made a Byzantine bid for Antioch inevitable. Such a bid had been delayed by the Khwarizmian war and Isaac’s seclusion. But by 1239, circumstances seemed perfect. The old Duke, Henri de Poitou, had died, leaving his 9-year old son Charles to inherit his father’s realm. Antioch had been fortunate to avoid the same fate as its neighbors, swallowed up in the Muslim Countercrusade, wisely staying neutral in order to wait for the dust to settle and entreat with whoever emerged victorious from the see-saw struggle for the Holy Land.
In 1239, the situation in the Holy Land was one of stalemate. The Frankish fiefdoms running between Antioch and Acre had successfully beaten off the repeated attempts of the Emir of Azerbaijan, much reduced in power since his defeat against Byzantium. The Ayyubids, once poised to reclaim all of the Levant, lay exhausted, drained of manpower and wealth from the constant religious warfare. No one faction had the strength enough to defeat the others, nor the courage to attempt such a risky endeavor. Antioch, Isaac rightly observed, was all on its own. On June 1, 1239, the emperor laid claim to Charles’s title and his armies crossed the border. Isaac was not at the head of this invasion force, preferring not to expose himself to the dangers the rigors of war would inflict upon his aged body. As a result, the Byzantine force marching on Antioch was far larger than what Isaac deemed necessary; the tiny Crusader principality could not possibly muster a force large enough to counter the invaders. The emperor, however, was to be proven wrong. Charles’s regency, intent on preserving their power and “saving” Antioch from schismatic heretics, managed to call to arms a force equal to the Byzantines’ own. Surprised by the size of the opposition, the Byzantines broke their siege of Alexandretta and retreated on July 27. The Franks, buttressed by a sizable Arab levy, attacked, succeeding in hurrying the Byzantine retreat at great cost. The regency’s efforts, however, only delayed the inevitable. Enraged by such stiff resistance, Isaac ordered further thematakoi be mobilized. On December 2, the remaining Franks were crushed, the Byzantine force outnumbering them ten to one. With victory assured, Antioch fell swiftly, opening its gates to the triumphant imperial armies on February 20, 1240. Charles de Poitou, still a minor, was forced to accept Byzantine overlordship in exchange for the right to continue ruling the principality. At long last, Antioch was once more under the control of the Byzantine Empire.
Dimmimar: Well, he had several sons. His bastard son (a rather incompetent one) David kicked the bucket earlier, and he has three legitimate sons: Alexios, Duke of Thrace, Thomas, Duke of Campania, and... I can't remember the other one.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Chapter VIII: The Mad Tuscan
In 1236, Isaac finally returned to Constantinople after his seven-year absence. Despite the celebrations thrown on the occasion of the emperor’s return after years of successful campaigning in Italy and Syria, Isaac showed little enthusiasm, his spirits dampened by his clear defeat against the Khwarizmian kingdom. Worse still, Antoinette’s death in 1233 during the height of the smallpox epidemic deprived Isaac of his most reliable pillar of emotional support. Guilt-ridden over his losses in the Caucuses, the emperor retreated into the imperial palace, taking what solace he could in scholarly pursuits even as the empire continued to prosper around him. The irony of Isaac’s veritable hermitage was not lost on many members of the imperial court, who took it upon themselves to see to the management of the imperial edifice. While still physically and mentally capable, Isaac was trapped in a self-destructive state, and as time passed, many in Constantinople began to wonder if the emperor was still even alive at all.
A year and a half after the emperor’s disappearance, events in the outside world finally forced Isaac to come to grips with his defeat and reassume his responsibility as sovereign of the Byzantine state. In Italy, the German king’s power was rapidly crumbling. In early 1237, Milan broke free, followed several months later by the Republic of Tuscany. Though of little strategic or political importance, the Tuscan republic possessed large tracts of land north of Byzantine Rome. One of Isaac’s main worries during his brief stay in the city was that a Latin coalition might use Tuscany as a base of operations from which to reclaim the Eternal City. It would be a simple matter to raise a sufficient military expedition and secure Tuscany for Byzantium. The imperial court, seeing this as a golden opportunity to pull the emperor out of his seclusion, tasked Isaac’s oldest son Alexios with presenting the plan to Isaac. For his part, Isaac’s younger son Thomas sent his approval of the plans from his estates in Campania.
