As a general rule girls were not as well educated as their brothers, but so long as the boys were taught at home they were generally able to share their lessons. Even so, girls could not enter a university and if they wished to pursue their studies they had to do so with the help of a tutor. Nevertheless, quite a number of them were very learned. The daughters of Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus were noted for their scholarship. The talented Anna Comnena begged to be forgiven her temerity in writing her father’s life since she lacked ‘the science of Isocrates, the eloquence of Pindar, the impetuosity of Polimon and of Homer’s Calliope as well as Sappho’s lyre’—yet she produced a work of equally enduring quality. She married Nicephorus Briennius, himself respected as an historian. Irene, daughter of the Grand Logothete Theodore Metochites, was a distinguished scholar and so were many other women; more still qualified as doctors and worked in the women’s wards of hospitals, where they were the equals of their male colleagues.
By the ninth century the Patriarchal School in Constantinople ranked as the best of the religious educational establishments. All its teachers were deacons at the cathedral of Haghia Sophia and its director was an ecumenical professor. The younger children who were admitted to the school received the same general education as that provided for children in secular schools; that is to say they were taught the subjects included in grammar by one set of specialists, those in rhetoric by another, and those in philosophy by a third. Any of their teachers could be called upon on such occasions as the emperor’s birthday or similar events to carry out the duties of Crown orator. However, pupils in that school also followed a full course of religious instruction. Once again the subjects covered were divided between three groups of teachers; the school’s director personally taught all pupils the Gospels; other specialists studied the Epistles with them and others the Psalms; these scholars could also be asked to act as court orators. Before long specialists in the Old Testament were attached to the staff, and the school soon came to rank as a university or teachers’ training college. At that level churchmen and laymen were taught separately, with a view to providing educated men for the upper clergy or teachers. From about the tenth century men of all ages took to meeting in the school’s courtyard to discuss methods of education. By that date the school had become attached to the church of The Holy Apostles. That magnificent building stood on the summit of Constantinople’s highest hill; it was largely because of its prominent position that it was pulled down and its treasures destroyed by Sultan Mehmet and that it was replaced by a mosque some years after the conquest of Constantinople. Its loss is one of the saddest in Byzantine history. Under the Byzantines, grammarians, rhetoricians and dialecticians would meet in the church’s narthex to propound their opinions, whilst physicians, doctors, mathematicians and those concerned with geometry and music would take possession of the atrium. When their arguments became too violent the patriarch would be asked to intervene.
From the start the Byzantine emperors were determined that Constantinople, as the New Rome, should become the world’s cultural, quite as much as its political centre. The ancient pagan universities of Athens, Alexandria, Beirut and Antioch had been renowned for centuries before the founding of Constantinople. A Christian centre of advanced studies had been established in Alexandria in the course of the third century, and soon after that a Christian academy had been founded in Caesarea; other centres of Christian learning came into being shortly afterwards in most of the larger towns in the East. Constantine I attached great importance to education and, to encourage learning as well as to ensure a supply of enlightened administrators, he soon founded an academy in his new capital. The interest which he took in this institution was shared by many of his successors, but it was Theodosius II who, in 425, transformed Constantine’s academy into a fully-fledged university, controlled and supported by the emperors. In doing so he had the wholehearted approval of his grandson and even more of his wife Athenais-Eudoxia. She was by birth a pagan, the daughter of a professor of rhetoric at Athens University—so ardent a stronghold of paganism that Justinian was to put an end to its existence in 529. On marrying, Eudoxia became a devout Christian but she did not lose any of the ardent love for the Greek classics which her father had instilled into her during her childhood. It may well have been due to her influence that even at that early date Greek was made as prominent as Latin in the syllabus of Constantinople’s first university. The new foundation was allotted ten chairs of Latin and ten of Greek with, in each case, three additional chairs of rhetoric. The holders of the Latin appointments were given the names of orators and those of the Greek of sophists. Since the emperors appointed and dismissed the university’s teachers they sometimes attended their classes even though it was the duty of the senate to submit the names of candidates for these chairs (at any rate until the fifteenth century, when it fell to the Great Logothete to do so). Laymen and priests were chosen for these positions in preference to monks. Many a holder of a chair was at some time in his career called to abandon teaching to serve his emperor as an ambassador.
