Chapter IV: The Venetians at Constantinople

Nine months had elapsed since the Crusaders left Venice, and no disaster had befallen them. The Adriatic and Ionian Seas were safely passed; threading the Islands of the Archipelago, crossing the Ægean, and through the Straits of the Dardanelles into the Sea of Marmora, even to the quays of the Byzantine capital, had they come, and no voice or hand had been raised to stay them.

When a nearer approach revealed to them the beauty, the strength, and the magnitude of the city they hoped to conquer, we may well believe, as Gibbon has said, "that each heart was chilled by the reflection that, since the beginning of the world, such an enterprise had never been undertaken by such a handful of warriors." Rising from seven hills, the city towered above two continents; five hundred palaces and splendidly domed churches bristling with spires, were doubled by reflection in the waters, while the ramparts were crowded with warriors and citizens.

The Emperor, Alexius the Elder, had known all their movements; but until the fleet was almost at the border of his garden on the Golden Horn, he would not allow that the Crusaders could come as his enemies. When, after some delay, the fleet was anchored off Scutari, and the army encamped within full view of Constantinople, across the Bosphorus, Alexius was filled with alarm, and sent a messenger to the leaders to demand why they had come {49} into his territory, to assure them of his readiness to supply all their wants, and of his unwillingness to injure them, at the same time declaring his power to do so.

The astonished Crusaders returned a sufficiently clear answer. They declared the Emperor to be a usurper; that the rightful ruler, the son of Isaac, was with them, and if the crown and empire were at once surrendered to him, the Crusaders would ask the young Emperor to pardon his uncle and give him enough to live upon in luxury. They then assured the messenger that unless he returned with an answer assenting to these proposals, he had better not dare to come at all.

The leaders believed that a large party existed in Constantinople who would favor the young Alexius, and deemed it expedient to give this party an opportunity to declare themselves. They manned and armed the galleys; Dandolo, Boniface, and Alexius were on one, and an army of knights and barons on the others. The walls of the city came to the water's edge for a long distance, and the deep water permitted the ships to approach very near them; the ramparts were filled with spectators, as the grand procession crossed the Bosphorus and halted under their very eyes. Some one near to Alexius proclaimed: "Here is your rightful lord. We come not to harm you, but to protect you if you do right. He whom you now obey rules you wrongfully, against the law of God and man. Here is the real heir. If you do not acknowledge him, we will do our worst against you." This proclamation was received with derision, and the people answered: "We know nothing of him. Who is he?"

The Crusaders returned to Scutari, and made their plans for attacking the city. So serious a matter as was now in hand overcame all disaffections; their task seemed hopeless, and every man realized that he must fight for the cause and not for himself. The priests urged the {50} confession on all, advised the making of wills, and held solemn services, praying to all the saints for protection, and promising generous returns for such assistance.

When all was ready for action, the French undertook an assault by land. The knights with their horses embarked on the transports, which could be opened in such a way as to permit the mounted men to ride across the gangways. The foot-soldiers followed on the larger ships. Alexius went with the barons, attended with all the state possible. The crossbowmen and archers were so placed as to clear a landing; the impatient knights leaped into the water while it was still up to the waist, and, lance in hand, reached the shore. The landing was made without opposition, and the army encamped in the Jewish quarter.

The Tower or Castle of Galata was taken next morning with little opposition; by this means the immense chain which closed the harbor, or the entrance to the Golden Horn, was loosened and the Venetians were able to enter with their ships. They surprised the Greek galleys, captured a part of them, and sunk others. Four days were now spent in preparations for the grand attack by sea and land; and on the fifth day, which was the 17th of July, the terrible struggle was begun.

The French conducted the land attack with vigor, and had the Greeks been their only opponents they would have been easily overcome. But the brave English and Danes,--the Varangians, as they were called,--although the hired soldiers of the Emperor, drove back the invaders, and bravely defeated the attack.

Meantime the Doge placed a fleet in the Golden Horn, in line along the eastern wall of the city, and began his attack in earnest. Wherever the danger was greatest there was the Doge; and his achievements are almost beyond belief, when his great age and weak sight are remembered. Gibbon was not over-fond of the Venetians; let us quote his tribute to them on this proud day:--

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"On the side of the harbor the attack was more successfully conducted by the Venetians; and that industrious people employed every resource that was known and practised before the invention of gunpowder. A double line, three bowshots in front, was formed by the galleys and ships; and the swift motion of the former was supported by the weight and loftiness of the latter, whose decks and poops and turrets were the platforms of military engines that discharged their shot over the heads of the first line. The soldiers who leaped from the galleys on shore immediately planted and ascended their scaling-ladders, while the large ships, advancing more slowly into the intervals and lowering a drawbridge, opened a way through the air from their masts to the rampart.

