She mentions a certain Count Raoul who boorishly sat on the imperial throne. Alexius afterward retained this haughty knight, by means of an interpreter asking who he was. I am a Frank, said he, of most high and noble lineage. In my country is a shrine at the crossroads where all betake themselves who would display valor in personal combat. There I went and for a long time waited, but none chose to measure swords with me. To which the emperor replied that he would have his chance. Indeed, this malapert noble soon bled out his life on Turkish soil.
Anna did not set down what she knew about these Franks until years afterward when she was an old woman locked in a convent at her brother’s command. I think with her husband Nicephorus Briennius she fomented some intrigue that was the cause of banishment. I have heard she tried clumsily to assassinate her brother. Whatever the fact, she was no more than fourteen when the Franks arrived. To her eyes they made up a violent host, impulsive, grasping, barbaric men followed by pale women, children, numberless animals, and quaint equipment. She named them Celts, albeit their homelands varied. Each leader she thought a count, whether duke or knight or baron or pilgrim of a different rank, confusing Longobards with Provençals or Flemings. She and other Greeks felt disdain mingled with hatred toward these intrepid servants of Christ who journeyed five hundred leagues.
As to the emperor, what sifts through ancient narratives? A man broad and squat, his curly beard glistening with oil, his gestures courtly, dark eyes alert with malice. Through some deficiency he could not quite enunciate the eighteenth letter, which is to say, R. He thought himself emperor of all Romans, paying homage to one who founded the city where he ruled, Constantine. Only when surrounded by torches did he expose himself to the people, gowned in the royal purple of dead Caesars. From the cross surmounting his crown dripped strands of jewels, from his shoulders loops of pearls to attest his radiance, attesting the radiance of Jesus Christ since he was Christo Autocrator. Yet he was bone and flesh and blood. During a game of polo an exceeding fat general, by name Taticius, fell against his leg. The injury did not seem important but later he got the gout. Owing to the abundance of my sins, he was heard to say, I deserve to suffer. And if he murmured with pain he quickly made the sign of the Cross. Wicked One, he would say, addressing the devil, a curse on you!
Turks made sport of his infirmity, believing it an excuse for cowardice. They thought it ripe for comic drama. Some would play at being servants or slaves while Kilij Arslan played physician. Shouting with laughter they would put the wretched emperor to bed and drunkenly attend his needs.
Nor did Franks show much grace. They petitioned him without respite, wanting this or that, nor limited their speeches by the water clock as did orators of times past. Shamelessly they invaded the palace trailed by subordinates, making a lengthy queue, each after something for his pocket. Alexius listened patiently to these requests. At dusk he would limp to his apartment. Still they followed, brisk with avarice.
Princess Anna wrote that he was expert at discerning the grain of a man, at penetrating secrets of the mind. Thus, when Bohemond arrived, Alexius inquired about the journey and had food brought to him. Bohemond gave the food to lackeys, neither tasting it nor touching it with a fingertip, and next day asked if any fell sick. Alexius tried him further. He ordered a room in the palace precincts set aside, stuffed with extravagant riches, brocade, silk, sumptuous clothes, hammered gold cups and urns. Jewels and coins so littered the floor that one could not walk through without trampling them. And the door opened suddenly. Ah! cried Bohemond. If I acquired such wealth I would be the lord of many lands! He was told that everything belonged to him, a gift from Alexius. Chronicles relate that he felt overjoyed but afterward changed his mind, claiming he was insulted. Then he regretted his pride, changing like a sea polyp. For this Princess Anna scorned him, writing that he as much surpassed in deceit all the Franks who visited Constantinople as he was inferior to them in wealth.
Fulcher de Chartres, who was present, declares that the emperor excelled at caution. We could not visit, says he, but in little companies of five or six, at hourly intervals. As one group of pilgrims emerged, another entered to pray in the churches. All because Alexius feared mischief.
What of those emperors who preceded him? Ghosts sunk in pravity. Here was Monomakh, surpassing fat, held upright in the saddle by slaves to either side, who bestowed his diadem and purple mantle on the jester, who endured the gout as did Alexius but called it an excellent thing since otherwise he would squander himself among women. He showed his mistress to the populace, gold serpents entwining her naked arms. Here also his aged consort Zoë wallowing on carpets in senile lust, clutching jeweled icons to her flabby breast.