Secular education at Constantinople followed Christian lines whilst looking back to the ancients for its major disciplines (namely, those which they grouped under the headings of grammar and rhetoric), so that, at any rate till the sixth century, even classical studies were made to accord with the Christian doctrine. Thus philosophy, though closely associated with mathematics, found itself linked to theology, and as a result subordinated to Christianity. Nevertheless, until Justinian closed the university at Athens many young Constantinopolitans had been sent there to complete their education. Yet within a century of its foundation Constantinople’s university had already become too small for the needs of a steadily growing population. With the fall of Alexandria, Beirut and Antioch to the Muslims, it became the only one available to Christians. Students from all walks of life flocked to it; by the ninth century they included many foreigners; some were orientals, others Slays, Georgians, Armenians and, later still, Italians. In 856 Caesar Bardas, an uncle and first minister of Michael VIII, decided that a second university was needed in the capital. He established it in the Magnaura Palace and, perhaps because an ecclesiastical college was already in existence there, he gave his foundation an essentially secular syllabus. Many students attended its courses till it was closed down at the end of the tenth century, probably at the wish of Basil II. When at the height of his scholastic career Photius, who was to become renowned as patriarch of Constantinople, taught grammar, rhetoric, divinity and philosophy in the capital. Adopting the aims of Caesar Bardas, he founded secular libraries in which the works of Plato and the Greek dramatists were made easily available. Photius also undertook the exacting task of compiling the Myriobiblion, which, even though the entries were not arranged in alphabetical order yet, like a modern encyclopaedia, contained all the basic information concerning grammar, history and literature to be found in works written from ancient times to his own day. Learning continued to flourish after Photius’ death and within another two centuries the school which was attached to the Great Palace had grown into an Institute of Historical Studies.
In 1045 a third university was established in Constantinople for the sole purpose of training men for the civil service and judiciary, no lawyers being henceforth allowed to practise until they had graduated from it. Within a few more years Constantine IX Monomachus enriched it with a chair of philosophy. As a result, both theology and the classics were now taught there, and although particular stress continued to be laid on philosophy and Roman law, the culture of ancient Greece now had a part. It became customary for students to start their training by studying grammar, rhetoric and dialectics; they passed on to arithmetic, geometry, music and astrology, and ended with philosophy and advanced studies. Their final courses were conducted by Michael Psellus. He was the most outstanding scholar of the age, the man who, more than anyone else, gave effect to the aspirations both of Caesar Bardas and of Constantine IX. He became the guardian of ancient tra
ditions and at the same time the prime sponsor of active, original thought. He thus became chiefly responsible for the new outlook, that which can best be described as the humanistic; it was to express itself most eloquently in the arts of the twelfth century.
84 Scribes, whether Byzantine or German were very similar in appearance From an ivory, ninth to tenth centuries
85 Muse playing her lyre Detail from an Alexandrian ivory, c. A D 500
86 Manuscript page with illumination From a Byzantine herbal
87 Priestess of Bacchus at an altar to Jupiter From a diptych celebrating the marriage between members of two important families, c. A.D. 392
As early as the ninth century teachers had begun to favour a more humanistic scholarship, based on a philosophic attitude founded on the learning of ancient Greece. In the eleventh century Michael Psellus directed their attention to the works of Plato. These had been almost forgotten since the death of Photius. By bringing them to light Psellus created a new atmosphere and an outlook on life which differed radically from that which Christian theologians had instilled into philosophy. The Neo- or New Platonists, as those who thought along the same lines as Psellus were called, refused to accept without question the theories held by theologians, but showed a searching curiosity and more adventurous approach. One result of this was a revival of the sciences, with particular interest being taken in the works of contemporary Arabic and Persian mathematicians and astronomers. As in the days of Theophilus and Leo VI, the Wise, this contact with the East, tempered by the new humanism of the Byzantines, produced men of a more flexible stamp.
Although interest in the works of Plato fostered the development of this humanistic outlook it caused a strong divergence of views between the clerical and lay scholars. Fearing that a return to Hellenism might lead to a revival of idolatry, or rather of paganism, the clergy strove to encourage mysticism in place of the realistic, enquiring approach advocated by laymen. Nevertheless, members of the upper clergy continued to study grammar, philosophy and poetry alongside the lives of saints and commentaries on religious texts. Monastic libraries were now expected not only to contain religious and medical books, grammars and dictionaries, but also the works of Aristotle.
When in 1204 the court was transferred to Nicaea the centre of studies moved there with it, but continued to look to ancient Athens for inspiration and, on the emperor’s return to Constantinople in 1261, the classics were studied with even greater enthusiasm than before the Latin occupation. At the same time Eastern (Persian and Mongol) influences, transmitted to the capital by Trapezuntine scholars, and Western ideas bequeathed by the Latins, produced a new intellectual vitality and a creativeness in art as great as that during Byzantium’s most prosperous days. Typical of the period was Theodore Metochites (1260-1332), Great Logothete to Emperor Andronicus III. He was both a distinguished humanist philosopher and a notable scientist; he set much store on mathematics and strove to dissociate the study of astronomy from that of astrology. From ancient times, the latter had been linked both in popular imagination and by astronomers with magic and, as a result, alchemists had enjoyed the same regard as scientific thinkers. An admirer of Plato and Aristotle, even though he did not share the latter’s metaphysical beliefs, Metochites possessed a truly encyclopaedic fund of knowledge, and he combined it with a keen artistic perceptiveness. He built at his own expense one of the finest monuments of later Byzantine art, the exquisitely proportioned, superbly decorated Church of the Chora in Constantinople.
