The Joust, A Prized Warhorse And The Horse Thief
(Byzantine Emperor Theophilos (r. 829-842), surrounded by dignitaries
of his court. Illustration from the Madrid Skylitzes (Fol. 42v), c. 12th
century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)
Fact can truly be more entertaining than fiction. John Skylitzes’
work, A Synopsis of Byzantine History:
811-1057, may have a dull title, but the history within—though sometimes
exaggerated—actually contains many a historically-based story that can rival
the best of fictional novels. Take, for instance, Emperor Theophilus (ruled
829-842 CE). Personally, John Skylitzes could not stand Theophilus because of
religious differences (Theophilus was the last Iconoclast Byzantine Emperor to
outlaw religious artwork and icons), but once the historian was done venting, he
wrote a hearty chapter about Theophilus’ imperial reign, and of all the highly
entertaining adventures therein.
(Theophilus еxecutes iconophiles, c. 12th century, from John Skylitzes,
[Public Domain] via Creative Commons)
For the most part, Theophilus is remembered as a decent
emperor. He excelled in governing, administrating, and establishing law and
order. The emperor was not a reclusive man; between sessions of court, he would
explore his capital, investigating the market and the docks, or just observing
his countrymen. He sent effective governors to manage his domain, and enlisted
highly competent ambassadors to interact with his neighboring countries. In
particular, his ambassador, John the Grammarian, whom he sent to Syria, was a
great success. While John served as a diplomat, he was well respected and liked
by the locals.
Theophilus was at his best when he was a peacetime emperor,
but for much of his reign, he was at war with the Abbasid Caliphate. If John
Skylitzes’ accounts of Theophilus’ battles can be taken for truth (though,
often chronologically confused), the emperor was, unfortunately, a poor military
leader. Nevertheless, he was able to stay alive and enjoy some success in war.
This was, however, mainly because of a few skilled officers he had in his employ.
Skylitzes often mentioned two men, Manuel and Theophobos, who advised the
emperor and led wings of his army. Theophilus, however, would often ignore
their advice, find himself surrounded in battle, and only survive because
Manuel or Theophobos would rescue the emperor from his military mistakes.
(Abbasid Caliph al-Mamun sends an envoy to Byzantine Emperor
Theophilos, from John Skylitzes c. 12th or 13th century, [Public Domain] via
Creative Commons)
For around a decade, Theophilus fought against the Abbasid
Dynasty. It all began in 830 CE, when the Caliph Ma’mun crossed into Roman
territory. The forces of Constantinople successfully defended against the
invasion, and pushed the Arab invaders back into their own sphere of influence.
Ma’mun, however, was soon replaced as caliph by his half-brother al-Mu’tasim,
who would prove much more capable of marching against Theophilus in battle. In
337, when the Abbasids were cleaning up a major rebellion, Theophilus seized
upon the chance to strike his foe when they were distracted. He invaded and won
himself territory all the way to Melitene, but Caliph al-Mu’tasim had already
crushed his rebellion and was preparing a response to Theophilus. Al-Mu’tasim
marched against Theophilus, defeated the emperor in a major battle at Dazimon
(one of the occasions the emperor allowed himself to be surrounded), and captured
the major cities of Ankara and Amorion.
Theophilus’ war efforts did little to help him gain glory,
but they did leave a legacy of two great stories that were remembered for
centuries and recorded by John Skylitzes—the story of the joust and the parable
of a soldier’s prized horse.
The Joust
(Horsemen joust c. 1200 – 1259 from the Historia Major of Matthew
Paris, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)
The tale of the joust likely occurred around 831 CE, when
Theophilus and his troops resisted an invasion from Caliph Ma’mun. In one of
the battles, the Roman emperor may have captured as many as 20,000 prisoners.
One of the prisoners in particular was a crowd pleaser—an
immensely strong horseman. Theophilus happily let the prisoner put on shows for
the crowd; the masses were impressed with the Abbasid horseman, but they were
even more impressed that their emperor was able to catch the man.
The horseman had a particular trick he displayed to the
amazed crowd—he would ride upon his horse while wielding two lances. Thephilus
and the people of Byzantium were all spellbound by the display of strength.
While everyone else was marveling at the horseman, a eunuch
named Theodore Krateros, who was a part of Emperor Theophilus’ entourage,
scoffed at what he saw. The eunuch denounced the act as mere showmanship and
without any real merit in combat. Krateros admitted he could not recreate the
feat of using two lances on horseback, but he rejected the strategy and claimed
that using two lances was foolish and in no way practical. Even more, he told
the rest of the emperor’s retinue that if given a steady horse and a single,
sturdy lance, he, himself, could defeat the Abbasid horseman in a joust.
The Emperor
Theophilus, who heard Theodore Krateros’ comments, challenged the eunuch to
live up to his bravado. According to John Skylitzes, Theophilus even threatened
to have Krateros executed if he could not defeat the horseman, but, again, Skylitzes
was no fan of Theophilus.
Theodore Krateros agreed to test his mettle against the horseman
with the dual lances. There is little description about the setting of the
joust; no mention of armor or the location of the bout was recorded.
Nevertheless, Krateros indeed climbed onto a steed, grabbed a lance, and
thoroughly knocked the strong Abbasid horseman from his mount. With the
eunuch’s words proven, Theophilus could only congratulate Krateros and bestow
him with a prize of praise and clothing.