Though detached from the affairs of state and the events occurring outside of his private quarters, Isaac still remained the same man he had always bee; his boundless energy, had not abandoned him. His time had been spent crafting several historical manuscripts, all of which are unfortunately lost to time. Confronted by his oldest son and heir-apparent, Isaac at last emerged from his morose bookishness. The prospect of adding yet another notch to his list of military victories and to advance the empire’s borders was too great for the emperor to resist. Quickly dispelling any rumors that he was, in fact, dead, the emperor paraded himself through the capital. While the 51 year-old emperor looked only a shadow of the dashing, youthful warrior-king of 1202, he continued to carry himself with a vigorous inner fire that reassured the citizens of Constantinople that he was still the same man who had ruled the empire for the past thirty-five years. Heartened by the outpouring of support from the people of Constantinople whenever he would make an appearance, Isaac determined to invest himself fully to the project of acquiring Tuscany.
Plans, however, were slow to be put into effect. Isaac preferred his tried-and-true method: raising an army and leading it from horseback. Though his age and the time already spent in the saddle had not dimmed his enthusiasm for such an aggressive move, the emperor’s sons thought differently. Alexios offered to go in the emperor’s place, while Thomas insisted that Tuscany could be captured without shedding a single drop of blood. Relenting to his younger son, Isaac went to work crafting his offer of vassalization. The result demonstrates a rarely-seen talent of the emperor’s: his command of the art of diplomacy and rhetoric. The offer, couched in flowing prose and handily dismissing any negative aspects should Governor Alighiero of Siena accept, is nearly a literary masterpiece in its own right. The emperor’s letter arrived in Tuscany on December 27, 1237. All the persuasive and splendidly crafted diplomatic language went to waste on the Italian governor, however. In the intervening months, Alighiero had gone completely insane. Thinking Isaac’s letter to be a message from God, and the unfortunate Greek messenger his long-dead childhood friend, the governor of Tuscany accepted the Byzantine offer, becoming the next in a long line of imperial acquisitions.
Despite the successful imposition of Byzantine suzerainty over Tuscany, which would remain largely content under Isaac save for a rebellion in Firenze in 1240, the emperor was understandably, and rather predictably, unsatisfied with the underwhelming victory in Italy. Intent on new challenges to surmount and glory to attain, Isaac’s gaze turned eastward once more to Antioch. Ever since falling to the Arab onslaught centuries earlier, the great Syrian city of Antioch had always been coveted by Byzantium, only briefly falling back under imperial control in the decades prior to the disaster at Manzikert and again under the Comneni. Ever since the destruction of the Seljuk sultanate, Byzantine pressure on the Crusader duchy had increased steadily. The conquest of Edessa made a Byzantine bid for Antioch inevitable. Such a bid had been delayed by the Khwarizmian war and Isaac’s seclusion. But by 1239, circumstances seemed perfect. The old Duke, Henri de Poitou, had died, leaving his 9-year old son Charles to inherit his father’s realm. Antioch had been fortunate to avoid the same fate as its neighbors, swallowed up in the Muslim Countercrusade, wisely staying neutral in order to wait for the dust to settle and entreat with whoever emerged victorious from the see-saw struggle for the Holy Land.
In 1239, the situation in the Holy Land was one of stalemate. The Frankish fiefdoms running between Antioch and Acre had successfully beaten off the repeated attempts of the Emir of Azerbaijan, much reduced in power since his defeat against Byzantium. The Ayyubids, once poised to reclaim all of the Levant, lay exhausted, drained of manpower and wealth from the constant religious warfare. No one faction had the strength enough to defeat the others, nor the courage to attempt such a risky endeavor. Antioch, Isaac rightly observed, was all on its own. On June 1, 1239, the emperor laid claim to Charles’s title and his armies crossed the border. Isaac was not at the head of this invasion force, preferring not to expose himself to the dangers the rigors of war would inflict upon his aged body. As a result, the Byzantine force marching on Antioch was far larger than what Isaac deemed necessary; the tiny Crusader principality could not possibly muster a force large enough to counter the invaders. The emperor, however, was to be proven wrong. Charles’s regency, intent on preserving their power and “saving” Antioch from schismatic heretics, managed to call to arms a force equal to the Byzantines’ own. Surprised by the size of the opposition, the Byzantines broke their siege of Alexandretta and retreated on July 27. The Franks, buttressed by a sizable Arab levy, attacked, succeeding in hurrying the Byzantine retreat at great cost. The regency’s efforts, however, only delayed the inevitable. Enraged by such stiff resistance, Isaac ordered further thematakoi be mobilized. On December 2, the remaining Franks were crushed, the Byzantine force outnumbering them ten to one. With victory assured, Antioch fell swiftly, opening its gates to the triumphant imperial armies on February 20, 1240. Charles de Poitou, still a minor, was forced to accept Byzantine overlordship in exchange for the right to continue ruling the principality. At long last, Antioch was once more under the control of the Byzantine Empire.
