Sons of the Harlot Empress
- Thread starter Carp
- Start date
Yes, as Hugh discovered (both IOTL and ITTL), it doesn't really matter what you do with the passes if the people you place in charge of them turn on you. Securing them isn't a bad idea, but it's also not going to save you if the Lombard nobility is constantly soliciting resumes for new kings.
For the time being, Constantine has other things to worry about - although his own civil war is over, the ripple effects from the ongoing Bulgarian-Byzantine war (and Italy's response to them) will dominate the next few updates. In any case, Lombardy is more of a long-term project - crushing the rebellion is a good start, but actually getting the region under control and establishing a tradition of effective royal power is not accomplished overnight.
For the time being, Constantine has other things to worry about - although his own civil war is over, the ripple effects from the ongoing Bulgarian-Byzantine war (and Italy's response to them) will dominate the next few updates. In any case, Lombardy is more of a long-term project - crushing the rebellion is a good start, but actually getting the region under control and establishing a tradition of effective royal power is not accomplished overnight.
No, that's the same as OTL. By the late 990s, the Bulgarian emperor Samuel controlled Macedonia, Thessaly, Epirus, and Serbia. In 998 he launches an invasion of Croatia. There's a good reason that Basil hasn't been able to devote much attention to Italy - he's got his hands full in the Balkans.
Click to enlarge:
XXVI. Brides and Barbarism
XXVI. Brides and Barbarism
Depiction of Queen Alcinda of Hungary, 11th century
The Sainted King and the White Queen
In the account of Alcerius, Alcinda, the bastard daughter of Emperor Octavian, wept profusely when she was taken from her convent. It is not difficult to feel sorry for her. The illegitimate orphan of an emperor who took no interest in her and a mother who, as far as we know, did not long survive her daughter’s birth, Alcinda was not an unwilling candidate for the consecrated life, and she must have been appalled and profoundly shaken by the sudden change in her circumstances. At the age of seventeen (or thereabouts), she was ripped from a community of piety and safety and carried hundreds of miles into a foreign land to be bartered to a heathen prince as the price for a military alliance arranged by her “wicked stepmother,” the Dowager-Empress Agatha Porphyrogenita.
Géza, Prince of the Magyars, was indeed a heathen, albeit a baptized one, for his conversion was never more than skin-deep. His son, however – Alcinda’s husband-to-be – was another matter entirely. Vajk, better known to history by his baptismal name, Stephen (Magyar: István), earnestly believed what his father only pretended to. In time he was to be a saint as well as a king, and for her trouble Alcinda would become his sainted queen. She was the polar opposite of her half-sister, Queen Helena of Germany; while Helena eagerly entangled herself in politics; Alcinda never truly left the cloister in spirit, and her only involvement in affairs of state was as a prolific patroness of the newly-established Hungarian church. Nevertheless, she performed her duties as a royal consort, and became even in her life a symbol of purity and virtue whom later Hungarian writers would give the immortal name of Regina Alba, the “White Queen.”[1] After her death and with the growing Christianization of Hungary, she became a favorite intercessory figure, a patron saint of brides whose tomb and relics would be prayed over by legions of Hungarian women for centuries to come.[2]
To reach that apex, however, she and her husband were required to weather a formidable challenge. Brought to the prince’s court in early 995, Alcinda was married just over two years when her father-in-law Géza died. Stephen was acclaimed as fejedelem (ruling prince) by his followers at Esztergom, and by western standards the succession may have seemed straightforward; he was his father’s only living son and designated heir. Géza, a man of ruthless practicality, had already seen to the destruction of a number of his family members that might have contested the throne with him or his son. This purge was clearly not total, however, as no sooner had Stephen claimed his father’s title than he was opposed by his cousin Koppány (in Latin, Cupan).
The struggle between the two princes has often been characterized as a religious war, pitting Koppány and his pagan supporters against Stephen and his Christians. Evidence for Koppány’s paganism, however, is surprisingly thin. He claimed the throne on the basis of seniority, as he was the eldest member of the House of Arpad, and he also proposed marriage to Sarolt, Stephen’s mother. Both of these claims – to Géza’s title and Géza’s widow – were well-grounded in Magyar tradition, but adherence to tradition does not necessarily imply full-throated paganism; he may have been no more or less of a pagan than Géza himself, who generally observed the traditions of his people, religious and otherwise, despite his baptism. Koppány’s supporters seem to have been largely pagan and he may well have ginned up support with an appeal to Magyar traditionalism, but his war with Stephen is best understood as a dynastic conflict between rival princes, not a widespread religious uprising.
Stephen was compelled to appeal for help from his neighbors. Constantine, having won his own throne with Magyar aid, could hardly refuse him. Stephen was supported by a host of Italian milites under the emperor’s half-brother John Aureus, who had been appointed as Margrave of Carniola after its previous occupant, Azus, had been deposed and imprisoned for his role in the rebellion.[3] Italians were prominent in Stephen’s service, but they were not alone among foreigners; a significant number of Slavs and at least some Germans fought on his side, and Pecheneg support has been postulated as well. After initial territorial losses to Koppány, Stephen’s faction rallied and defeated the rebels. Koppány fled to his own lands south of the Danube, but was eventually cornered, captured, and executed either in 997 or 998. Pieces of his body were thereafter displayed prominently in several towns across the kingdom. Even future saints, apparently, could send grisly messages.
