Clinging to a rugged hillside in the lush valley of Sparta lies Mistra, one of the most dramatically beautiful Byzantine cities in Greece, a place steeped in history, myth, and romance. Following the Frankish conquest of the Peloponnese in the thirteenth century, William II of Villehardouin built a great castle on a hill near Sparta that later came to be known as Mistra. Ten years later, in a battle in northern Greece, Villehardouin was defeated and captured by the Byzantine emperor. The terms for his release included giving Mistra to the Byzantine Greeks. Under their rule, the city flourished and developed into a center of learning and the arts and was a focal point for the cultural development of Europe. Sir Steven Runciman, one of the most distinguished historians of the Byzantine period, traveled to Mistra on numerous occasions and became enchanted with the place. Now published in paperback for the first time, Lost Capital of Byzantium tells the story of this once-great city―its rise and fall and its place in the history of the Peloponnese and the Byzantine empire.
A King's Scholar at Eton College, he was an exact contemporary and close friend of George Orwell. While there, they both studied French under Aldous Huxley. In 1921 he entered Trinity College, Cambridge as a history scholar and studied under J.B. Bury, becoming, as Runciman later commented, "his first, and only, student." At first the reclusive Bury tried to brush him off; then, when Runciman mentioned that he could read Russian, Bury gave him a stack of Bulgarian articles to edit, and so their relationship began. His work on the Byzantine Empire earned him a fellowship at Trinity in 1927.
After receiving a large inheritance from his grandfather, Runciman resigned his fellowship in 1938 and began travelling widely. From 1942 to 1945 he was Professor of Byzantine Art and History at Istanbul University, in Turkey, where he began the research on the Crusades which would lead to his best known work, the History of the Crusades (three volumes appearing in 1951, 1952, and 1954).
Most of Runciman's historical works deal with Byzantium and her medieval neighbours between Sicily and Syria; one exception is The White Rajahs, published in 1960, which tells the story of Sarawak, an independent nation founded on the northern coast of Borneo in 1841 by the Englishman James Brooke, and ruled by the Brooke family for more than a century.
The Remains of Mistra, From the Foot of the Mountain
Steven Runciman's (1903 - 2000) Mistra: Byzantine Capital of the Peleponnese first appeared in 1980 and was resurrected in 2009 by Harvard University Press as The Lost Capital of Byzantium with a completely superfluous foreword by John Freely, making available again one of the few histories of a very interesting side chapter of Europe's past, one which I knew nothing about until recently.
Runciman was one of the great, second generation modern historians of Byzantium, the point around which all of his work circled. He famously wrote that the Crusades were more an invasion of Byzantium than an invasion of the Islamic Middle East. In any case, the infamous fourth Crusade in which avaricious western Christian knights sacked the capital of eastern Christianity, Constantinople, at the instigation of Constantinople's competitor, Venice, perfectly conforms to Runciman's view.(*)
One of the consequences of this crusade was the occupation of much of Greece by Frankish lords. In particular, through a series of accidents two sires of Champagne, Geoffroi de Villehardouin and Guillaume de Champlitte, saw an opportunity in 1205 and conquered much of the Peleponnesos with no more than 600 men. The residents were unused to war and were fed up with their former Byzantine lords. In the sole large engagement, where the Franks were outnumbered 10 to 1, the Greeks were crushed by the first charge of the Frankish heavy cavalry, wherein knights in full body armor weighing as much as a man were mounted upon hugely powerful steeds bred for precisely such a task.
Guillaume soon died of illness and Geoffroi became the Prince of Achaea, consolidating Frankish control of all of the Peleponnesos and building strongpoints where he thought advisable. The Peleponnesos was divided into a strict feudal hierarchy with the Church and the Venetians getting their big pieces. Runciman describes the complicated politics of this new Principality, recognized by the Pope. The religious situation was complicated also, with the Latin churchmen taking the high positions and the administration into their control but leaving the parish churches in the hands of the native Orthodox priests, who continued celebrating the Eastern rites.