"In the midst of the conflict the Doge's venerable and conspicuous form stood aloft in complete armor on the prow of his galley. The great standard of St. Mark was displayed before him; his threats, promises, and exhortations urged the diligence of the rowers; his vessel was the first that struck; and Dandolo was the first warrior on shore. The nations admired the magnanimity of the blind old man, without reflecting that his age and infirmities diminished the price of life and enhanced the value of immortal glory. On a sudden, by an invisible hand (for the standard-bearer was probably slain), the banner of the Republic was fixed on the rampart, twenty-five towers were rapidly occupied, and, by the cruel expedient of fire, the Greeks were driven from the adjacent quarter."

Fearful for the fate of the French, Dandolo now hastened to their relief with his troops. The Emperor Alexius had made a sally, but the aspect of his foes terrified him more and more. At evening he withdrew his forces, and in the darkness of the night, taking £10,000 and many rich jewels with him, by the way of the Bosphorus he reached obscurity in Thrace. He deserted his throne and his people, his wife and his children, taking with him his daughter Irene alone.

The chief eunuch of the palace, Constantine, prefect of {52} the treasury, first discovered this flight, and sagely warned the most noble of the Greeks, that they might arrange for the safety of the throne at once. The old Isaac was released from his dungeon, taken to the palace of Blachernæ, dressed in royal apparel, and seated on the throne of which he had been so treacherously deprived. His nobles jostled each other in their haste to protest devotion and loyalty; and when day dawned, messengers were sent to the allies announcing his peaceful restoration, his impatience to see his son, and his desire to reward his "generous deliverers." These last did not forget their rights in their generosity. They would not release the young Alexius until his promises had been made good, and a number of ambassadors were sent to the palace, among whom was our friend, Villehardouin, the scribe.

When the gates were opened, the Varangian guards, bearing their battle-axes, lined the streets; in the presence-chamber, which sparkled with gold and jewels, the blind old Isaac was enthroned with his wife at his side, while senators, soldiers, and noble matrons filled the room. The ambassadors, without hesitation, clearly stated the recompense promised them by the young Alexius on the fulfilment of their agreement. Isaac could not understand their speech, but their tone impressed him with their determination to have their dues.

He retired to an inner room with an interpreter, the Empress, and the ambassadors, and there was made to comprehend that he was pledged to submit to the Church of Rome, to aid in the conquest of Palestine, and to pay to the Venetians the two hundred thousand marks so long overdue them. With great prudence he worded his reply: "These conditions are weighty, they are hard to accept and difficult to perform; but no conditions can exceed the measure of your services and deserts." He then affixed the golden seal of the Empire to the treaty; and {53} his son, whose voice he longed to hear, was restored to him.

On the 1st of August the father and the son were crowned in St. Sophia with grand solemnities. The quarter of Pera was assigned to the French and Venetians, and any regret or fear that existed on either side was concealed by apparent content and enjoyment.

But it was not possible that all the discordant elements which existed within Constantinople before the arrival of the invaders, and those which they added should live together in harmony. It soon became evident that Alexius was most unpopular; his long residence abroad had tinged his manners with a foreign air, and the familiarity in which he indulged the Frenchmen was most distasteful to the Greeks.

Beneath his gay exterior the mind of Alexius was greatly disturbed. He at once paid the allies all the money that he could possibly control; and small as the sum proved to be it was obtained by violating the sanctuary, and sequestrating not only the effects of the late Emperor's family, but also those of such individuals as had fallen under the suspicion or dislike of Alexius IV. The allies, as well as Alexius, realized that time must be allowed for future payments, and that the submission of the Greek to the Latin Church could not be made at once.

But the alarm of the young Emperor was inexpressible when he reflected that the time agreed upon for the departure of the Crusaders was at hand. The Greeks more than suspected the promises that bound the Emperors to the Latins, and were neither pleased to support their rulers in magnificent luxury nor to pay foreigners for invading their capital. Alexius well knew in what danger the departure of the fleet would leave him, and strove to find a way to detain it.

He entreated the allies not to desert him until he could {54} establish his power; he represented that his father and he had lost the good-will of the Greeks through their friendship for the Latins, and protested his belief that their departure would be the signal for a revolution which would take away his power to furnish them troops or pay them money. Again the sufferings and dangers of a winter campaign in a hostile land were represented; again he made promises,--of payment of his whole debt in the spring, of the immediate organization of ten thousand soldiers and five hundred knights for the service of God, and the supply of all necessary provisions for the allies until the Passover; while to the Doge he promised to keep the fleet afloat until the same time at his own cost. The Patriarch and clergy meanwhile abjured the Greek heresy, which mollified the opposition of the more devout, and finally the time of their departure was deferred to April, 1204.