To guard against future challenges, Stephen settled his supporters – including substantial numbers of Italians – in lands seized from the rebels. It was, in a sense, similar to what Constantine had already done; while most of the Magyar riders “loaned” to Agatha by Géza had returned to Hungary with Alcinda in 995, several hundred stayed on in Italy in Constantine’s service, including the captain “Conrad” noted in the legendary conversion incident at Modena. Constantine had spent the formative years of his life being threatened by traitors and rebels, and there was an obvious benefit to surrounding himself with a bodyguard that was both militarily proficient and completely removed from Italian politics and imperial pretensions. These Ungari milites or milites Ungarorum, noted by contemporary writers, were to remain a fixture of Constantine’s reign, led eventually by an officer called the praefectus Ungarorum (“Prefect of the Hungarians”), the first of which is usually (but not definitively) identified as Conrad the Hungarian.[4] Stephen settled his Italians as landed vassals rather than retaining them as a royal bodyguard, but he no doubt found their outsider status useful in much the same way as Constantine.
The Capuan Revolt
Crescentius the Younger, who had been entrusted by his older brother John Crescentius as magister militum for the puppet Prince Atenulf of Capua and Benevento, had wisely ridden out the Lombard rebellion without risking much. He neither supported nor directly opposed the revolt of his nephew John II of Spoleto, and thus survived John’s fall. When Emperor Constantine paraded victoriously through Rome, Crescentius sent his younger son, Theophylact, as an envoy to assure the emperor of his loyalty, but the Crescentian contribution to the emperor’s cause was at best minimal. Given the turmoil of Constantine’s regency and early reign, Crescentius could easily enjoy a de facto independence in his southern principality. Capuan coins of this period omit any mention of the emperor or his empire, and give equal billing to Atenulf and Crescentius as though they were co-rulers. Yet the independence of Crescentius required force to maintain it, and the loss of his family’s control over Spoleto seriously weakened his position. While John Crescentius had held Spoleto as a power base, he could easily overawe the Lombard notables of the southern principality. Crescentius failed to realize the essential paradox that his “independence” from the empire was made possible only by his support from within the empire. The more he distanced himself from Constantine, the more he endangered his own rule.
In 995, as Constantine was still campaigning in the north, the disgruntled family of Atenulf made their move against the magister militum. Pandulf “Ironhead,” Atenulf’s father, had originally ruled as co-prince with his younger brother Landulf III. After Landulf’s death, however, Pandulf had made himself sole prince of Capua and Benevento in defiance of the rights of Landulf’s sons, Landulf and Pandulf. In 995 the brothers rebelled against Atenulf and Crescentius. They were aided by various Lombard nobles as well as Duke Manso of Amalfi, and may have received financial support from the Byzantines (or at least that was alleged by Italian chroniclers). Crescentius, his son Crescentius III, and Prince Atenulf were ejected from Capua but fled to Alifano [Alife], where they held on to a rump state in the north. The brothers split the rest of the principality amongst themselves, with Landulf in Capua and Pandulf in Benevento.
Constantine does not seem to have jumped at the chance to prop up his cousin. Alcerius writes that the dowager-empress Agatha Porphyrogenita distrusted Crescentius and intrigued against him, which comes as no surprise; even if he had done nothing to aid the rebel John II, he was still the brother of the magister militum of the empire who had usurped Agatha’s regency. After Octavian’s death, Agatha’s standing policy towards the whole Crescentii family seems to have been one of unrelenting hostility. As for Landulf and Pandulf, they were not above making empty gestures of obedience to Constantine, perhaps hoping that he would find them to be equally acceptable as nominal clients with no actual obligations to the empire.
Constantine was not satisfied by mere nominal obedience, but he would take no action regarding Capua-Benevento until 997, when he ventured south to Rome. The chief occasion for this visit was unrelated to his cousin’s plight; he was to be wed to the Burgundinian princess Adelaide, daughter of King Hugh II of Provence, and the empress-to-be needed to be brought to Rome to be crowned. Crescentius took the opportunity to request the emperor’s aid, but the emperor’s support was not forthcoming until Crescentius himself appeared at Tusculum and begged Constantine’s intervention personally. The emperor dispatched his general Octavian of Rieti to assist Crescentius, but this aid seems to have been ineffective; the Romans and Spoletans under Octavian apparently bickered with their Neapolitan and Capuan allies, and little progress was made.