I detect Isaac's swansong on the way... despite his personal misgivings, he's done a truly laudable job. I would say he is deserving of the moniker "the Great." If the Empire is strong enough, now might be the time to swing through the Levant and perhaps grab Jerusalem, or aggressively launch a sea invasion of war weary Egypt. At 51 though, a lot will sit on how many winters Isaac has left. Who are his likely successors?
General_BT: "I detect Isaac's swansong on the way..."
At this point, I began to wonder if Isaac would even die.
"despite his personal misgivings, he's done a truly laudable job."
I don't think anyone but he would actually disagree.
"If the Empire is strong enough, now might be the time to swing through the Levant and perhaps grab Jerusalem, or aggressively launch a sea invasion of war weary Egypt."
I agree. On average, the empire has about 200,000 troops ready to be mobilized, and the European garrisons haven't been used in years. Unfortunately, with the exception of his 7-year absence fro the capital in the last chapter, Isaac is somewhat paranoid about leaving the nobility to its own devices.
"Who are his likely successors?"
Tsk tsk, I must have mentioned it at least twice in the last post. His oldest son is Alexios, Prince of Thrake, then Thomas, Prince of Campania, and another, whose name and title escape me. Both have their own children, the oldest of Alexios's being a young man named Romanos, making him second in line for the succession.
Enewald: At the end of the last update, he's been ruling for 34 years, though that's not including the 13-year minority after the death of Basil III.
With the triumphant conquest of Antioch, for which Isaac received the renewed adulation of the citizens of Constantinople, the empire entered a new time of peace not seen since the days of the regency, thirty-eight years prior. Since that time, the Byzantine Empire had undergone the largest and most significant territorial expansion of its history. The new land was accompanied by the greatest strain ever yet placed on the Byzantine administrative system. Yet the Byzantine state proved more than capable of such a task. From Rome to the Caspian, Byzantine thema were on the rise, sprouting up like crops. It seemed at long last that the military integrity of the empire, in a precarious balance since Alexios Comnenos had brought it back from the brink of oblivion, was at last restored.
The combination of decades of military success and imperial fiscal responsibility proved fertile for the period of peace 1240 was about to inaugurate. Not exhausted from foreign adventures as it had under the later Comneni, the Byzantine state entered this period of tranquility in perfect condition. Tax revenues, bolstered by exceptionally bountiful harvests and a surge in trade on both land and sea, flowed into Constantinople like a river. Before long, the imperial coffers were bulging with gold. But rather than hording this newfound wealth like a miserly penny-pincher, the Emperor Isaac chose a remarkably modern approach, reinvesting much of the state’s taxes in provincial developments. Indeed, in order to fight off the boredom the energetic emperor inevitably felt when away from the army, Isaac devoted what free time he had not otherwise consumed by his academic pursuits or the day-to-day imperial administration in researching and considering the innumerable investment offers presented to him. Across the whole length and breadth of the empire, roads, harbors, workshops, schools, libraries, training grounds, churches, monasteries, irrigation systems, aqueducts, and courts sprouted up, all owing their existence to the generosity of the emperor. This in turn only added to the empire’s tax revenues, in a sense generating an upward spiral of economic and financial prosperity that could benefit everyone.
An added bonus to such activities, or at least from the perspective of the central government, was the steady assimilation of the provinces into the dominant Greek Orthodox culture. The Muslim populations predominating the countryside from Iconion to Azerbaijan were largely gone; either converted, killed, or assimilated. In their place, Anatolia was almost entirely Orthodox, the Turks showing a remarkable openness to the “infidel” religion. It certainly helped that, after the first bloody waves of religious conversions, Isaac had decreed that Byzantine officials were to exercise a modicum of tolerance for religious dissenters. It was certainly not beyond the realm of possibility when in 1245, Isaac declared Christianity might once again spread across all the lands once lost to the empire.
But by far and away the most important of all the changes that swept over the empire in the decade following 1240 was that of the reassertion of the supremacy of the imperial central government. The pronoia, once the dreaded bane of the Batatzes family and the great threat to Isaac’s reign, were largely powerless. No single or group of nobles could seriously consider challenging the immensely popular Isaac. Even should the mobs of Constantinople forsake their emperor, the thematakoi, dwarfing the pronoia landholders, could still be counted on to support the emperor should he call on them. The smallholders owed their newfound homes, livelihood, and social standing to Isaac Batatzes, not a pack of greedy, land-grubbing aristocrats. It seemed that finally, Isaac’s oldest enemy was defeated. Eirene would have been proud.
