Lord God, is there not a great difference between things temporal and things eternal? Surely. That which is temporal we value most when we do not have it, but seems less valuable when we acquire it. Why? Because it fails to satisfy the soul. On the other hand, that which is eternal cannot be diminished through possession. Why? Because no one can set a value on it that is not its own.
Some that pillaged Constantinople did so out of fright, dreading excommunication when they returned unless they might give the church a martyr’s knuckle or shin, mayhap silver enough to smooth the abbot’s palm. Only the Venetians acted with much restraint, albeit they scoured churches and homes and public buildings for what might grace their handsome city. As for merchants from Pisa and Genoa who took up residence in Galata, once Constantinople lay in Frankish hands they streamed toward it avidly, feeling they were dispossessed of shops and trade. Gunther the monk alleges that they murdered two thousand citizens. So reduced was Constantinople that Greeks knelt in the street if pilgrims rode by and laid one finger behind another to form a cross, signifying their mutual faith.
Abbot Martin of Elsass, who did not want to return with nothing to show for the expedition, considered what he might carry off. Because it did not seem virtuous to search for worldly objects he thought of relics. Accompanied by a chaplain he went to the church of Pantokrator, which held the sarcophagus of Emperor Manuel’s mother, Irene. There in the church he saw Jerusalemfarers eagerly helping themselves to gold and silver and precious stones. But as he thought it sacrilegious to rifle a church except in pursuit of some holy cause he ventured deeper. And he encountered an old man with a long beard, a priest, yet not dressed like a priest. Abbot Martin therefore mistook him for a layman and spoke roughly. Come now, said he. Show me your most puissant relics or you shall die! This terrifed the old man and with a few words of Romana lingua he sought to pacify the abbot. He unlocked a coffer bound with iron hoops to show the treasure. Abbot Martin thrust both hands into the coffer to help himself and he filled up the arms of his chaplain, whereupon they departed. As they hastened away from the church they were asked by others if they had stolen anything or not, for if not how could they be so loaded down as they walked. To which Abbot Martin responded that they had done well. Thanks be to God! the others answered. Gunther the monk saw fit to note what this abbot delivered to his church in upper Elsass. One foot of Saint Cosmas the martyr. A tooth of Saint Lawrence. An arm of Saint James. A piece of the skull of Saint Cyprian. A splinter from the Holy Cross. And among other items a trace of His precious blood, shed for our redemption. In these gifts the church exulted.
Chronicles report that Dalmatius de Sergy took the mummified head of Saint Clement from the church of Saint Theodosia and presented it to the monks at Cluny. The bishop of Soissons returned with one arm of John the Baptist, the skull of Saint Stephen, and the questing finger Doubting Thomas thrust into the side of our Lord. As for Robert de Clari, they say he collected numerous relics, which he gave to the church of Saint Peter at Corbie, including thorns from the Crown, a shred of the loincloth He wore on the cross, an arm of Saint Mark, a finger of Saint Helena, and Veronica’s holy sudarium. I have no knowledge of the rest.
King Andrew of Hungary some time afterward took from the Holy Land a length of Aaron’s rod, a water jug used at the marriage feast of Cana, the head of Saint Margaret, the right hand of Saint Thomas, the right hand of Saint Bartholomew. Yet is not simony a doubtful act? Lord, if it please Thee, lighten the darkness of our understanding.
These Latins swore on Holy Gospels to pass through Christian land without spilling blood, looking neither right nor left because they had vowed to oppose Saracens and would spill the blood of Saracens only. They vowed to keep themselves chaste as befits servants of God, but used the inhabitants of Constantinople worse than Saracens. Images that should be adored were trampled underfoot, altars overturned, reliquaries stripped, sacred vessels used for drinking cups as if these Latins might be the vanguard of Antichrist. They brought mules to the doors of churches because they could not by themselves carry off so much. Should a sumpter beast slip on bloody cobblestones, what did they do but stab it. All around took place the most brutal acts. Shrieks, cries, laments, groans from every quarter. Nicetas declares that when he escaped the blazing city he saw the patriarch on a donkey like a follower of Jesus Christ, yet unlike those apostles of old he was very far from entering Jerusalem. Indeed, such hatred did the sack of Constantinople engender that Greeks for a century afterward preferred Islamic falsehood to the Church of Rome. How can it be that God does not prevent what He foresees? How is it that through love of evil we proceed to sin?