Church and Family
As one marriage began, another seemed to be on the rocks. King Otto II of Germany had been effectively estranged from his queen, Helena of Italy, ever since her political manipulations had sabotaged Otto’s initial attempt to make peace during the Burgundinian crisis. Thietmar tells us that the king blamed her for the needless loss of life that followed, particularly that of Duke Conrad of Swabia, the king’s brother-in-law (despite the fact that Conrad, who was probably Helena’s co-conspirator, surely bore plenty of responsibility for his own death). In any case, some new political disagreement seems to have arisen which drove Helena to not only spurn Otto’s bed but actually leave the country (probably in the summer or autumn of 997) and take refuge with her mother and brother at Pavia. She was a welcome guest, but her “exile” in Italy was a matter of some political delicacy. Otto and Constantine were already at odds over the emperor’s marriage to Adelaide. Otto’s war with Hugh had arguably saved Constantine’s throne from the Provencal king; for Constantine to turn around and marry Hugh’s daughter must have seemed like betrayal. Agatha’s presence in Italy only strained this relationship further, and denied Constantine his best asset in the German court.
The emperor appealed to his uncle, Pope Adeodatus III, for assistance in this matter – or, more accurately, to his uncle’s chancellor Gratian of Praeneste, as Adeodatus was in a rather sorry state. The pontiff had been lapsing in and out of debilitating illness for some time, which some assumed to be a chronic disease but which Alcerius claimed was the result of the pope’s overzealous fasting and asceticism. Gratian, a brusque, hard-nosed cleric, was not cut out to be a marriage counselor, but he did reach out to Willigis, the Archbishop of Mainz and Otto’s royal vicar and chancellor. In a memorable story in Thietmar’s history, Willigis sneaks Helena into the king’s chamber while he is absent. Otto, returning from a course of falconry, finds Helena there and immediately storms out again, only to be confronted and berated by Willigis for ignoring the commands of Paul to the Ephesians (“Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church”) and denying Helena his “marital affection.” Otto eventually relents and returns to his chambers. Thietmar ends the tale there, but the meaning of “marital affection” is implied. The absence of Liutprand is felt keenly here; unlike the more straight-laced Thietmar, Liutprand could never resist a ribald tale and would surely have had a field day with the suggestion of an archbishop browbeating a king into sleeping with his wife. It is unclear if Willigis’ “remedy” led to any improvement of the personal relationship between Otto and Helena, but we at least hear no more of her residing in a separate bedchamber or fleeing abroad.
Either from an ongoing illness or by starving himself to death, Pope Adeodatus III passed away in April 998, at or near the age of 50; he had not quite lived long enough to see the end of the millennium which had been the focus of his (possibly lethal) obsession. The last two popes had been close relatives of the Tusculani emperors, but Constantine had no suitable uncles, brothers, or nephews for the position. The most prominent candidate within the pope’s inner circle was Chancellor Gratian, and he seems to have had significant support from the Roman people and clergy. The Roman nobility, however, despised him; his tenure as chancellor had been one of continual conflict and usurpation waged against the local aristocracy, by which Gratian attempted (with some success) to claim secular properties and revenues for the Church. As Adeodatus was on his deathbed, a delegation of Roman noblemen came before Constantine at Pavia and asked him to nominate a suitable candidate. The emperor’s suggestion was the Italo-Greek Abbot of Farfa, Philagathus of Rysianon [Rossano]. The urban prefect, Benedict II of Sabina, performed his duty as Constantine’s fixer and secured the abbot’s election as Pope Philagathus.[A] The election was not without incident; a popular riot compelled the election and subsequent coronation to be held in the Leonine City while the prefect’s soldiers held the bridge over the Tiber. A new Roman revolt might have been in the making, but it fizzled once Gratian himself gave his support to the new pontiff. Gratian was canny enough not to pick a fight he couldn’t win, and may have preferred to be the “power behind the throne” anyway. Philagathus returned the gesture of conciliation by maintaining Gratian as his chancellor.
The selection of Philagathus, one of Agatha’s favorites, was probably influenced by the dowager-empress. Constantine, however – who at that time was approaching his twentieth birthday – was becoming harder to control, and in the late 990s a definite friction began to grow between mother and son. Agatha had never been very keen on the match of her beloved daughter Helena with Otto, and Constantine seems to have hatched his Church-aided plan to return her to Germany without consulting his mother. Constantine now also had another woman in his life, the new Empress Adelaide; while in 998 she was only fifteen, she was a precocious and fiery teenager who acidly referred to her imperious mother-in-law as “that old Greek woman.” The most direct challenge to Agatha’s power, however, was her son’s determination to wrest control of the chancery, which had been Agatha’s exclusive domain since the death of Alberic. In late 998, Constantine appointed the papal librarian Gerbert of Aurillac as bishop of Brescia and in the following year promoted him to archicancellarius of the empire. It was an inspired choice; Gerbert, a Frenchman, was perhaps the greatest scientific mind in the Latin world at the turn of the millennium, and one could hardly do better for a chief administrator than the man who is alleged to have re-introduced the abacus to Latin Europe. It was also, however, a direct threat to Agatha’s own longstanding prerogatives in the government; not only had Constantine filled the position of archicancellarius, long left vacant by Agatha, but he had appointed a foreigner over whom Agatha had absolutely no influence or control. Even Constantine’s shift in administrative emphasis from Lucca to Pavia, usually assumed to be an attempt to consolidate power in Lombardy, may also have been intended as a means to pry the imperial administration away from Agatha’s favorites and clients in Lucca.