Alexius desired to visit the cities on or near the Bosphorus in order to establish his authority and receive their submission, and for sixteen hundred gold crowns a portion of the troops was sent with him. The expedition had but a questionable success, and on his return, early in November, he found that a party of foreign soldiers, when excited by wine, had attacked a Jewish quarter and burst open a synagogue.

Naturally a fierce fight ensued; and some Flemings, in order to cover their retreat, set several houses on fire. A frightful conflagration resulted; for eight days the fire raged, and when at last it was extinguished, a third of the Byzantine capital no longer existed. Several ships in the port had burned to the water's edge; the number of churches and palaces as well as more humble dwelling-houses, the amount of merchandise and other wealth that had been destroyed, was unknown and unknowable. The district burned was the most populous of the city, and the {55} hatred of the Latins was so much increased that about fifteen thousand colonists, who had before lived quietly in the midst of the Greeks, now fled to Pera to be under the protection of the allies. The whole condition of affairs was most alarming, both for the Greeks and the Latins, and but a spark was needed to kindle another sort of fire that would destroy thousands of lives as well as the city and its wealth.

The conduct of Alexius began plainly to show his double dealing. The Latins and their reminders of his promises were treated with such indifference as excited their rage and alarm. At length they lost all patience, and in January, 1204, sent an embassy of three noble Frenchmen and as many Venetians to demand anew from the two Emperors the fulfilment of their contract, and to add that the Doge and the barons had resolved to take by force what was not peacefully given them.

This was a dangerous mission; but the six warriors, one of whom was our scribe, with few attendants alighted at the gate of the Blachernæ, and on foot, passing between two lines of Varangians, reached the palace. The two Emperors with their families were surrounded by the court; a brilliant throng of ladies, ministers, and nobles, and an army of attendants filled the hall.

Conon de Béthune delivered the message from the allies in a commanding voice; and, their duty accomplished, the ambassadors retired at once, and fortunately reached their horses in safety.

Their sudden coming and more sudden going caused an unusual excitement in the city; and when the truth was known, the Greeks were in a frenzy of rage that such an insult had been offered them and the perpetrators of it allowed to depart in safety; with one accord they turned their wrath against those who had permitted the ambassadors to escape their vengeance. They cursed the Angeli {56} as unfit to reign, and Alexius for having sold his country to the Latins; they swore that the time had come to choose a loyal sovereign who would lead them to glory and freedom.

The mob destroyed the colossal statue of Minerva in the Square of Constantine, because they believed that her right hand, pointing towards the west, had invited the invasion of the French and Venetians! A bronze figure of a Caledonian boar in the Hippodrome was accredited with power to charm away sedition, and Isaac ordered it brought within the grounds of his palace! Such were some of the preparations for the threatened attack of the allies.

Alexius was enraged, and the blind old Isaac was prostrated by fear; the whole city resounded with the din of confusion, and the Greeks resolved on a characteristic revenge,--the destruction of the fleet by fire. On a dark winter night a French sentinel was startled by the appearance of a broad sheet of flame approaching the Venetian fleet. He gave the alarm instantly, and the alert sailors saw and understood their danger; a line of fire-ships had been lighted and allowed to drift towards the fleet; the sailors hastily rowed towards them, seized them with hooks on long poles, and towed them to the mouth of the harbor, where a current swept them away, the only loss being that of a vessel belonging to the incendiaries.

A tiresome succession of proposals, made only to be modified or withdrawn, now ensued; and the Latins determined to be inactive no longer, but at once to attack Constantinople for the second time.

At this juncture a Greek of a certain sort of influence came to the front. His name was Alexius Ducas, but he was called Marzoufle on account of his shaggy eyebrows. He possessed great energy and boundless ambition, and was utterly void of moral perception or principle. As {57} grand-chamberlain he had been near the Emperors, and gradually had come to be their chief adviser. He flattered them, and incited the people against them; such faith had both father and son in Marzoufle that when the people, by his connivance, assembled in St. Sophia to elect a new emperor, they refused to believe that this was the object of the gathering.

