It is one of the innumerable proofs of the vitality of the East Roman system that this result came so slowly and succeeded so imperfectly. The latter part of the reign of Alexius seemed to revive the former glories of the Eastern Empire. The dynasty was firmly settled on the throne; the foreign enemies driven away or reduced to insignificance; the internal decay was too gradual to be readily perceived. On his death in 1118 Alexius handed on to his son an empire enlarged and peaceful. [Sidenote: John II., 1118–1143.] John II. Comnenus (1118–1143), called John the Good, was one of the best of Byzantine rulers. As vigorous a ruler and a better soldier than his father, his private character, stainless in its morals, was marked by qualities, such as frankness, generosity, and mercy, which rarely adorned the throne of the Eastern Cæsars. He reigned undisturbed by revolts or conspiracies, save those of his sister Anna, the historian, and his brother Isaac, and these foes within his household received from him a generous forgiveness that they did nothing to deserve. John was mostly occupied in his constant campaigns on the frontiers, fighting the Patzinaks of the lower Danube, the Hungarians and the Servians in Europe, and the Seljukian Turks and the Armenians in Asia. Master of Cilicia, he forced Raymond of Antioch to acknowledge his supremacy. Only his death in Cilicia, due to an accident in the hunting field, prevented his invasion of the Latin kingdom of Syria. Had he seriously grappled with the reform of administration and the finances, he might have inaugurated a new period of prosperity. But his effort to shake off the commercial supremacy of Venice involved him in a long and unsuccessful war with the rulers of the sea, which he was glad to end by restoring the Venetians to their former privileges, and by recognising them as lords of some of the Greek islands. Even as it was, John the Good did much to arrest decay.

Manuel I. Comnenus (1143–1180), John’s son and successor, was a worthy heir to the military talents of his father. But his violent passions sullied his private life, and his extravagance, ostentation, and vanity took away from the lustre of his domestic administration. He was one of the most Western in temperament of all the Greek sovereigns. He was proud of his prodigious personal strength, of his handsome person, and of his skill in all chivalrous exercises. He was the only Greek Emperor who could surpass the most famous knights of the West in the mimic war of the tournament. He had the spirit of a knight-errant, suggesting Richard Cœur de Lion rather than the sly and demure Oriental. When he had safely extricated himself from the perils of the Second Crusade [see page 192], he plunged into a series of wars in which he sought personal glory rather than the welfare of his Empire. There were strange tales of his wonderful personal adventures and hairbreadth escapes from Patzinaks and Turks. He introduced Western tournaments into Constantinople, had a truly Frankish ardour for crusading, re-armed his troops after the Western fashion with ponderous shields and heavy lances, and eagerly sought to connect himself by marriage with the great royal houses of the West. His first wife Bertha—called Irene to satisfy Greek susceptibilities—was a sister-in-law of the Emperor Conrad III., and his second wife was a princess of Antioch. His daughter married in succession the brother of the King of Hungary and the son of the Marquis of Montferrat. His son, Alexius, was wedded to the daughter of Louis VII. of France. His influence extended over all the Danubian states as far as the German frontier. His wars, if not always politic, were often successful. He defeated the strenuous attempts of King Roger of Sicily and his son William the Bad [see page 236] to invade his Empire. He waged a long and not inglorious war with Venice, and even when unable to destroy her privileges did something to counterbalance them by calling in rival Italian traders, such as the Genoese. When beaten by the Seljuks, he was able to negotiate an honourable peace. But his wastefulness brought the financial disorders to a crisis, and his utter neglect of routine threw the obsolete administrative system into confusion. Yet with all his faults he was a brilliant personality, and with his death the good fortune of the Comnenian dynasty came to an end.

The Empire and the Papacy 918-1273 — Part 203