A Time of Barbarism
The victory of the Sicilian Muslims over Octavian at Salerno in 985 had seemed at first to be a great stroke of luck for the Byzantines, who were thus delivered from the man who seemed to be their most formidable oppressor. Salerno, plundered and depopulated, returned to local control but with substantial cessions to the Saracens. To maintain his rule, Prince John Lambert was compelled to surrender certain coastal fortresses, pay regular tribute, and allow the raiders to operate freely in his lands.[5] Duke Manso of Amalfi was a more willing collaborator, as his city-state did a brisk business with the lands of the infidels. As for the rest of Latin Italy, the defeat of the Sicilian fleet after the Battle of Salerno forced the Sicilians to turn their attentions elsewhere. While the Sicilians could and did rebuild their fleet, the naval forces of Pisa and Naples (particularly the former) were by this time formidable enough to make raids north of Amalfi too risky of a proposition.
So it was that, having driven off the Italian emperor, the Sicilians under Emir Abu al-Qasim almost immediately turned against Byzantine Italy. Virtually the entire province was subjected to systematic terror and rapine. Nearly every year from 986 to the end of the century was marked by some raiding expedition, only a few of which were recorded with any detail. The environs of Bari were raided in 988 and 992, and Taranto suffered the same in 991. Consenza resisted a siege around 990; so did Matera in 989, but that city was less fortunate the second time around and was captured and sacked in 994. Rhegion, at the “toe” of the Italian boot, was captured in 995 and retained by the Sicilians, although most of the residents were sold into slavery. Contemporary accounts attest to just how bad the situation was. A Byzantine monk in Calabria writing in the mid-990s lamented the “time of barbarism” which Langobardia had fallen into. In 994, a judge in Salerno sanctioned the sale of property by a child – which was normally illegal – on the apparent basis that normal law no longer applied in this “time of hunger.” Monks recorded bands of Christian renegades marauding alongside Saracen pirates in Lucania. If any of the Christians of southern Italy shared the millenarian expectations of Adeodatus, they may have positively welcomed the coming apocalypse.[B]
The “renegades” recorded by the monks were undoubtedly the product of a situation in which the Byzantine government, though it continued to exact heavy taxes on the people of the Catepanate (or at least attempted to), could not deliver even the most basic security in return. Imperial rule was so discredited that the city of Bari, the very capital of Langobardia, sided with the usurper Bardas Phokas in his rebellion against Emperor Basil II in the late 980s; its citizens rose up and murdered the loyalist protospatharios Sergius.[6] Basil ended up winning that war and Bari suffered an unspecified “retribution” in 989, but local rebellions – particularly by Lombard elites – continued to wrack Apulia. For the next decade, no katepano of Langobardia is recorded at all; instead, the government seems to have been in the hands of officers of the exkoubitoi, an elite guard unit of the imperial tagmata. Their presence confirms that there were at least some government troops present in Italy aside from local levies, but they were neither numerous nor very successful. Rebels managed to assassinate John, a senior official of the exkoubitoi, in 990, only about a year after the unit’s officials had assumed control over provincial governance. The province was virtually ungovernable, and Basil, occupied with an ongoing war against the Bulgarian Emperor Samuel, could do little about it.
Constantine in the South
In 998, after a year of little progress under Octavian of Rieti, Emperor Constantine decided to personally intervene in Capua and Benevento. The size of the imperial army and the threat of widespread plundering caused many of the local lords to switch sides. Pandulf was assassinated after a dispute with one of his own vassals, while his brother Landulf escaped to Melfi, where he was besieged and forced to surrender. Constantine did not greatly trust Crescentius, but the magister militum did have some local support and was probably a more capable client than Prince Atenulf, who had proved unhelpful even as a puppet. Constantine offered Atenulf a comfortable exile in exchange for his abdication, which the prince – possibly under some duress – accepted. Atenulf was given estates in Tuscany and Constantine installed Crescentius as Duke of Benevento. After this, the emperor entered Naples to obtain the fealty of Sergius III, who had succeeded his father Marinus II around 992. As it happened, however, Sergius had himself only recently died, and had nominated his younger brother John IV as his successor on his deathbed. Constantine took the opportunity to ceremonially invest John with the duchy. Although only a symbolic gesture, it suggested a higher degree of imperial control than either Octavian or Alberic had exercised over the southern Italian princes, who had merely offered recognition of imperial suzerainty and did not receive imperial investiture.
