At
the forty-day μνημόσυνον after Cleofe's death on 18
April 1433, the intellectuals of Mistra came together to give
their monodies. The four monodies that we have (there is a fifth, one
page and negligible) are long, often moving, and indirectly full of
information. I have been interested lately in their view of Cleofe as
a political figure.
She
was obviously a great help to Theodoros, and apparently participated
in discussions with his advisors. Her
doctor, Pepagomenos,
spoke as if she were still present among them:
For
there was nothing that was not communicated to your judgment and thus
some difficult problems were solved, while matters of greater moment,
of holy governance and of the (soul’s) ascent were determined by
the superiority of your virtue.
Nikeforas
Cheilas, about whom we know nothing, provides a little more
information, though not enough:
She
was not, in her mind, in competition with women, even as she worked
to surpass the best of them, both ancient and modern, but although
she was counted among women, she possessed a truly masculine
intelligence, adorning her spirit with gentleness, adorning the
constitution of her character with the guidance of philosophy and the
practice of all the virtues and graces, and presenting herself as one
belonging to a royal race . . . In the midst of turmoil, when present
among the imperial councilors she gave virtuous advice of every sort
and made herself available to help everyone . . .
This
was not in itself exceptional: political participation was a normal
activity of Palaiologan and Malatesta women. Much more striking is
the fact that -- allowing for exaggerations implicit in imperial
eulogy -- she was regarded as so valuable that George
Gemistos used the word "salvation" (τήν
τῆς ἀρετῆς ἄχρι τελευτῆς σωτηρίαν)
in speaking of what her virtue had done for them.
The
men don't tell us much. Apart from that
brief mention of her political skills, Cheilas spoke of her great
generosity, Bessarion referred to her philanthropy and patronage --
but of what he fails to tell us. Pepagomenos was a little more
specific, speaking of her great concern for the poor, visiting them
in their hovels, bringing them firewood and cooking for the sick.
(One wonders how a Malatesta-Palaiologina learned anything about
cooking.) He also suggests that her arrival -- after twenty-five
years of no imperial woman in the palace -- much improved the lives
of women there and made it possible for a number to be married.
This,
though is the kind of behavior to be expected of the women of her
family, all of them tremendously educated and given extensive
political authority -- her sister Paola Gonzaga of Mantua, her
sister-in-law Battista Montefeltro Malatesta of Pesaro, their cousin
Elizabeth Malatesta of Rimini. In the well-ordered court of the early
Renaissance, the ruler's wife was the social security and public
assistance administrations.
This,
though, is not what Pepagomenos was talking about when he said:
The
queen of the Romans is dead, the very eye of the people, the shared
ornament of the inhabited world, the steadfast pillar, while all our
present fortune totters. How the death of our queen has
turned the expectations of the Romans upside down and has left none
of the hopes of our race intact. The bond of union of the monarchy is
gone, all is dead and nothing remains, not just of the present for
the Romans but of what is to come as well, and it persuades us to
prophesy the worst and to expect no end of distress. This horror has
run through us like a thunderbolt, burning everything out and turning
it to ash, threatening never to give up possession until it consumes
all of what is left of the Romans. All the
best for us came with your settling among us, and our congenital
misfortune has taken away all this, and more besides, in your being
gone from us in such an unnatural way.
This
conveys -- again allowing for rhetoric -- an extraordinary sense of
the doom that must have saturated the educated of that culture, if
not the general population. Theodoros had, ten years earlier,
unsuccessfully tried to give away to Venice the Morea that he could
not defend, and his brother had given the Venetians Thessalonike
which they could
not defend either. A generation earlier, Adam of Usk reported that
Greeks whom he had met in Rome told him that "their empire is
almost worn out by the attacks of Turks and Tartars," and
Kydones had written Manuel Kantakuzenos as early as 1353 that the
Byzantines could not ultimately withstand the Turks.
Pepagomenos
kept returning to the idea of doom:
What
greater disaster might come than what has destroyed the whole world
of the Romans . . . leaving behind sorrow not only to us, her
subjects, but to all who are accounted as Roman.
How
was it that Cleofe was seen, even rhetorically, as the Byzantine’s
sole bulwark against the Turks? The sources give us no way to answer
this question. How was it that Pepagomenos could conclude his monody
with this statement?
It
would be in your power, either with your prayers to the divine, as
you stand immediately beside God, to alleviate the distress of our
ruler, and through this the misfortune of the entire Roman
people---you can do this, I know, with a mere nod of assent---or to
leave us to mourn and lament throughout life, as long as the sun
sends its rays over the earth.
Cleofe
in the position of both Zeus and the Virgin is a stunning image!
ZeusNational Museum, Athens
The Cretan icon is signed Κὺρ Πακσύου ΑΨΙ μαεον η ετελιοθη το παρον - This was completed 8 May 1710 by Kyr Paskuos.
My great appreciation to Pierre A. MacKay for the translations of the monodies. The monodies can be found here.
Thanks for posting the primary docs! I am currently working on the Funeral Oration for Bessarion written by Michael Apostolis. Little did I know until I read Plethon's monody that Apostolis cited (nearly verbatim) Plethon's peroration, where he discussed the immortality of the soul. Further, your post here on Pepagmenos shows further similarities in the language and tropes used to praise/mourn Bessarion. I doubt that Apostolis was present for these services as he would have been quite young, but wonder whether he too had spent time in Mistra and saw copies of these monodies, acquired copies from Bessarion, or had them from another source. Any thoughts?
ReplyDeleteWrite me off-line. Be sure to read Margaret Alexiou's AFTER ANTIQUITY for the tropes.
ReplyDeleteHer uncle, the pope, was dead but how many people of their own did the Mystras Greeks have who were well connected in the West, could understand the Western mindset, provide intelligence from inside Western Courts? It was not much, but, a drowning man will clutch at a straw (or his own hair in Greece) and this last straw was gone. Sense of doom indeed!
ReplyDeleteBest regards,
Pavlos