Part LXVII: Winning the Peace
The first priority when the executions stopped was to reward those who had remained loyal, and to do so in ways that wouldn’t be too harmful to the Emperor’s interests. To this end Maria Minor, Manuel eldest daughter, was married to Ali Umayos, a match only slightly slowed by the fact Ali was already married. Gregorios, now returned to Constantinople granted an annulment on flimsy pretexts, and the pair were married almost before the ink was dry on his order. I should also note here that through a fluke of lineage Ali was the last surviving male descendant of Khosrow VI, the Persian prince who had once fled across the border into Armenia to escape the armies of Khorasan.
This will be important in about three hundred years.
The Magyar leader Bela was made Strategos of Moesia, and granted all the power which came with that office, and as a further bonus his daughter Sarolt was married to prince John.. He was not however granted the lands of the former Strategos, who was now dead. The Emperor kept those for himself, and supported Bela’s household and staff from out of those estates himself. Similar stories were repeated across Greece and Anatolia, as the Emperor steadfastly refused to give up any lands he had confiscated, preferring instead to settle his soldiers on them and tax the new farmers.
Modern scholarship looks as this as essentially feudalism imported from Western Europe, and it is easy to see why. These farmers were bound to the land, and their families carried both financial and military obligations for its use. Additionally, the Emperor took on responsibilities previously handled by the magnates, assuring these landed subject a certain minimum income from their land, which he would pay out should their harvests fail whether from storm, drought, or other disaster.
In essence Manuel made himself the magnate of the Empire, to whom all others paid rents. All in the same form of taxation which still marked the Roman Empire as unique in the West. Additionally, the warehouses and plantations that produced the sole source of silk in the West were now once again under the direct rule of the Emperor, who set about expanding production as quickly as possible, and exporting it for sale. In this he saw even more profit than might have otherwise been expected, because in the East Daquin was racked by what seemed to be endless internal strife, and silk production there had plummeted.
For a time then Constantinople was the primary source of silk for the entire trade network that stretched into the East. For a short time, gold flowed in the direction of Europe rather than endlessly away.
Also helping the Emperor’s financial outlook was that something approaching two-thirds of his debt had been held by people who had then rebelled, and as might be imagined none of that was being repaid. The remaining four million nomismata was a significant amount, but far more manageable. With the increased revenue coming from the Emperor’s new lands annual revenues exceeded ten million nomismata for the first time ever, and will only dip below that amount twice in the coming century.
Facilitating collection Manuel brought back to power an old organization, the epikroi. This group had long fallen out of Imperial favor, and had been corrupted by bribes and incompetence since its initial founder died. Manuel and Maria however were intent on getting the office back into shape.
The number of officials was expanded, from about one hundred to well over one thousand. Each of these were handpicked men from the palace over a period of nearly a decade, and acted in small groups that rotated with each assignment. They were well-paid and loyal men, who could be counted on to support the Emperor’s interests in their assigned provinces. The primary task initially was working out how much each parcel of land was actually worth, and levying taxes accordingly. That said, the Emperor’s new role as the greatest magnate also required some leeway on their part, since tenants hit badly by disaster would need to have their taxes eased, eliminated, or even paid back depending on the scale of problems. When major disasters struck this had the unfortunate effect of basically paying back an entire year’s revenue back to the area.
As the Emperor and Empress focused on their work their public appearences lessened, and then ceased. In their place their children performed the ceremonial duties of their parents. The rulers themselves withdrew from public life entirely, which will be mimicked by their successors. It is here then that the former role the Emperor, as the center of public life that had existed since sometime after the fall of the West ended
The Basileos had spent hundreds of years leading religious processions, overseeing chariot races and games of tzykion, and engaging in public ceremonies all across the capital. But under Manuel this ended. His people saw him seldom, and when they did it was in his full majesty atop the Imperial throne on its hydraulic lift as they lay in supplication in front of him. He towered over them, and expected total submission before any judgement or grant was given. Only his family and a few select men were allowed to meet personally with the Emperor without these measures in place.
Top of that list was Gregorios, who had taken the opportunity after the rebellion to once again stir up religious trouble in the city. After yet another encounter that had nearly spiraled into a riot Manuel made Gregorios the bishop of Rome and sent him out of the city, with strict instructions not to spark yet more trouble in Italy. As a token that Imperial favor did still rest with the bishop however he remained Ecumenical Patriarch, and for a time at least the title of Pope and Patriarch were unified. Gregorios will die in 1050, but his successor will carry on the unified title, until the Patriarchy is finally put to rest entirely by Julius II and his Italians.
And since we have now reached the time that Manuel’s children truly enter our picture, we should introduce the others.
We have previously discussed the two eldest. Prince John was Manuel’s oldest son, and dutifully loyal to his father. He had proven his loyalty when he led his men against his supposed allies, and from there had gone on to be the Emperor’s man through and through in the years that followed. It was on John that most ceremonial duties fell. He led the processions which began mass, and he oversaw public games and celebrations. He also led a number of small campaigns in Moesia against Pecheneg raiders. John’s Magyar marriage was deeply unhappy, and he and his wife spent little time together. They did however still have three children as both knew the responsibilities of their union. These children were Eudoxia, Leo, and Helena.