In 997, two Greco-Lombard brothers named Peter and Smaragdos had taken advantage of the chaos in the south and seized control of the Byzantine city of Oria, expelling its garrison and murdering Theodoros, a senior officer of the exkoubitoi. The brothers had preciously been exiled from their hometown of Bari, and now conspired to return there as rulers. They enlisted the aid of a Saracen commander which a Greek chronicle calls Busita (possibly a corruption of Abu Said) to help them eject the Greek garrison from the city, claiming that they preferred the rule of Saracens to that of the Greek Emperor. Smaragdos entered the city and opened a door in the city walls to the Saracens, who entered under the cover of night and captured the Apulian capital at a stroke.[C] “Busita” was an adventurer, not an emir, and after extracting his payment he left the city to Peter and Smaragdos. By the time Constantine appeared on the scene in the following year, this was not even the only outstanding rebellion in Apulia; a renegade exkoubitos named Theophylact had seized control of Gravina, while an obscure rebel movement under a certain Lucas had overthrown the local authority in upper Lucania and turned the Byzantine town of Triakon [Tricarico] into a nest of bandits.
With Constantine, the apple had fallen rather far from the tree. Raised and educated by his mother, a Byzantine princess, he was the first “philhellene” worthy of the name to bear the western imperial crown. While Octavian was at best semi-literate, Constantine could read and write in Latin and Greek. He does not seem to have viewed Basil or the eastern empire as an inveterate rival, nor did he share his father’s drive for conquest at the expense of the Byzantines. Yet he could not ignore the chaos on his border, which clearly troubled both Crescentius and John of Naples, and the recently-elected Pope Philagathus – although himself a Calabrian Greek – urged the emperor to fight the heretics in order to protect Christian lives and churches.
Although not yet willing to set foot on properly Greek soil, Constantine opted to invade Salerno, whose prince John Lambert had died in the previous year. His eldest living son and co-ruler, Guaimar III, had succeeded him and maintained the Sicilian “alliance.” Latin sources call Guaimar a coward who fearfully submitted to the Saracens, but this may be too cruel an assessment considering what had just befallen his capital city only eight years previously. As Constantine had no navy with him, Guaimar may have been able to hold out against a siege, but he made no attempt; he was grossly outmatched by the emperor’s army, and may have hoped that Constantine’s protection would be a viable alternative to continued subjection to the heathens. Constantine, however, had no intention of leaving Guaimar on the throne, and once the Italians controlled the city Prince Guaimar was deposed and packed off into a comfortable exile like Atenulf before him. His replacement was Constantine’s general Leo of Gaeta, who was installed as Duke of Salerno.[7] To bolster his own legitimacy in that new role, Leo married a Salernitan noblewoman named Sichelgaita shortly thereafter.[8]
The regime change in Salerno concluded Constantine’s campaign in 998, but Duke Leo made a vigorous attempt to reclaim the rest of his newly acquired duchy from the Saracens in the following year. With the aid of John IV of Naples, Crescentius of Benevento, and the Pisan fleet, Leo invested and stormed the fortress-turned-ribat of Akropolis, and the Pisans defeated a Sicilian relief flotilla. Leo then defeated a force of “pirates” near Polikastron, another Sicilian outpost, but for whatever reason the fortress itself was not taken. Another campaign was contemplated for the following year, but the situation in the south was about to grow more complicated, and the Sicilian base at Polikastron was allowed to survive a while longer.
Map of Italy and its neighbors in early 999. Striped areas in Byzantine Italy and
Croatia denote areas of active rebellion.
Next Time: In Samuel’s Shadow
Footnotes (In Character)
[1] 13th century Hungarian chroniclers claimed that this name was given to Alcinda in her lifetime by her adoring subjects out of respect for her piety and virtue. Most of those subjects, however, were pagans, and there is no hard evidence that the nickname was actually used by anyone before the 13th century. Intriguingly, the nickname also seems to have belonged to Stephen’s mother, Sarolt; her name (Šaroldu) translates as “white weasel” in Turkic, and she seems to have born the Slavic title of Beleknegini (“White Queen”). It may be that the 13th century chroniclers either confused the ownership of the nickname or purposefully appropriated it for Alcinda, as a title that implies purity must have seemed more appropriate for Alcinda than for Sarolt, whom the chroniclers maligned as a hard-drinking, murderous, and thoroughly un-ladylike pagan whose only redeeming quality was that she had given birth to Stephen. As these were probably the same chroniclers who forged a whole royal genealogy for Alcinda’s unknown mother to “prove” the queen’s descent from ancient Lombard kings, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that they might have also manufactured a title to further support the hagiographic image created of Alcinda as the embodiment of the purity and chastity expected of a devout Christian woman.
[2] Although only one of a number of patrons of brides, Alcinda is notable as being the only “patron saint of princesses” recognized as such by the Church.[D]
[3] Azus reportedly avoided death or mutilation because he was the elder brother of Rozala, the wife of Crescentius III, the eldest son of Crescentius the Younger.