It was with great difficulty that any one could be persuaded to assume the purple under the present conditions; but at last, overcome by intimidation, a young noble of high rank and worthy character, Nicholas Canabes, accepted the diadem. He had no fitness for such responsibilities as now rested on the Greek Emperor. In truth, there was no savior of Constantinople at hand. The strongest man was Marzoufle, and in reality he was conducting the affairs of the Empire. Hypocritically he worked his way until he gained the ear of the treasurer and could tamper with the Varangians, and then in a single night he consigned Canabes to a dungeon, and ordered the murder of the young Alexius before his eyes, and a few days later superintended his interment with great pomp. The old Isaac survived his son's death but a few days, and Marzoufle seated himself upon the vacant throne without opposition.

Immediately after the murder of Alexius, Marzoufle sent an invitation to Dandolo and the barons to sup with the young Emperor, who wished to consult with them. The barons accepted the invitation, and so long as the messenger remained, Dandolo was silent; but as soon as he had departed, the old Doge so forcibly represented the danger of such a step that the acceptance was withdrawn, and, on learning the truth about Alexius, they felt that they owed their lives to the prudence and wisdom of Dandolo.

Marzoufle was greatly vexed at his failure to entrap the {58} leaders of the allies, but watched carefully for another occasion, which soon presented itself. The Count of Flanders, with a thousand men, went to Phinea, on the Bosphorus, in search of provisions. Marzoufle followed with a large body of troops, intending to meet the French on their return and cut them off when they should be overweighted with booty and weary from their expedition. But this second scheme resulted in favor of the allies; the Greeks were totally defeated, and Marzoufle himself only saved from being made a prisoner by the fleetness of his horse.

Having boldly assumed full power, his next move was to invite the Crusaders to a conference in order to make a plan for the fulfilment of the contract made with Isaac and Alexius IV. The Crusaders were now minded to refuse to consult with an assassin and usurper; but Dandolo believed that no opportunity for a possible settlement should be neglected, and offered to go alone to meet Marzoufle. Accordingly, the Doge, in his galley, met the traitor near the Golden Horn. Dandolo stood erect in the prow of his barge, Marzoufle was on horseback, and their salutations were distant and formal. Dandolo, after expressing his horror at the crimes which Marzoufle had committed, assured him of the distrust with which the allies viewed him, and then recounted to him the terms of the treaty to which Isaac had set the seal of the Empire.

Marzoufle assented to all the conditions except that of submission to the Latin Church; sooner than consent to that, he would bury his country, and himself die beneath its ruins. In vain he was reminded that the Greek clergy had already renounced their heresy; he was immovable in this regard, and the two men parted with no result from their conference except that Dandolo could say that he had used his best endeavors to bring about a peace. A {59} second attempt was soon after made to fire the ships. It proved useless, like the first; and then Marzoufle saw that his only course was to prepare for open war.

And here one can but admire the ability of Marzoufle. He found the treasury empty, and replenished it by a strict inquiry into the abuses under the Angeli, and the confiscation of the property of those who had amassed wealth unlawfully. The people were unfriendly to the crown; but by his address, his gayety, and tact he made himself popular. The Greeks were indifferent to the welfare of their city, but under his leading they were aroused to patriotism and energy. The walls were repaired, and in some places raised to a great height; lofty stone towers alternating with those of wood were built and filled with soldiers well supplied with the means of defence; mangonels for throwing stones and darts were mounted between the towers, and all possible provision made for harassing the invaders and protecting the Greeks. And Marzoufle was everywhere, with an iron mace in his hand, and the bearing of a warrior, ordering the works, encouraging the timid, and striking terror to the hearts of the discontented.

The Crusaders were equally industrious in their preparations. The decks of their vessels were piled with enormous stores of missiles and the machines for hurling them, as well as others for belching forth combustible matter freighted with death and destruction. The 9th of April had been fixed for the beginning of the assault, and a council was called and an agreement made concerning the manner in which the booty should be divided, a new ruler chosen, and other similar affairs be settled in case they succeeded in taking the city. An instrument was drawn up, signed, and sealed by Dandolo and the barons at the camp of Galata, and little else remained to be done before the attack should begin. As we regard the position of the allies, it would seem that madness alone could {60} lead them to this assault. Their temerity is appalling. Before them was an apparently impregnable fortress, and four hundred thousand men, who now had a bold leader and were themselves filled with hatred of their foes. The allies numbered less than twenty thousand, and could neither hope for assistance from friends without, nor from treachery within the walls. They could only rely on their bravery and their good fortune. The Greeks depended on their position and their overwhelming numbers. All alike believed that Heaven would favor them, and thus sustained their courage. Gibbon thus graphically describes the siege:--

"A fearless spectator, whose mind could entertain the ideas of pomp and pleasure, might have admired the long array of two embattled armies, which extended above half a league,--the one on the ships and galleys, the other on the walls and towers raised above the ordinary level by several stages of wooden turrets. Their first fury was spent in the discharge of darts, stones, and fire from the engines; but the water was deep, the French were bold, the Venetians were skilful. They approached the walls; and a desperate conflict of swords, spears, and battle-axes was fought on the trembling bridges that grappled the floating to the stable batteries. In more than a hundred places the assault was urged and the defence was sustained, till the superiority of ground and numbers finally prevailed, and the Latin trumpets sounded a retreat.