Old French was spoken at the Frankish court, into which the rest of the Frankish culture was transplanted, including its architecture. But the Franks were few and the Greeks were many. Soon there were little gasmoules, the local name for the half-caste offspring, running around and growing up. The children of the knights and noblemen maintained their language and culture for a time, but those of the foot soldiers spoke Greek and were culturally absorbed into the population right away even though they had blond hair and blue eyes. It was not long before even the offspring of the de Villehardouins were speaking Greek, but a unique Frankish-Greek cultural synthesis had already begun to emerge. In the near future I'll write on one of the aspects of this synthesis we can still enjoy - the literary.
Geoffroi died in 1218, replaced by his eldest son, Geoffroi II, an enlightened and capable prince. At his death in 1246 his brother, Guillaume, became Prince. Guillaume was ambitious and significantly extended his principality in the midst of great international turmoil.(**) There were three different remnants of Greek Byzantium, the ever shrinking Latin Byzantium, the Bulgarians and the Turks, all fighting each other over the big prize - Constantinople. In the confusion, Guillaume made some mostly successful moves.
But in the summer of 1259 he was outmanoeuvred politically and militarily in a battle against the Nicaean branch of the Greek Byzantines, headed by "Emperor" Michael Palaeologus. Guillaume was captured and held by the Byzantines for a few years. In the meantime, Palaeologus took Constantinople in 1261 and the quotation marks could be dropped. As part of the negotiations for Guillaume's release, the two-headed eagle of the Palaeologus family flew over the ramparts of Mistra.
Within a year, the Byzantines and Franks were fighting again. And matters were complicated further by the rise of Charles d'Anjou and Emperor Michael's troubles with the Turks and Bulgarians. Runciman explains all of this thoroughly, but I'll just say that the Franks' influence in the Peleponnesos waned as that of the Byzantines waxed. Ultimately, the Emperor declared the Peleponnesos to be under the aegis of the Despotate of the Morea, and it remained so until the Ottoman invasion of the Morea in 1460.
Mistra served as the capital of the Despotate, and because the Despots were usually members of the Palaeologus family (indeed, for a time the Despot was the most likely man to become the new Emperor when the necessity arose), Mistra enjoyed more than a century of brilliance and grandeur before the Turks arrived. Under their dominion Mistra declined into insignificance, as Runciman describes with regret in the last two chapters.
Unfortunately for my personal tastes, Runciman's history is almost exclusively political, whereas I prefer social, economic and cultural histories. My eyes begin to cross when I must read about the struggles for power between a gaggle of close relatives. There is much of that in this book. But there is a lovely chapter describing the city itself with illustrations and a chapter on the brief period when Mistra was the philosophical center of the Eastern Christian world.
It was news to me that Giorgios Gemistos Plethon, the neo-Platonist who famously was the seed of the Italian Renaissance and was called the second Plato throughout the Christian world, was active primarily in Mistra instead of Constantinople. Nor did I realize the degree to which the man was heretical. Towards the end of his life he advocated a return to the ancient Greek gods. So you know who is going onto my TBR list.
Runciman, an historian famed for a particularly graceful prose style, does not disappoint in that respect in this little book, an homage to a place with which Runciman had a strong personal connection. But I wish the emphasis were not so heavy on the political history...
(*) Even more reprehensible than the fourth Crusade was the Albigensian Crusade. But more about that some other time.
(**) He also constructed a fortress on a mountaintop around which, on the mountain's steep sides, a city accumulated, a city called Mistra (or Mystras) - see above.
quick summer read on a specific spot, Mistra, Greece. Once confused not that long ago as the remains of Sparta herself, it was instead the capital of some Byzantine despots in the waning years of their reign in that world when Crusades raged in the Mediterranean and most of the protagonists did 'holy battle' for greed and called it something else. Spiritual purity and cultural continuity were what was fought over here until it was sacked in 1770 and again in 1824 as an outpost, one of a string of overcome 'hinterlands'. But in the home of George Plethon in the 1st half of the Fifteenth century, Mistra was a hotbed of Renaissance ideas, sparking the knowledge and awareness of Hellenic studies and culture to a western Europe hungry for such 'new' ideas. Mistra turns out to be a focus of ancient collected wisdom a generation or two before the west caught on that that was where it was at...