[4] This, of course, is the military unit better known in English as the “Magyar Guard” or “Hungarian Guard.” Although the milites Ungarorum are often described as a “palace guard” in contemporary accounts, they were a functional fighting unit and by no means a mere personal guard or ceremonial outfit. Scholars have often drawn parallels between this fighting force and the famous “Varangian Guard,” established around this same time by Basil II and acquired in a similar manner (as a gift from a foreign ruler, in this case Vladimir of the Rus). It is possible that Constantine was emulating contemporary Byzantine practice, but it is also true that foreign bodyguards and “gifted warriors” of varying types were already known in the west, ranging from Slavs in German and Andalusian service to foreign-born housecarls or hirðmenn serving Scandinavian and English kings. Berengar and Hugh had both made use of Magyar mercenaries in Italy, although these were warriors paid for a specific campaign or season rather than serving as a permanent unit. The Magyar mercenaries in the early 10th century were also pagans, while Constantine reportedly required all of his milites Ungarorum to be baptized.
[5] John Lambert was originally the count-palatine and regent for Prince Pandulf II, a younger son of Pandulf Ironhead, but deposed Pandulf with popular support around 990.
[6] Another participant in that civil war was Kalokyros Delphinas, the catepan of Italy who had opposed Octavian. He was recalled from Italy in 985 and later joined the revolt of Bardas Phokas. While many officials who joined the rebellion were eventually reconciled with Basil, Kalokyros was one of the unlucky ones, and was captured and executed by either impalement or crucifixion.
[7] Notably, both Leo of Salerno and Crescentius “the Younger” of Benevento were invested by the emperor with the title of dux, not the title of princeps preferred by the native Lombard rulers. While the princely title, particularly in the formulation of dux et princeps, continued to be used internally by the dukes themselves (especially by Crescentius), imperial charters and other chancery documents acknowledge only dux. There seems to have been a concerted effort on the part of Constantine and his chancery officials to deprecate the princely title, which was closely associated with the independent Lombard rulers, in favor of a ducal title that implied significant autonomy (see: Spoleto) but not sovereignty.
[8] Sichelgaita, Leo’s wife, has often been assumed to have been a relative of John Lambert’s family or possibly even his daughter, as John Lambert’s wife was also named Sichelgaita. Nevertheless, no direct evidence of her parentage exists.
Timeline Notes (Out of Character)
[A] As mentioned in an earlier update, Philagathus was IOTL a Byzantine-supported antipope who took the papal name of John XVI. He was deposed by Otto III and savagely mutilated – he was blinded, his fingers were broken, and his nose, ears, and tongue were cut off. He died in 1001, a pitiful and broken captive in a German monastery. Luckily for him, he gets to be a real pope ITTL.
[B] Most of this is historical or nearly so. The 990s were a pretty awful time to be a resident of southern Italy. While the Sicilian emir had been killed at the Battle of Stilo against the Germans, the Sicilians still won the battle, and were able to continue their raids soon after. TTL’s Stilo-equivalent, the Battle of Salerno, did not even manage to kill the emir, so the Sicilians have suffered no leadership gap and have been even more effective.
[C] This is based on a documented event, but evidently “Busita” chickened out at the last minute and Bari was not captured. ITTL, my thought is that the marginally improved position of the Sicilians post-Salerno as compared to OTL makes Busita a little more confident. All indications are that Bari was a hotbed of sedition against the imperial government throughout the 980s and 990s, and it’s not impossible that many of its citizens may have shared the sentiments of Smaragdos and Peter that even a Saracen overlord was better than the imperial yoke.
[D] The patron saint of princesses IOTL is Adelaide of Burgundy, the widow of Lothair of Italy, who Otto the Great rescued from the grasp of Berengar II of Italy and took as his bride. ITTL, of course, Lothair lives much longer as the King of Provence, and Adelaide remains his wife and becomes the mother of King Hugh II. While she remains one of the most prominent women of the era, she is never recognized as a saint.
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You won't have to wonder long, as Venice will be a significant part of the next update.
Venice was indeed nominally Byzantine, but I've given it its own color so far to recognize its de facto independence and the fact that, at various points in this timeline, it has recognized Italian suzerainty as well. Whatever the formulas that were actually used, Venice's historical relationship to Constantinople during this time is probably more accurately described as "ally" than "vassal" or "client."
When it comes to Dalmatia, figuring out proper "ownership" at this time is a bit difficult. Formally it was a Byzantine theme/duchy, but in this period the title of dux Dalmatiae seems to have been typically possessed either by the Croatian king or the Venetian doge rather than being under a separate doux or strategos. It remained a Byzantine province on paper, however, so you could (and did) have a somewhat nebulous situation where the (independent) King of Croatia is simultaneously the holder of an imperial theme.
ITTL and IOTL, the Venetian doge acquires Dalmatia around 998-1000, but it's questionable whether the Venetians were "granted" that territory by Basil II as some Venetian sources allege or whether the Venetians took control of Dalmatia on their own initiative (made possible by the disorder in Croatia) and were merely recognized a little later as possessors by Basil. I've chosen to take the latter position. For now, the Dalmatian islands are still colored Byzantine purple in this 999 map instead of Venetian yellow, but you'll see the spread of Venice's pretty gold color on the next map's update. Quite honestly, though, I could have gone either way.