The Emperor, The Horse, and the Horse Thief
(Byzantine cavalry driving the Arabs to flight, c. 12th or 13th
century, from the Madrid Skylites (Fol. 54v), [Public Domain] via Creative
Commons)
This parable-like story likely occurred around the time when
Theophilus and al-Mu’tasim were at war in the late 830s. Much like the last
tale, there were very few recorded names, and the plot, again, revolved around
a horseman.
One of the soldiers in Theophilus’ army was highly
distinguished, for he had in his possession a warhorse with all the qualities a
cavalryman could dream up. The horse was brave, loyal and exemplary in
strength, endurance and training. Understandably, other soldiers stared at the
prized horse with accumulating envy as they watched the horseman constantly
escape danger and death on the back of that horse.
Of all the men who were covetous of the model war horse, the
soldier’s commander had the most leverage and clout. The commander tried to buy
the horse for a more-than-fair price, but the soldier simply stated that the
horse was not for sale. When buying the beast failed, the commander tried to
force the soldier to part with the steed, using all of the pressures that a
military commander can apply to an underling. When the soldier still refused to
relinquish the horse, the commander leaked false charges to the governor,
causing the soldier to be wrongly discharged from the military.
Now, Theophilus makes his appearance in the story. The
emperor sent messengers throughout his realm requesting a magnificent horse to
be sent to the emperor’s stables for the emperor’s personal use. The commander,
either seeking favor with the emperor or revenge against the soldier, stole the
horse from the ex-soldier. He then sent the talented horse to the emperor, who
marveled over the magnificent mount.
Soon, the Romans of Byzantium found themselves at war with
the Abbasid Dynasty. The year was likely around 838 CE, when Caliph al-Mu’tasim
counter-attacked against Theophilus’ invasion. The emperor and his armies
needed as much manpower as they could find—as such, the soldier whose horse was
stolen was reenlisted into the military.
Without his horse, the soldier was a sad caricature of his
former self. Without his brave steed, he found danger ever harder to escape. In
one of the Byzantine Empire’s losses to al-Mu’tasim—either the Battle of
Dazimon or the sieges of Ankara or Amorion—the soldier could no longer escape death
without the aid of his horse and fell in the field of battle.
Though death is, physically, a singular event, the emotional
toll of death reaches far and wide in a web connected by love, friendship and
respect. Though the soldier lay dead in war-torn lands, his wife and children
remained safe in the empire’s interior. When word of the soldier’s death first reached
the new widow and her children, they could only think of grief and mourning,
but soon all the energy of the widow became directed toward her desire for
justice.
The widow pulled herself together, made sure her children
were cared for, and then determinedly marched to the capital to seek out
Emperor Theophilus. She was encouraged by the emperor’s reputation for
upholding justice and prosecuting crime. She found the emperor while he was
making his way to a church. When she saw him, she must have been rehearsing the
tragedy of her husband’s death, of the commander who stole the horse, and of
her husband who died without the brave mount to whisk him away to safety. As
she made her way to the emperor, however, she saw the horse he rode—the very horse
that belonged to her dead husband.
Seeing the emperor upon her husband’s old companion, she
flew into a rage. She rushed to the horse and clung to its harness and straps,
all the while shouting that the horse was hers, and slinging accusations that
the emperor was complicit in the death of her husband. Emperor Theophilus, more
shocked than angry, calmed the distressed widow and had her brought to his
imperial palace.
In the luxury of his home, the emperor gave the widow his
full attention as she laid out the whole sad story—the theft of the horse, the
death of the soldier, and the identity of the horse being the very one on which
the emperor had been riding. Theophilus acknowledged the plausibility of the
story, so he had her hide, then summoned the commander who had given the horse
to the imperial stable.
When the commander arrived, Theophilus questioned him about
the horse in a subtle probe of the man’s guilt or innocence. He asked of the
origin of the horse: Was it the commander’s or on loan from another? Was the
horse raised, bought, or commandeered? The commander answered that the horse
was his own property and maintained that specific angle during the entirety of
the questioning. When the interrogation was concluded, and the commander
remained adamant in his claim of ownership regarding the horse, Theophilus
signaled for the widow to approach. When the commander spotted the wife of the
dead soldier, he lost all composure and completely broke.
The commander collapsed before the emperor and confessed to
forcibly taking the horse from the soldier. With the truth revealed, he
groveled and begged at the feet of the emperor for mercy and forgiveness. Emperor
Theophilus did, indeed, spare the commander’s life, but he still held the man
responsible for the soldier’s death. The emperor, therefore, decreed that the
widow and the soldier’s children would be legally equals to the commander. The
commander, he decreed, also was required to care for the widow and the children
as if they were his own siblings. Theophilus even gave the widow a claim on a large
portion of the commander’s inheritance and estate. With the widow’s portion of
the man’s inheritance and property made clear, Theophilus then ordered that the
commander be removed from the military and exiled.
So ended the story of Theophilus, the soldier and the horse
thief. The tale demonstrated the sense of justice held by the emperor, and also
acted as a warning to envious people of power in his empire who may have been
tempted to use their lofty positions for unjust goals. Strangely enough, however,
the only loose end not tie up in the story was the fate of the coveted warhorse.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
thehistorianshut.com
Sources
- John Skylitzes. A Synopsis of Byzantine History: 811-1057, translated by John Wortley. Original text c. 11th or early 12th century. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
- https://www.britannica.com/biography/al-Mutasim
- https://www.britannica.com/biography/Theophilus-Byzantine-emperor
- http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Al-Mu'tasim
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