Perhaps nothing underscores the extent to which the nobility had succumbed to the central government in Constantinople than a bizarre crisis in 1244. Owing to a loophole in the succession law, the dux Symeon Thessalonika rightly declared that his two cousins, Isaac and Romanos, were actually ahead of Emperor Isaac’s son Alexios in the imperial succession. Justifiably angered by such a development, Isaac dispatched several assassins in June. The first attempt on the legal heir of the imperial throne failed and was discovered, prompting Symeon to foolishly attack the emperor’s son Thomas. Thomas, for his part, dispatched his own assassin, killing the dux of Thessalonika’s son. The situation quickly degenerated into a flurry of assassination attempts. The emperor’s eldest daughter was attacked, as was Thomas yet again. Eventually, Symeon’s two cousins were killed. Whether it was Isaac or Thomas who gave the order that successfully eliminated the two new upstart heirs, no pronoia attempted to step in to stop the madness, and one of their most powerful was left without two cousins and a son.
At this point, I began to wonder if Isaac would even die.
"despite his personal misgivings, he's done a truly laudable job."
I don't think anyone but he would actually disagree.
"If the Empire is strong enough, now might be the time to swing through the Levant and perhaps grab Jerusalem, or aggressively launch a sea invasion of war weary Egypt."
I agree. On average, the empire has about 200,000 troops ready to be mobilized, and the European garrisons haven't been used in years. Unfortunately, with the exception of his 7-year absence fro the capital in the last chapter, Isaac is somewhat paranoid about leaving the nobility to its own devices.
"Who are his likely successors?"
Tsk tsk, I must have mentioned it at least twice in the last post. His oldest son is Alexios, Prince of Thrake, then Thomas, Prince of Campania, and another, whose name and title escape me. Both have their own children, the oldest of Alexios's being a young man named Romanos, making him second in line for the succession.
Enewald: At the end of the last update, he's been ruling for 34 years, though that's not including the 13-year minority after the death of Basil III.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Chapter IX: The Years of Peace
With the triumphant conquest of Antioch, for which Isaac received the renewed adulation of the citizens of Constantinople, the empire entered a new time of peace not seen since the days of the regency, thirty-eight years prior. Since that time, the Byzantine Empire had undergone the largest and most significant territorial expansion of its history. The new land was accompanied by the greatest strain ever yet placed on the Byzantine administrative system. Yet the Byzantine state proved more than capable of such a task. From Rome to the Caspian, Byzantine thema were on the rise, sprouting up like crops. It seemed at long last that the military integrity of the empire, in a precarious balance since Alexios Comnenos had brought it back from the brink of oblivion, was at last restored.
The combination of decades of military success and imperial fiscal responsibility proved fertile for the period of peace 1240 was about to inaugurate. Not exhausted from foreign adventures as it had under the later Comneni, the Byzantine state entered this period of tranquility in perfect condition. Tax revenues, bolstered by exceptionally bountiful harvests and a surge in trade on both land and sea, flowed into Constantinople like a river. Before long, the imperial coffers were bulging with gold. But rather than hording this newfound wealth like a miserly penny-pincher, the Emperor Isaac chose a remarkably modern approach, reinvesting much of the state’s taxes in provincial developments. Indeed, in order to fight off the boredom the energetic emperor inevitably felt when away from the army, Isaac devoted what free time he had not otherwise consumed by his academic pursuits or the day-to-day imperial administration in researching and considering the innumerable investment offers presented to him. Across the whole length and breadth of the empire, roads, harbors, workshops, schools, libraries, training grounds, churches, monasteries, irrigation systems, aqueducts, and courts sprouted up, all owing their existence to the generosity of the emperor. This in turn only added to the empire’s tax revenues, in a sense generating an upward spiral of economic and financial prosperity that could benefit everyone.
An added bonus to such activities, or at least from the perspective of the central government, was the steady assimilation of the provinces into the dominant Greek Orthodox culture. The Muslim populations predominating the countryside from Iconion to Azerbaijan were largely gone; either converted, killed, or assimilated. In their place, Anatolia was almost entirely Orthodox, the Turks showing a remarkable openness to the “infidel” religion. It certainly helped that, after the first bloody waves of religious conversions, Isaac had decreed that Byzantine officials were to exercise a modicum of tolerance for religious dissenters. It was certainly not beyond the realm of possibility when in 1245, Isaac declared Christianity might once again spread across all the lands once lost to the empire.