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How I could have lost this TL so far? Subscribed. Is so well balanced, because for being a mid-medieval Italy wank, still is an expansion with constant setbacks and slowly advances. And a lot of pain in the process.
Also, it is interesting how one of the lowest points ever of all of Italy, not only of the Papacy, such as the pornocracy turned to be the entire turning point, with a native dynasty which took the Italian Kingdom, destroyed the Papal State and snatched the Imperial crown from Germany.
Nobody noticed by the way this Roman Empire lost the Holy status and regained the Western adjective? That's a radical cultural shift - the Carolingian legacy died with Otto, here...
As Lucchese born, yay for the enduring power of the city TTL! Even if my heart lost a beat reading of Byzantine style built San Michele...
Cool to see how Italy is becoming for Hungary the cultural and religious beacon like Byzantium became for Kiev and Rus...
And I think interesting times will come when France and England will finally make steps in the European stage - from now they remained awfully quiet...
Also, it is interesting how one of the lowest points ever of all of Italy, not only of the Papacy, such as the pornocracy turned to be the entire turning point, with a native dynasty which took the Italian Kingdom, destroyed the Papal State and snatched the Imperial crown from Germany.
Nobody noticed by the way this Roman Empire lost the Holy status and regained the Western adjective? That's a radical cultural shift - the Carolingian legacy died with Otto, here...
As Lucchese born, yay for the enduring power of the city TTL! Even if my heart lost a beat reading of Byzantine style built San Michele...
Cool to see how Italy is becoming for Hungary the cultural and religious beacon like Byzantium became for Kiev and Rus...
And I think interesting times will come when France and England will finally make steps in the European stage - from now they remained awfully quiet...
Interlude: Naming the Empire
Naming the Italian state ITTL is a bit tricky.
The proper name of Constantine's empire, at this moment in this TL, is simply "The Roman Empire" (Imperium Romanorum), and the proper title for its emperor is "August Roman Emperor" (Imperator Augustus Romanorum). In many contexts, however, the emperors omit the "Roman" part and title themselves "Imperator Augustus," because to use the "Roman" part would be too offensive to the other Roman Emperor in Constantinople. Alberic cared about that because he wanted a marriage and good relations; Octavian cared a bit less about it, and towards the end of his reign started using "Roman" more. Constantine - at least so far - avoids using it because he's friendly (or at least wants to be friendly) with the east. The problem, of course, is that while you can remove "Roman" from the emperor's title and it's still serviceable, you can't remove "Roman" from the title of the state itself (or else you just get "empire.") Thus there's a rather strange situation where the emperor of the Roman empire doesn't actually call himself Roman Emperor in many contexts.
"Empire of Italy" is an anachronism, and only used on the map because otherwise there would be two states titled "Roman Empire;" nobody in Constantine's day would call his state "Imperium Italiae." The Byzantines at this time refer to Constantine as the Emperor of the Franks (Basileus Phrangias) or the Emperor of the Lombards (Basileus Langobardon), but the Italians obviously don't use those terms; "Emperor of the Franks" would be wholly inaccurate and "Emperor of the Lombards" implies that he rules only over the Lombards and not the Romans, Greeks, Franks, Slavs, etc. within the empire. "Empire of Italy" may be wrong, but it's not really any more wrong than "Byzantine Empire," which I use throughout the TL to avoid confusion.
The "holy" part of "Holy Roman Empire" is also an anachronism, as it wasn't added IOTL until the 12th century. It's possible the Tusculani emperors might invent that or a similar proprietary adjective for themselves, but it hasn't happened yet.
"Western Roman Empire" and "Eastern Roman Empire" seem like they would be good terms to sort this all out, and perhaps I should adopt them for the map, but as titles go they're just as anachronistic as "Empire of Italy." No contemporary Roman used those terms and ITTL both Constantine and Basil would be outraged by the suggestion that their imperial title was not universal in character. Things have changed since ancient times, and Basil and Constantine don't consider themselves equal and separate rulers of one universal empire (as the WR and ER emperors did back in the day). It's possible that could change, particularly now that Constantine and Basil are first cousins (!) descended from Constantine VII, but for the time being the easterners still consider the westerners to be "Franks" and "Lombards," not Romans, while the westerners still consider the easterners to be "Greeks" rather than true Romans.
At some point all this will probably become an issue, but state names simply aren't that important in 10th-11th century Europe. Most Latin European kings still title themselves after their people, e.g. "King of the Franks" (rex Francorum) and "King of the English" (rex Anglorum) rather than "King of France" and "King of England." In this age of personalized power, the ruler's title is much more important than the state's title. As long as his subjects recognize him as their emperor, Constantine doesn't really care what the official name of the state is.