Historia de uno de los últimos núcleos de los Rhomanoi/Bizantinos. Mistrá fue un importante centro político e intelectual en los siglos posteriores al saqueo de Constantinopla por los cruzados y Runciman nos cuenta su evolución de forma amena atendiendo no sólo a su importancia política si no también a su influencia intelectual (Especialmente marcada en la Italia Renacentista con personajes como Jorge Gemisto, alias Pletón)
An excellent account on the rise and fall of Mistra, the lost jewel of the vale of Sparta, long thought to be none other than the contemporary shape of Lacedaemon. A wonderful tale indeed, of which, alas, little can be found today save for peaceful ruins under the Peloponnesian sun and, as Runciman puts it "mostly peopled by figments of the imagination."
"But for those to whom history is not just a matter of dry and dusty records" he goes on saying "the imagination offers a splendid choice, whether it be of warriors or artists, of gracious ladies or learned philosophers, of the Villehardouin lords reveling in the loveliness of the countryside, of the dark-bearded Despots in their ceremonial robes discussing with their architects and artists how to add to the city's glories [...] or just of the simple craftsmen and artisans, and the peasants coming in to the market, whose descendants we may still see driving their goats through the steep and narrow alleys, while behind them are the peaks and chasms of Taygetus and spread out before them the incomparable beauty of the hollow vale of Sparta."
This books is not what I expected. It is very interesting and encourages me to read more by Runciman. I just ordered his books on the Crusades.
I would not call this book essential reading, it covers the time period, more or less, from AD 1000 - 1800; the focus of the reporting period, however, is from 1200 - 1450 and then 400 years are covered more generally in the final chapters.
I learned that the Venetians had immense control in the Peloponnese at this time, but that once Constantinople lost power, the Turkish Empire quickly rushed into the area.
There are a lot of details about who ruled in the Peloponnese, but the information is presented very quickly, making this short book kind of a tough read without much story telling. But I liked it.
The first three chapters, and the epilogue, were fascinating. In between are 100 pages of good history, but bad writing. It’s a blur of names. He can introduce twelve new characters in a single paragraph (I counted), and never mention any of them again. He literally drops a new name every second sentence in some chapters.
Most of the book isn’t actually about Mistras, but rather about the endless battles and intrigues between Franks and Turks and Venetians and Greeks in the wider Peloponnesus.
There’s a great story here; one day I hope a great writer tackles it.
Sir Steve is always great, probably a bit dated now, but this is a good read. Perhaps not what you would call an immersive history but close to the ground enough that you get a sense of the personalities and ideas of what lingered of Byzantium in the mists of Mystras.
A short, lucid account of the Mediaeval history of a region which fell to wayside of history during Late Antiquity, and even now is yet to recover its lost prominence. Being Runciman, of course, the quality of the narrative and the scholarship are as expected. Of particular note is a focus towards the end on the philosopher Plethon, which may well have contributed to the current interest in this facinating character from the likes of Anthony Kaldellis and Niketas Siniossoglu.
Mistra is an obscure ruin located on a hill near the fragmentary remains of Sparta. It obviously charmed Steven Runciman, the historian of Byzantium and the Crusades, who writes that in Mistra "one reaches a world...peopled by fragments of the imagination. But, for those to whom history is not just a matter of dry and dusty records, the imagination offers a splendid choice, whether it be of warriors or artists, of gracious ladies or learned philosophers, of the Villehardouin lords revelling in the loveliness of the countryside, or the dark-bearded Despots in their ceremonial robes discussing with their architects and artists how to add to the city's glories, or to the great philosopher Plethon himself talking to his pupils, while the Lady Cheope leaned in from her litter as she passed."
The record of Mistra is as piecemeal as its ruins, but Runciman does a fine job outlining the vicissitudes of Mistra's dynastic scions, the second sons of greater rulers reigning in Constantinople, Venice and Napoli. At times the labyrinthine succession of names can be overwhelming, but Runciman is a master of narrative and his love for Mistra and the Peloponnese shines through the occasionally confusing passages.
Mistra was never more than a provincial capital, but this love-letter to its storied past shines grandeur on its weathered stones.
This monograph is mostly a narrative account of what would probably be more understandably expressed by a time line and a family tree. The narrative is difficult to follow because of the many actors at work at any given point, none lasts for more than a few pages, making the lasting impression of this book for me little more than an unintelligible jumble names and places.