But by far and away the most important of all the changes that swept over the empire in the decade following 1240 was that of the reassertion of the supremacy of the imperial central government. The pronoia, once the dreaded bane of the Batatzes family and the great threat to Isaac’s reign, were largely powerless. No single or group of nobles could seriously consider challenging the immensely popular Isaac. Even should the mobs of Constantinople forsake their emperor, the thematakoi, dwarfing the pronoia landholders, could still be counted on to support the emperor should he call on them. The smallholders owed their newfound homes, livelihood, and social standing to Isaac Batatzes, not a pack of greedy, land-grubbing aristocrats. It seemed that finally, Isaac’s oldest enemy was defeated. Eirene would have been proud.
Perhaps nothing underscores the extent to which the nobility had succumbed to the central government in Constantinople than a bizarre crisis in 1244. Owing to a loophole in the succession law, the dux Symeon Thessalonika rightly declared that his two cousins, Isaac and Romanos, were actually ahead of Emperor Isaac’s son Alexios in the imperial succession. Justifiably angered by such a development, Isaac dispatched several assassins in June. The first attempt on the legal heir of the imperial throne failed and was discovered, prompting Symeon to foolishly attack the emperor’s son Thomas. Thomas, for his part, dispatched his own assassin, killing the dux of Thessalonika’s son. The situation quickly degenerated into a flurry of assassination attempts. The emperor’s eldest daughter was attacked, as was Thomas yet again. Eventually, Symeon’s two cousins were killed. Whether it was Isaac or Thomas who gave the order that successfully eliminated the two new upstart heirs, no pronoia attempted to step in to stop the madness, and one of their most powerful was left without two cousins and a son.
I love those assasin spam wars. :rofl:
Isaac could make Rome noble-free-zone...
Or just conquer more with his gold.
How much gold and prestige does he have?
Isaac could make Rome noble-free-zone...
Or just conquer more with his gold.
How much gold and prestige does he have?
Yet another byzantine AAR! And a really good one! I curious to see whether Isaacs successor will be up to the task of ruling the empire left to him.
~Lord Valentine~
~Lord Valentine~
Finally years of peace, but they were certainly good years of territorial expansion, could we have a map, please?
Enewald: Isaac has more gold than he knows what to do with, and enough prestige to claim a quarter of the remaining king titles on the map.
Lord Valentine: Thanks for the compliments. I think Isaac (and myself) are as concerned with the succession as you are.
Capibara: I'll have a map of the empire once Isaac dies. Considering his age, that's not very far off, either.
In 1250, Byzantium’s decade of peace came to an end. The emperor could look back on the last ten years with a great measure of satisfaction. The empire was at its wealthiest and strongest in over two centuries, and his imperial authority was supreme. Indeed, after nearly a half-century of successful conquests and solid administrative ability, it was small wonder that Isaac’s empire was as strong as it was. Yet for all the prosperity the empire enjoyed, the 1240s was not perfect. In December of 1248, Isaac’s oldest son and the heir-apparent, Alexios, dux of the old Batatzian family land holdings, died unexpectedly in a smallpox outbreak. His son Romanos succeeded him, and by right would be next in line for the imperial succession.
The death of Alexios immediately raised doubts in the emperor’s mind as to the future of the empire. Haunted by the possible threat of a succession crisis, Isaac fretted over the inevitable issue of the succession. He knew next to nothing about his grandson and determined to “size him up” before age finally caught up with him. But rather than send for the new dux from Constantinople, Isaac instead planned to go on campaign with Romanos to observe the full mettle of the man who would one day – and that day could not be too far off – become emperor. The imperial court immediately protested the emperor’s plans when he announced them in late 1249. Their objections were many and varied: some worried that additional territories would overload an already strained administrative apparatus that was still in the process of integrating the conquests from the last war, while others wondered whether the 64-year old emperor was still fit to ride to war at the head of an army. Undeterred, Isaac insisted that preparations for war would go ahead. His old energetic self was coming to the fore once again. Hurriedly, the emperor dispatched orders to the eastern thema and requested Romanos to meet him at Tarbiz before departing the capital.
The Byzantine armies arrived on the eastern frontiers in early February 1248, totally approximately 30,000. Since his decision to go to war, the emperor had little doubt of his intended target. The Ayyubids still held nominal control of all of Syria southeast of Edessa, including the city of Damascus, but years of conflict with the Frankish crusaders, who successfully captured Alexandria and Cairo, had left the kingdom of Saladin a shadow of its former power. After arriving at Tarbiz in the weeks following the mobilization of the thematakoi, Isaac decided to split the force into thirds. Isaac, with Romanos at his side, would lead the main force from Tarbiz and march south through Kurdistan while the rest of the army, split between Kosmas Thrakesios and the eccentric Danish crusader Bjorn Contarini, would remain in position along the border, in order to pin the Arab armies in place while Isaac preoccupied himself with besieging Ayyubid cities and strongholds. Unlike Anatolia or Azerbaijan, Syria was a heavily fortified place, the desert landscapes pockmarked by fortresses and military outposts. In this way, Isaac hoped to truly get to know his grandson through the drudgery of siege warfare. On February 22, the emperor’s army began to march.