The second child was Maria Minor, now married to Ali Umayos. Umayos had left his lands in Syria to his brother and moved to the capital with his wife by 1045, and to these two was given significant landed holdings in southern Italy taken from the last rebel holdouts who had surrendered there when word came of Constantinople’s fall.
As part of Manuel’s project of settling his children across the Empire as local powerholders he them take on separate family names. Maria and Ali adopted as their family name the title used by Imperial princes, Caesar. As both spoke primarily Greek they thus called themselves the Kaiseroi.
As their descendants settled into Italy however they adopted Latin, and with it the name changed, to the Caesarii. Anyone who’s been paying attention or reading ahead knows just how important the descendants of Maria and Ali will be.
Also granted land there I would add was a young man from Eastern Anatolia who took the name of his home as his family name, Castominos. Later this would become Castominos, and be the founder of my own family, though it wasn’t until the Caesarii rose to Imperial power that our family would truly begin its rise in Italian politics.
The third child was Helena, who entered a convent and so we will not deal with.
Fourth was a son, Mattias. He at this point was only seven, having been born in 1038. He will eventually take up a position in Antioch, and adopt the name Amyroi, from a Greek adoption of an Arabic word, for his own family.
Fifth was another son, Manuel, now five years old, who will marry an Armenian noblewoman and settle in the Caucuses, founding a city named Manueliopolis, after both his father and himself. He will have a single daughter before dying of a plague that swept the Mediterranean in the 1060s. That daughter will marry into a local family, the Guaramoi.
Sixth was now but an infant, young George, still an infant, who will marry into a Spanish family and settle in Baetica.
Last was Theodora, who will unfortunately die in infancy, the first of the Emperor’s children to predecease her father.
I should also note now that it was at this time that Manuel officially adopted the moniker Thalassoi for the family, after his first Imperial ancestor who had come to power “from the sea”. So, we’re finally out of the highly anachronistic territory of referring to the Thalassan dynasty by that name. But as there is no other word used before this, I chose to stick with convention.
In 1050, Manuel turned his attention to his next big project, rebuilding the Hagia Sophia. The great cathedral had fallen into disrepair over the past century, and especially in the last fifty years. Damage and neglect had piled up, and the massive dome that set atop the top of the Church had cracked in 1049, leading to the church to be closed. This was of course completely unacceptable to the Emperor. He might have withdrawn from public life, but the Church was a central piece of Imperial propaganda. It was the Emperor’s great house built to God. Having it in such a state was both embarrassing, and also rather dangerous. Manuel’s entire power base was built on his clear divine favor.
Also, giving the perpetually cyclical workers of the Empire something to work on would keep them too busy to plot treason.
The church had to be repaired, and quickly. Architects were brought in from across the Empire. Arabs, Greeks, Egyptians, Italians, Africans, and Goths were all gathered to begin the massive project. Thousands of people were hired to do the labor necessary to get the project finished. The scale of the project rivaled that of the initial building of the Church, as Manuel also decided he wanted the building expanded to mark not just that the Empire was as pious as it had been in Justinian I’s day, but moreso. The main building itself was significantly expanded, but the main changes happened in the building’s surroundings. New chapels, gardens, small prayer rooms, and other important additions were made. New artwork was commissioned, and the ceiling of the building was painted to reflect the sky, as if one was looking into heaven itself.
Naturally the old iconic decorations were nowhere to be found when the project completed. The only statues left were those of Christ, the Emperors, and a few statues of Mary holding the infant Christ. And if some of the Imperial statues were remarkably similar to old statue of saints, well no one need mention it.
The project took eight years, longer than the building’s initial construction, and cost a fortune. By Manuel’s own accounts he spent almost twenty-million nomismata on the project. Which sounds huge, and it is, but amounts to only about two and a half million gold coins per year. By contrast Justinian’s initial construction taking about six years took over thirty million gold coins, or five million per year. And his revenues were less than half what Manuel’s were. So yes, the Hagia Sophia restoration was a massive undertaking, but it was one that the Empire could afford. Sadly, the construction would for the Emperor be bittersweet. Two days before the building opened to the public his wife, the Empress Maria came down with a fever. The Emperor did not attend the festivities as he remained by his wife’s bedside all day, before she died early that night. Maria was 57 years old and had been Empress and indeed co-Emperor in all but name for 41 years. She had deftly steered the state's finances for her husband's wars, and managed adminstration with great skill and finesse, and for that the Emperor was deeply indebted to her. She had six children who survived her, all of whom were personally stable, friendly, and pious.
Maria’s death was a grievous blow the Manuel, and one from which he never really recovered. He will pull back from public appearances entirely after she was gone, and will in time leave the city entirely, settling in a palace outside Chalcedon he will have built in the coming years. His children will take even more control over the Empire, and in time their arrangement will be formalized and solidified as we will take a look at next time when we discuss the beginning of the late Thalassan Imperial organization, the Exarchates.