"On the ensuing days the attack was renewed with equal vigor and a similar event; and, in the night, the Doge and the barons held a council, apprehensive only for the public danger. Not a voice pronounced the words of escape or treaty; and each warrior, according to his temper, embraced the hope of victory or the assurance of a glorious death. By the experience of the former siege the Greeks were instructed, but the Latins were animated; and the knowledge that Constantinople might be taken was of more avail than the local precautions which that knowledge had inspired for its defence.

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"In the third assault two ships were linked together to double their strength; a strong north wind drove them on the shore; the bishops of Troyes and Soissons led the van; and the auspicious names of the 'Pilgrim' and the 'Paradise' resounded along the line. The episcopal banners were displayed on the walls; a hundred marks of silver had been promised to the first adventurers; and if their reward was intercepted by death, their names have been immortalized by fame.[1] Four towers were scaled; three gates were burst open; and the French knights, who might tremble on the waves, felt themselves invincible on horseback on the solid ground.

[1] Pietro Alberti and André d'Urboise.

"Shall I relate that the thousands who guarded the emperor's person fled on the approach, and before the lance, of a single warrior? Their ignominious flight is attested by their countryman Nicetas; an army of phantoms marched with the French hero, and he was magnified to a giant in the eyes of the Greeks. While the fugitives deserted their posts and cast away their arms, the Latins entered the city under the banners of their leaders: the streets and gates opened for their passage; and either design or accident kindled a third conflagration, which consumed in a few hours the measure of three of the largest cities in France.

"In the close of evening the barons checked their troops and fortified their stations; they were awed by the extent and populousness of the capital, which might yet require the labor of a month, if the churches and palaces were conscious of their internal strength. But in the morning a suppliant procession, with crosses and images, announced the submission of the Greeks, and deprecated the wrath of the conquerors: the usurper escaped through the golden gate; the palaces of Blachernæ and Boucoleon were occupied by the Count of Flanders and the Marquis of Montferrat; and the Empire, which still bore the name of Constantine and the title of Roman, was subverted by the arms of the Latin pilgrims."

The anxieties and cares of the conquerors were by no means ended by victory. They had overcome the strongest {62} fortress in existence, and were in possession of a city whose vast size and inconceivable wealth (as yet but half known to them) impressed them with their responsibilities, and foreshadowed difficulties which must be met with the greatest prudence. The Greeks were a degenerate and effeminate people, demoralized by bad government and pleasure-seeking. In the language of an old historian, they "cheated time and offended Nature, by rearing flowers in winter, and culling in spring the fruits of autumn." Dandolo and the barons perceived that this people must be protected; and how to do this before the whirlwind of profligacy and avarice which was sure to follow, was a grave question.

"The Marquis of Monteferrato was the model of virtue; the Count of Flanders, the mirror of chastity;" and they, as well as Dandolo, endeavored to avert the terrors of pillage and rapine. A proclamation was issued in their name, commanding that the helpless and innocent should be spared; and the Count of St. Pol hanged one of his knights, who offered abuse to a woman, with his shield and coat-of-arms about his neck, as a warning that the leaders must be obeyed. But avarice was not checked. The imperial treasury and the arsenal were guarded, and the rest of the city was given up to plunder.

Under the penalties of perjury, excommunication, and death, the whole body of Crusaders and Venetians were bound to deposit all their plunder, of whatever sort, in three churches selected for the purpose. In spite of all these precautions and the severe punishment of the disobedient, Gibbon says that the plunder which was secreted exceeded in value that which was exposed and divided according to the agreement previously made. This may easily have been true of the rare precious gems and small articles of inestimable value which existed in Constantinople, but that which was divided far exceeded any anticipations which had been indulged by the leaders.

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Sismondi estimates that the riches of Constantinople before the siege reached twenty-four million pounds sterling. The Count of Flanders wrote to the Pope that the wealth of Constantinople exceeded that of all Europe put together; and Villehardouin declared that never in the history of the world had so great riches been collected in a single city. The property divided was valued at one million eight hundred thousand pounds; and if Gibbon is correct, the whole booty must have reached four million pounds sterling. In the division half was given to the Crusaders, and half to the Venetians; and the latter received fifty thousand silver marks additional, which was due them from the barons.