As anticipated, the Byzantines encountered little serious resistance. Through much of March, Isaac brushed aside the puny garrison forces sent to delay his advance and jokingly commented that he spent more time declining the repeated offers of peace from Sultan Dawlat’s Syrian vassals than actually fighting the Saracens. On August 29, the fortress at Al-Jizari fell, and Sinjar in January 1251. Isaac continued his march south, constantly harried by small Arab raiding parties but never attacked by a significant Ayyubid force. It seemed as through Dawlat was resigned to losing Syria. Adding to the plight of the Arab defenders, a second Byzantine army, under the command of Ioannes Antiochites and reinforced by several thousand Bulgar mercenaries, moved south from Edess. In May, Isaac swung his army westward, planning on converging with Antiochites at Damascus. By early August, he had arrived in front of the city and proceeded to lay siege. Surrounded and without any hope of a relief army, Damascus opened its gates and surrendered to the Byzantines on October 31, 1251. For all intents and purposes, the war was at an end, but Isaac would have to spend the next several months mopping up the remaining Arabs, who still clung tenaciously to the series of towns and outposts sprinkled throughout the Syrian countryside northeast of Damascus. By February 1252 these had all been dealt with without serious effort, and Dawlat agreed to the emperor’s peace terms.
The capture of Syria and, more importantly, Damascus, firmly reestablished a Byzantine presence astride the Holy Land. The empire hovered like a menacing storm cloud over the heads of its Muslim overlords. From Baghdad to Jerusalem, the Arabs fully expected to see an imperial army before long. Their fears were not entirely unjustifiable. It took a great deal of persuasion from his generals to convince Isaac to not attempt an expedition for either city. Isaac would have to remain satisfied, as hard as that was for him, with accomplishing what he had set out for, the conquest of Damascus and the assurance that he would be succeeded by an able man.
Lord Valentine: Thanks for the compliments. I think Isaac (and myself) are as concerned with the succession as you are.
Capibara: I'll have a map of the empire once Isaac dies. Considering his age, that's not very far off, either.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Chapter X: A Bonding Experience
In 1250, Byzantium’s decade of peace came to an end. The emperor could look back on the last ten years with a great measure of satisfaction. The empire was at its wealthiest and strongest in over two centuries, and his imperial authority was supreme. Indeed, after nearly a half-century of successful conquests and solid administrative ability, it was small wonder that Isaac’s empire was as strong as it was. Yet for all the prosperity the empire enjoyed, the 1240s was not perfect. In December of 1248, Isaac’s oldest son and the heir-apparent, Alexios, dux of the old Batatzian family land holdings, died unexpectedly in a smallpox outbreak. His son Romanos succeeded him, and by right would be next in line for the imperial succession.
The death of Alexios immediately raised doubts in the emperor’s mind as to the future of the empire. Haunted by the possible threat of a succession crisis, Isaac fretted over the inevitable issue of the succession. He knew next to nothing about his grandson and determined to “size him up” before age finally caught up with him. But rather than send for the new dux from Constantinople, Isaac instead planned to go on campaign with Romanos to observe the full mettle of the man who would one day – and that day could not be too far off – become emperor. The imperial court immediately protested the emperor’s plans when he announced them in late 1249. Their objections were many and varied: some worried that additional territories would overload an already strained administrative apparatus that was still in the process of integrating the conquests from the last war, while others wondered whether the 64-year old emperor was still fit to ride to war at the head of an army. Undeterred, Isaac insisted that preparations for war would go ahead. His old energetic self was coming to the fore once again. Hurriedly, the emperor dispatched orders to the eastern thema and requested Romanos to meet him at Tarbiz before departing the capital.
The Byzantine armies arrived on the eastern frontiers in early February 1248, totally approximately 30,000. Since his decision to go to war, the emperor had little doubt of his intended target. The Ayyubids still held nominal control of all of Syria southeast of Edessa, including the city of Damascus, but years of conflict with the Frankish crusaders, who successfully captured Alexandria and Cairo, had left the kingdom of Saladin a shadow of its former power. After arriving at Tarbiz in the weeks following the mobilization of the thematakoi, Isaac decided to split the force into thirds. Isaac, with Romanos at his side, would lead the main force from Tarbiz and march south through Kurdistan while the rest of the army, split between Kosmas Thrakesios and the eccentric Danish crusader Bjorn Contarini, would remain in position along the border, in order to pin the Arab armies in place while Isaac preoccupied himself with besieging Ayyubid cities and strongholds. Unlike Anatolia or Azerbaijan, Syria was a heavily fortified place, the desert landscapes pockmarked by fortresses and military outposts. In this way, Isaac hoped to truly get to know his grandson through the drudgery of siege warfare. On February 22, the emperor’s army began to march.