The respect in which magic was held in a society as profoundly religious and as intellectually developed as the Byzantine is difficult to explain. Neither deep religious feeling nor the many trained and qualified doctors could shake the faith which even the highest in the land displayed in spells, incantations and the advice of itinerant healers. Nevertheless much serious work continued to be done in the spheres of medicine, botany and zoology. The study of medicine was based on the teaching of Hippocrates, but it was combined with methods advocated by largely self-taught practitioners (for example, Alexander of Tralles in the sixth century) who based many of their conclusions on experience, observation and common sense. Sufficient doctors were trained annually to ensure the staffing not only of the state hospitals, but also of those attached to monasteries, convents and orphanages. However, no advances were achieved in Byzantium comparable in importance to those attained in the West in the medical schools of Bologna or Paris.
88 Bronze dividers
The best Byzantine doctors generally resorted to purging and bleeding as their most reliable remedies. Eminent physicians frequently disagreed on how best to treat a patient. Anna Comnena wrote with bitterness of the ineffectiveness of the doctors gathered round her father’s death-bed. Even fewer significant advances were made in the related fields of botany and zoology, for although a great many botanical books and bestiaries were written and accompanied by numerous illustrations, these volumes were more in the nature of records of known information than accounts of new discoveries. Nor did Byzantine geographers greatly add to the existing store of knowledge. On the other hand cartography was well advanced; maps were widely used and many valuable discoveries were recorded in books which took the form of itineraries, collections of travellers’ tales and scenic descriptions.
Though the Byzantines took more delight in existing disciplines than in investigating new fields of knowledge their admiration for learning was both genuine and profound. It is reflected in the attitude of Theodore II of Nicaea who, during the bitter time of the Latin occupation of Constantinople, nevertheless insisted that ‘whatever the needs of war and defence it remains essential to find time to cultivate the garden of learning’. Even though the Byzantines did not succeed in leaving us a great secular literature with masterpieces comparable to those of ancient Greece and Rome, they were as a result able to provide Europe with a legacy which contains much to be grateful for.
Little secular poetry has survived, and most of that which does exist seems rather dull to us today. It was seldom written with a view to being read; rather was it meant to be heard, being sung or recited, since the poet and musician were often one and the same person. As in medieval Europe, so in Byzantium, he depended for his living on the patron for whom he produced the greater part of his compositions. But he also had a special part to play on public occasions such as the Spring and Brumelia festivals, during carnivals, in the circus and in certain processions when madrigals were often sung and serious poems listened to with enjoyment. The poems which Pisidias composed on the subject of Heraclius’ great campaign against the Persians in 622 and on the Arabian attack on Constantinople in 626 were enthusiastically received and compared by his listeners to the masterpieces of Euripides.
The ancient Greeks used the flute and zither to accompany their secular songs and dances; to these the Byzantines had added the organ, cymbals and lyre. It has been suggested that Theophilus, who delighted in Arabic culture and the dances of Arab girls, introduced the lyre into the country, but in fact the instrument must have been known there from far earlier times. Musicians composed works for all these instruments, adopting the 16-tone scale for secular purposes in preference to the 8-tone one used for religious music. Until the ninth century music was transmitted from one person to another, but in that century a form of notation was devised. It differs so much from western notation that scholars have only recently begun to master it. Both for this reason and because very little written music has survived our knowledge even of Byzantine religious music is still very limited.
The finest hymns were written in what can best be described as rhythmical rather than rhymed verse. Many remain in use today as canticles of the Orthodox Church. They were written by both laymen and clerics who often also composed their own music; it was always vocal and never instrumental, but distinctions were made between renderings in coloratura and recitative. Largely because the earliest-known hymn book happens to have come from Syria, it has been suggested that the sung portions in Orth
odox services (that is to say the Liturgy) are of eastern origin, but this theory still awaits confirmation. That hymnal dates from the sixth century and was the work of a certain Romanus, a Jew from Nisiana in Syria, who became converted to Christianity, moved to Constantinople and became a deacon there. Emperor Justinian wrote some magnificent hymns in addition to some fine theological works in prose. By the eighth century Greek hymns were so much admired in western Europe that Charlemagne arranged for a selection to be translated into Latin.
Everyday Life in Byzantium Page 21