The whole story of the terrible destruction of works of art--of bronzes sent to the melting-pot, of marbles and other beautiful statues and ornaments that were ruthlessly broken--is heart-rending, but is not strictly a part of the story of Venice, since the ignominy and sacrilege of these deeds belong to other nations as well. Nothing was sacred to the plunderers. Pears tells us--

"Every insult was offered to the religion of the conquered citizens. Churches and monasteries were the richest storehouses, and were therefore the first buildings to be rifled. Monks and priests were selected for insult. The priest's robes were placed by the Crusaders on their horses. The icons were ruthlessly torn down from the screens or were broken. The sacred buildings were ransacked for relics or their beautiful caskets. The chalices were stripped of their precious stones and converted into drinking-cups. The sacred plate was heaped with ordinary plunder. The altar-cloths and the screens of cloth-of-gold, richly embroidered and bejewelled, were torn down, and either divided among the troops or destroyed for the sake of the gold and silver which were woven into them. The altars of Hagia Sophia, which had been the admiration of all men, were broken for the sake of the material of which they were made. Horses and mules were taken into the church in {64} order to carry off the loads of sacred vessels, and the gold and silver plates of the throne, the pulpits, and the doors, and the beautiful ornaments of the church. The soldiers made the chief church of Christendom the scene of their profanity. A prostitute was seated in the patriarchal chair, who danced, and sang a ribald song for the amusement of the soldiers.... The plunder of the same church in 1453 by Mahomet the Second compares favorably with that made by the Crusaders of 1204."

Hazlitt adds to his account of the pillage:--

"Gems of the choicest water, vases of inestimable value, relics of odorous sanctity, were pilfered from the altars, the reliquaries, or from private dwellings, by rapacious soldiers, who sold them at a paltry price; and although these matchless rarities were recovered, partly by process of exchange and the ignorance of art, no inconsiderable portion was irretrievably lost. Some, however, found a worthy destination. The proud monuments of human genius, sculptures, paintings, frescos, mosaics, and minerals, which the industry and taste of ten generations of men had gradually amassed in that city of cities, were scattered by this great revolution among the palaces and churches, the castles and abbeys, of Western Europe. Many of the Venetian public buildings were decorated with the trophies which fell to the lot of the Republic herself; and Venice accounted no treasures more precious than the four antique bronzes, which were afterward known as the 'Horses of St. Mark.'"

Many beautiful objects from St. Sophia were also taken to Venice, and placed in San Marco. The high altar with its bronze gates and marble columns was a rich trophy, as well as many sculptures and pictures, vessels of gold and silver, and a great quantity of church furniture. The famous picture of the Virgin, believed to have been painted by Saint Luke when inspired by the Holy Ghost, was also obtained by the Venetians, who were accused of having taken the larger share of the spoils and of having concealed many treasures in their vessels.

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It was not until the 9th of May that attention was given to the important matter of the election of a new Emperor. Six Venetians and six Frenchmen or Lombards, according to the agreement made before the siege, met in the chapel of the Boucoleon to deliberate on this momentous and difficult question. The choice lay between Baldwin, whom the French favored, Boniface, who was the choice of the Lombards, and Dandolo, whom the Venetians believed the most worthy and best to have earned the purple. "That old man," said they, "has gained the wisdom and experience of age without losing the vigor and fire of youth; his sight may be dim; but his intellect is clear and strong,--it is he who took Constantinople." The electors, too, were of this opinion, until one of the Venetians opposed it, and in a long argument showed so many good reasons against the election of Dandolo that the matter rested between Baldwin and Boniface, and at midnight the expectant thousands heard the cry, "Long live the Emperor Baldwin!"

Boniface and Dandolo hastened to congratulate the Count of Flanders, and to take their part in raising him on the buckler; according to the ancient custom, he was thus carried from the palace to St. Sophia, and placed on the golden throne of the Emperors, while the barons pressed forward to kiss his hand, and he was solemnly invested with the scarlet buskins. A few days later, he was crowned by the Legate, as no Patriarch then existed in Constantinople. The Venetians, however, soon had the satisfaction of seeing one of their nobles, Thomas Morosini, on the ecclesiastical throne, while their clergy filled the Chapter of St. Sophia. The French clergy did not regard this with favor, and a lengthy correspondence with Rome ensued.