As anticipated, the Byzantines encountered little serious resistance. Through much of March, Isaac brushed aside the puny garrison forces sent to delay his advance and jokingly commented that he spent more time declining the repeated offers of peace from Sultan Dawlat’s Syrian vassals than actually fighting the Saracens. On August 29, the fortress at Al-Jizari fell, and Sinjar in January 1251. Isaac continued his march south, constantly harried by small Arab raiding parties but never attacked by a significant Ayyubid force. It seemed as through Dawlat was resigned to losing Syria. Adding to the plight of the Arab defenders, a second Byzantine army, under the command of Ioannes Antiochites and reinforced by several thousand Bulgar mercenaries, moved south from Edess. In May, Isaac swung his army westward, planning on converging with Antiochites at Damascus. By early August, he had arrived in front of the city and proceeded to lay siege. Surrounded and without any hope of a relief army, Damascus opened its gates and surrendered to the Byzantines on October 31, 1251. For all intents and purposes, the war was at an end, but Isaac would have to spend the next several months mopping up the remaining Arabs, who still clung tenaciously to the series of towns and outposts sprinkled throughout the Syrian countryside northeast of Damascus. By February 1252 these had all been dealt with without serious effort, and Dawlat agreed to the emperor’s peace terms.
The capture of Syria and, more importantly, Damascus, firmly reestablished a Byzantine presence astride the Holy Land. The empire hovered like a menacing storm cloud over the heads of its Muslim overlords. From Baghdad to Jerusalem, the Arabs fully expected to see an imperial army before long. Their fears were not entirely unjustifiable. It took a great deal of persuasion from his generals to convince Isaac to not attempt an expedition for either city. Isaac would have to remain satisfied, as hard as that was for him, with accomplishing what he had set out for, the conquest of Damascus and the assurance that he would be succeeded by an able man.
A good Kaisar is allways good. But usually they die before they get to inherit the throne.
Chapter XI: Awaiting the Inevitable
The Syrian War of 1250-1252 was the emperor’s swan song. Isaac lingered only a short time in the east to establish his three generals, Thrakesios, Contarini, and Antiochites as strategoi of the new thema that would be carved out of Syria. As he traveled back across the empire to Constantinople, time at last caught up with Isaac. The emperor entered the capital an exhausted man, filled with melancholy over the inevitable end. As before, Isaac retreated into the seclusion of his private chambers, leaving himself to contemplate his life and what he was about to face. For their part, Romanos and the imperial court left him to his renewed hermitage. There he would wile away his remaining days, alone save for his memories and the books that he had gathered around himself since his childhood. Late on the night of July 31, 1255, the emperor dismissed his servant Theophilos, the only man Isaac spent any prolonged period of time with since the Syrian war, with the innocent phrase “I think this will be the first night in a long time I will be able to sleep soundly.” When Theophilos returned in the morning, he discovered his master dead. At the age of 69, Emperor Isaac Batatzes III was dead, having passed away peacefully in his sleep sometime during the night, alone.
The death of Isaac resounded like a colossal thunderclap that shook the aristocracy and the citizens of Constantinople to their core. Isaac had been emperor since 1189, and had ruled since 1202, an unprecedented 53 years. Most people in the empire could not remember a time when Isaac had not been there. For him to finally be dead was the end of an era, one of unprecedented military expansion and economic prosperity. Emperor Isaac had been a part of the Byzantine way of life; and while he had at times withdrawn completely from the public, he was never truly gone, or for very long. The fact that he was gone forever was a hard realization for many indeed. The capital shut down for a whole week in mourning. Trade came to a standstill, the hippodrome cancelled all games, and churches held memorial services and prayers for their beloved emperor’s departed soul. Some insisted that the Patriarch beatify Isaac, while others demanded he posthumously be given the title “Megas.” While his five remaining bastard children made it difficult to grant the former, no one could object to the latter.
So ended one of the most remarkable reigns in history. Emperor Isaac III had been a skilled general, consummate politician, and one of the most bizarre personalities of the Middle Ages. Blessed by a boundless energy, he had achieved every goal he set out to accomplish, restoring the Byzantine Empire to the ranks of a world power and making himself undisputed master of the oftentimes perilous imperial throne. That the three-year old boy without a father could come so far and accomplish so much is testament enough to Isaac’s greatness. One could spend page after page lauding the emperor’s achievements, but here that is not necessary. Suffice to say, Isaac earned the title “Megas.”