As for the Carolingian legacy, the Tusculani still claim to have it - they are (since Octavian) descended from Carolingians, albeit rather distantly and through an illegitimate distaff line. (Octavian's mother was Gisela of Ivrea, who was the daughter of Ermengarde of Tuscany, who was the daughter of Bertha, the illegitimate daughter of King Lothair II of Lotharingia, himself a great-grandson of Charlemagne.) They very much consider themselves to be Charlemagne's successors, which is necessary for them to be viewed as legitimate in the Latin west. The fact that there is still a Carolingian king in France, however - an actual, male-line Carolingian - makes the Tusculani claim of Carolingian-ness sort of unimpressive, which impacts how they attempt to define themselves and justify themselves on the throne. It's also a harder legacy to claim because, unlike the German emperors IOTL, they don't control Aachen and the Carolingian heartland.
As the descendants of a minor Roman nobleman, the Tusculani are always a bit insecure about their own lineage. Alberic based his claim on military victory (vs. the Magyars) and his coronation by the Pope; Octavian stressed his Carolingian ancestry and behaved like a Frankish king; Constantine, as we will see, turns more to the east and emphasizes his eastern-imperial roots (but that doesn't mean he forsakes the Carolingian claim). All of them are searching for ways to present themselves as true Roman emperors.
Edit: I just realized I didn't directly answer Gonzaga's question about Latin recognition. I would say that the rest of Latin Europe does indeed recognize the Tusculani claim, or at least doesn't contest it; every western emperor since Charlemagne got that title by holding Italy and receiving it from the Pope, and the Tusculani are no less entitled to it than, say, Hugh or Louis the Blind or any of the other non-Carolingian reguli who held the imperial title before Alberic. That said, the authority of the emperor does not extend very far beyond Italy, and the French and German kings don't consider Constantine to have even the most nominal jurisdiction over them. (If anything the English kings, who are quite loyal to the Papacy, pay more respect to the Tusculani Emperors than the French or German monarchs do; but then, they're also much further away.)
I'm glad to have Italian readers! Feel free to point out anything I get horribly wrong, as I'm just an American with an interest in medieval Italy. I always like to find little interesting bits of history and architecture to tweak, and I'm glad you noticed that mention of San Michele!
For Hungary, it just makes sense - Italy, as the home of the emperor and the pope, is a source of legitimacy and authority, and unlike Germany it's not a threat to the Hungarian kingdom. That informs Stephen's policy, as well as the policies of his successors; as long as they can keep solidarity with Italy, they just might be able to hold back the much stronger German state. That alignment may not last forever, but it does mean that Hungary is going to be taking more of its cues from Italy than it did IOTL, which may also mean a more Byzantine-inflected Hungarian monarchy as Constantine's Italy becomes more eastward-looking.
France is a bit different thanks to a somewhat longer Carolingian survival, which I still haven't totally resolved yet, but they have yet to make much of an impact on Italian history. As for England, their history is so far largely unchanged, although I haven't yet decided if the butterflies from France are going to make the Norman Invasion disappear.
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It's possible that later writers in this TL could also use the phrase "Xn Roman Empire" so Italian Roman Empire and Greek Roman Empire. Especially if anything like the so-called 4th Crusade happens (in either direction!) and one of the Roman Empires is divided.
The issue of the normans would be interesting not only about Normandy and England, bit also over South Italy and Sicily... Personally I am of the opinion if the Normans and the Hauteville would arrive, and the Tuscolani found a way to coexist with them, it could be rejuvenating for Italy all. It could be the trump card for the unification of the peninsula TTL (Tuscolani pushing the Normans to seize Apulia, Calabria, Lucania and finally Sicily in exchange of a vague vassalage act with Rome and other privileges).
Then, it would be another matter for the Tuscolani to hold the Altavilla, but could offer interesting historical ramifications. Not counting an unification just before the period of OTL crusades would be intriguing...
But again, all depends how the Norman raids and migrations would happen TTL.
Then, it would be another matter for the Tuscolani to hold the Altavilla, but could offer interesting historical ramifications. Not counting an unification just before the period of OTL crusades would be intriguing...
But again, all depends how the Norman raids and migrations would happen TTL.
Absolutely. Afterall OTL that was what the Normans were supposed to be doing anyway but the Emperors could not vassalise them adequately.
The key would be to hold Sicily to last so that it is not a separate Kingdom although this may turn out to be the equivalent of OTL Norman Conquest of Italy if Apulia or someone conquers Sicily and holds it outside the Tusculani Kingdom & Empire. So I guess it would recognising that Sicily is within the Tusculani jurisdiction before/during any conquests.
I agree. Maybe if the island of Sicily remains under the muslims then the Tusculani might even help them getting it, but peninsular Italy it seems that is a private field for the emperors. I like the idea of Normans in Spain though. IOTL Galician nobles did invite William the Bastard to invade and fight the king of Leon.
Not necessarily... Campania is still a sore spot between Italians, Byzantines and Saracenes. Norman mercenaries could be still hired from the local lords of the region or for internal defense, or external aggression - Napoli, Amalfi, Salerno and Benevento can still have quarrels which to be settled could need still foreign manpower.