At first Innocent declared the election of Morosini to be entirely null; but in the course of the correspondence {66} many considerations were presented to his Holiness which moderated his views. He did not love the Venetians, but he feared them, and thought it wiser to be at peace with them than to arouse their stubbornness. Indeed, Venice now had some claim to consideration at the Vatican. The restorers of the papal supremacy at the Greek capital were a different people from the conquerors of Zara, and after mature reflection Innocent approved of the elevation of Morosini to the Patriarchate of Constantinople. One can but feel a certain sympathy with Innocent at the result of the great Crusade for which he had labored and from which he hoped so much.

"His long and careful preparations had been defeated by Philip, Boniface, and Dandolo. All the efforts he had made to strike a deadly blow at Islam had come to naught. The preparations made at so much cost had resulted in an attack upon Christians, and not upon Moslems. Constantinople had been captured instead of Jerusalem. The opportunity, so favorable from many causes, had been lost, and no other presenting equal advantages was ever to occur again. The internal quarrel between the Saracen leaders, and the weakening of Egypt by the non-rising of the Nile during a succession of years, were accidental circumstances which were never repeated. The supreme moment for striking a blow at the Saracens at a time when it could have been struck with effect had passed. Innocent's energy was too great to allow him to sit idle under the failure, but all his efforts were unable to create an expedition equal in strength to that of 1202."

Preparations were now made for the second coronation of Baldwin by the Patriarch on a scale of magnificence which surprised the Crusaders. He was again seated on a shield and raised on the shoulders of the chiefs, and then descending was conducted to St. Sophia by the barons and principal officials. Boniface carried the imperial robe of cloth of gold. The Count of St. Pol {67} bore the imperial sword. At St. Sophia a solemn Mass was celebrated, the crown was placed on his head, and the words "He is worthy" pronounced and repeated by the bishops and people. After the new sovereign had communicated, he received all the imperial insignia, and headed the procession from the church to the Boucoleon, attended by the Varangians. The streets and houses on the way were decorated with all the rich carpets and hangings which had been spared by the three fires and the pillage, and a Frank Emperor was seated on the throne of Constantine with the full approbation of the Holy See.

Again a grave question, that of the division of the conquered territory, occupied the attention of the Doge and the barons. Twenty-lour commissioners, one half of whom were Venetians, were authorized to make the allotment. Venice received the Morea, the Illyric Islands, a large portion of Thessaly, the Sporades, the Cyclades, the cities of Adrianople, Trajanople, Didymotichos, and Durazzo, the province of Servia, and the coasts of the Hellespont. But with all this, the Venetians were not content. They desired possession of Candia, which had been given to Boniface. This island would be most advantageous to a maritime and mercantile nation; but of what use to a prince who had neither ships nor commerce? This reasoning so commended itself to Boniface that he gladly sold the coveted possession to the Republic for thirty pounds weight of gold, or about ten thousand eight hundred pounds sterling.

Various titles were conferred by Baldwin on the companions of his labors and honors. Some of these were most fantastic; and the one suggestion of the weakness of age recorded of Dandolo is that to his dignity of Doge of Venice, Dalmatia, and Croatia, he added the epithet of "Despot and Lord of One Fourth and One Half of the Romanian Empire:" and as indicating that he was second {68} only to Baldwin, he claimed the right to tinge his buskins with the imperial purple!

Thus far all was well; but Baldwin and his friends knew that much serious work remained to be done. Other conquests must be made, and a powerful foe vanquished in Theodore Lascaris, the brave son-in-law of Alexius III., who had many adherents throughout the Empire. But before making any offensive movements it was necessary to obtain provisions and secure reinforcements, which had been promised by the Armenians. The summer was spent in foraging and exploring expeditions, and during the winter the Latins made themselves comfortable in their luxurious quarters.

Baldwin grew very impatient of the delay of the Armenian troops. They were absolutely needful to insure his success in any siege or attack. At last his impatience overcame his prudence; and in March, a small contingent having arrived, he set out for Adrianople, where in April he was joined by Dandolo and the Venetians, who doubled his numbers. The lofty ramparts of the great city could not be easily taken, nor its numerous garrison hastily overcome. The King of Bulgaria with his troops had come to the aid of Lascaris. Fourteen thousand Comans, who, mounted on their fleet steeds, used their bows and lances with unequalled dexterity, continually skirmished almost within bowshot of the army of the Latins, inspiring even these brave soldiers with doubt and hesitation. At length, however, these taunts produced their effect, and the whole Crusading army were eager to chastise the insolence of these barbarians. Even Dandolo, "the Prudent of the Prudent," was as much in favor of an attack as he was ignorant of its risks; and it was settled that he, with a few of the barons, should remain in charge of the camp and siege-works with a reserve corps, while Baldwin should lead the attack.