But the emperor’s accomplishments went beyond just martial skill and statesmanship, something hinted at in the mountain of scribbled notes and jumbled papers that comprised his attempts at scholarly writing and contemplations in his final years. He was more than just a successful Byzantine emperor, more than the “Megas” Batatzes. Isaac was a man of vision and dreams. Time and again, that demonic energy that sent him from Rome to Azerbaijan and back again was the product of something deeper, a vision of the Roman Empire restored, of a way of life, of spreading Orthodoxy far and wide, of that great and ancient civilization that had bound the lands of Europe, Asia, and Africa under a single roof. The vision proved elusive through Isaac’s entire life, and he would go about trying to fulfill that vision in more ways than one many times over. Perhaps his inability to ever fully articulate that vision is what drove him to scrawl “I have failed at everything” on one of his innumerable notes. It is startling for one to consider that Isaac believed himself to be a failure, that he died filled with regrets. But we can be encouraged to know that his vision was not snuffed out by his own death. The vision of Isaac Batatzes had been passed on, while sitting beneath the walls of Damascus and the fortress-towns of Syria, to Romanos Batatzes.
Well, there you go. The first eleven updates to my AAR, spanning what I consider to be the first era of the "Revival of the Byzantine Empire" inaugurated by Basil III and Isaac III Batatzes. At the moment, I have nothing else written, but as I proceed further into my game, I'll write up the next batch of updates.
So, with Part 1 done, what does everyone think so far?
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As promised, too, here is the map of the extent of the Byzantine Empire as of the death of Isaac, and a brief overview of the emperors.
As you can see, the empire has expanded monumentally during Isaac's reign from it's previous borders (outlined in black) to encompass Bulgaria, southern Italy, and all of Asia Minor and portions of Sicily and the Levant.
Byzantium's northern borders are a mess, owing to the Cumans going on a rampage through Hungary, which Moscow proceeded to steamroll, allowing it to capture about a third of Russia in the process. (Moscow now has about three or four prince titles). The Middle East is equally confused, a conglomeration of French, English, Azerbaijani, Ayyubid, Khawarizmian, Abbasid, and even Cyprussan, Muscovite, and Hospitaller possessions.
EDIT- for those who can't read blurry red blobs, the upper left two names read: Duchy of Croatia and Muscovite vassals, while the ones on the bottom read Latin Crusader states, Ayyubid kingdom, and Azerbaijan
And here is the brief overview of the empire's last two emperors, from 1187 to 1255. It has been sixty-eight years since the Batatzes family came to power. Just how much longer will they hold on to the purple, now that their wonder-child has died?
Well, you'll just have to wait and find out.
So, with Part 1 done, what does everyone think so far?
====
As promised, too, here is the map of the extent of the Byzantine Empire as of the death of Isaac, and a brief overview of the emperors.
As you can see, the empire has expanded monumentally during Isaac's reign from it's previous borders (outlined in black) to encompass Bulgaria, southern Italy, and all of Asia Minor and portions of Sicily and the Levant.
Byzantium's northern borders are a mess, owing to the Cumans going on a rampage through Hungary, which Moscow proceeded to steamroll, allowing it to capture about a third of Russia in the process. (Moscow now has about three or four prince titles). The Middle East is equally confused, a conglomeration of French, English, Azerbaijani, Ayyubid, Khawarizmian, Abbasid, and even Cyprussan, Muscovite, and Hospitaller possessions.
EDIT- for those who can't read blurry red blobs, the upper left two names read: Duchy of Croatia and Muscovite vassals, while the ones on the bottom read Latin Crusader states, Ayyubid kingdom, and Azerbaijan
And here is the brief overview of the empire's last two emperors, from 1187 to 1255. It has been sixty-eight years since the Batatzes family came to power. Just how much longer will they hold on to the purple, now that their wonder-child has died?
Well, you'll just have to wait and find out.
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Wow, a amazing reign he had!
66 is years is a very long time.
Even Octavian didn't rule that long, if I remember well... :wacko:
And Victoria and Luis XVI are something different.
No one remembers the time without the old ruler.
He becomes the nation.
66 is years is a very long time.
Even Octavian didn't rule that long, if I remember well... :wacko:
And Victoria and Luis XVI are something different.
No one remembers the time without the old ruler.
He becomes the nation.
He certainly deserved the title Megas. It was a period of resurrection for the Empire, but I wonder how long can the Empire stay in this period of prosperity.