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With the first movement of the Crusaders, the Comans retreated; and Baldwin, deceived by their tactics, pursued them fully two leagues, when suddenly he perceived that he had been led almost within the lines in which King John had disposed his troops for battle. The Comans then wheeled round and attacked their pursuers with the swiftness of lightning. Just when Baldwin thought himself on the point of victory, the whole Bulgarian army was upon him, and he must retreat or see his own army cut to pieces. He decided on retreat; and Dandolo and Villehardouin were informed by the first stragglers who reached the camp of the total rout of the army, the death of the Count of Blois, and the capture of the Emperor Baldwin.

This news fell upon Dandolo like a thunderbolt, and he immediately saw that a retreat to Constantinople must be made at once. The Bulgarians were approaching, and the Latins were too few to meet them. In the night, in spite of many obstacles, the retreat was begun; after four painful days the old Doge and the remnant of the troops reached the capital, bringing such tidings as overwhelmed the whole city with grief and dread. No news had they of Baldwin's fate; not only the Count of Blois, but the flower of the army of the Crusaders, had been cut off in the retreat; the Bulgarians might soon attack Constantinople; the neighboring cities favored Lascaris, and aided the Comans; and worst of all, they had learned that these bold horsemen had met and destroyed every man of the Armenian army which had been sent to Baldwin. The garrison of the capital was small, provisions were scarce, and it would require months for help to come from Venice, France, or the Vatican.

And now came the crudest blow of all in the death of Dandolo. He died at the Boucoleon on June 14. His disease (dysentery) might have been overcome had his mortification and anxiety been less; he could not survive {70} the thought that the great undertaking to which he had devoted all his powers, and which had been so fruitful of great results, should end ingloriously for Venice and for himself.

He was interred in St. Sophia with imperial honors; his armor was buried with him, and for nearly two centuries and a half his grave was unviolated, and Gentile Bellini had the proud satisfaction of bringing the cuirass, the sword, and the helmet which the great Doge had worn at the taking of Constantinople to Venice, and presenting them to the descendants of the grand old hero.

There is an inexpressible sadness in the death of the Doge under such a weight of sorrow and disappointment, and tortured by apprehensions of evil which were never realized. King John did not suspect the weakness of the Latins; the Comans fled to the north to avoid the summer's heat; and the Bulgarian monarch turned his back on Constantinople, and attacked the King of Thessalonica.

The result of Dandolo's achievements was of vast import and value to his beloved Republic. She acquired world-wide glory and new territory, greater scope for commerce and extended feudal domain; her standard now floated above almost every seaport, large or small, from the Lido to the Golden Horn.

"The great power of Venice over the Adriatic, the Ægean, and especially over the islands mentioned, and over a portion of the Morea, dates from the Latin conquest,--a power which was used, on the whole, well and wisely, which introduced or continued fairly good government, and which has left traces in well-constructed roads and fortresses. But, as was natural, the results of the Latin conquest were more markedly visible in Venice herself than in any of the possessions she obtained. Her marts were filled with merchandise; her ships crowded the great canals and her harbor with the spoils of Asia and the products of the Levant; her architecture reproduced and improved upon that of {71} Constantinople. The spoils of the New Rome were her proudest ornaments. Her wealth rapidly increased. The magnificence of the New Rome was transferred to Venice, which was during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the most splendid of Christian cities."

A fourth of Constantinople was assigned as a residence for the Venetians, where they were permitted to have their own magistrates and laws; throughout the Greek realm the coins, weights, and measures of Venice were recognized, and the treaty of 1198 was resumed with its privileges to Venetian merchants. The Doge of Venice was to be represented in Constantinople by an officer who should protect the commercial interests of Venice in the East. Marino Zeno, who had been a close friend of Dandolo, was at once elected to this office of Balio, or Podestà. Three Councillors of State, a Treasurer and an Advocate, a Court of Proprio and a Court of Justice of the Peace, and a commandant of the troops of the Republic in Romania were sent out to support Zeno in his lofty and arduous duties.

The Venetians cherished the memory of Dandolo. His genius had long added lustre to the Republic, and the news of his death plunged the whole city into sincere mourning. His achievements and the exploits of his army aroused the pride of the Venetians to its highest pitch, and they desired to perpetuate in some stable manner the fame of what is known as the Fourth Crusade. Fortunately the time was propitious to their wishes; the close of the thirteenth century brought a revival of art and literature which, among its many glorious results, numbers the rehearsal of the deeds of Dandolo and his allies by the historians, and the picturing of their immortal achievements upon the walls of the Ducal Palace.

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