Now with Constantinople subject at their feet, with Murzuphulus in exile, the barons resolved to crown a new emperor. They summoned a parliament. However, so many wished to speak that not until next day could twelve electors be chosen. These were the bishops of Soissons, Troyes, Halberstadt, and Bethlehem, the abbot of Lucedio, and the bishop-elect of Acre. Six excellent Venetians were selected. Twelve honorable men. All vowed on the Holy Gospel to be faithful to their appointment, to elect him most fit to rule.
On the ninth of May in that year of our grace 1204 these twelve secluded themselves in a rich chapel at Boukoleon palace. At midnight, the hour of God’s birth, Bishop Nevelon of Soissons appeared. Lords, said he to the barons, we have agreed. And you have sworn that whomever we elect will be your emperor and you will not oppose him, nor in any way help another to oppose him. We have elected a man of gentle birth, Baldwin, count of Flanders and Hainault. Cries of joy met this announcement since Baldwin was descended from Charlemagne, although some who admired Marquis Boniface of Montferrat were dissatisfied. The date set for Baldwin’s coronation was three weeks from Easter.
On that day the high lords, bishops, and abbots, Frankish and Venetian, rode to Boukoleon palace. From there Count Baldwin was borne aloft on his shield in the ancient manner to the church of Sancta Sophia. He was divested of outer garments and they put on him long hose of vermilion samite and slippers encrusted with gems. They clothed him in a tunic sewn with gold buttons, front and back. Over this they placed the ecclesiastic mantle, which hung down in front to his ankles, so long in back that according to tradition it wrapped around his waist and draped over his left arm like the maniple of a priest. The pallium sparkled with valuable stones. They put on him a garment embroidered with eagles, bedizened with so many pearls, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds that it seemed to have caught fire. And when he had been thus vested they escorted him to the altar. The count of Saint-Pol carried his sword. The count of Blois carried his imperial standard. Marquis Boniface bore the crown. All the lords attendant were richly arrayed in samite and fine silk.
At the altar Count Baldwin knelt. They removed his mantle, next the pallium. They unfastened the gold buttons of his tunic to expose his breast so they might anoint him. Then he was dressed as before. The bishops laid hands on the crown to bless it, making the sign of the cross, and together placed it on his head. About his neck they hung a ruby the size of an apple, which long ago had cost Emperor Manuel Comnenus sixty-two thousand marks. Emperor Manuel had worn this gigantic ruby on a green purple robe encrusted with red garnet and pearl in the year 1161 when he entertained Kilij Arslan. Be that as it may, the new emperor ascended to a high throne where he remained while mass was sung, holding the scepter with one hand, in his other hand a golden globe surmounted by a cross.
Afterward he mounted a white charger and was led from Sancta Sophia to Boukoleon where he sat on the great throne of Constantine. There all did homage and those Greeks who were present bowed down. Then they feasted. Now the bishops, abbots, and Latin barons returned to their lodging while Emperor Baldwin remained at his palace. Thus was inaugurated the Latin empire of Constantinople.
In good time the emperor wrote with extreme joy to His Holiness Innocent, boasting of the splendor God had wrought. His Holiness responded in kind that he, too, rejoiced at this work of the Lord.
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p; It may be that none felt more joyous than clerics in Europe when treasure arrived to enrich the churches. Gold candelabra, relics, jeweled icons. They joined voices in godly hymns, praising the fall of a decadent capital, Constantinopolitana Civitas diu profana.
What became of those Greeks that ruled the city? What of Alexius who blinded his own brother and usurped a throne? What of Murzuphulus who strangled the young pretender, proclaimed himself sovereign and escaped through bloody streets? Their wicked lives intertwined as if they were mating serpents. Both sought refuge in Thrace and Murzuphulus made overtures to the treacherous knave who preceded him. Alexius answered that he welcomed Murzuphulus as he might welcome his own son. Indeed, he would give his daughter to Murzuphulus in marriage so they might be truly united. So they conferred, it was done, and the fugitive emperors declared themselves inseparable. Presently here came a gracious invitation. Alexius would have Murzuphulus dine with him, after which they should visit the baths. Murzuphulus accepted. But all things obey their ancient law. No more did this tyrant arrive expecting a pleasant interlude than he was hurled to the floor of a private room and both eyes torn from his head.
What happened next, I do not know. Robert de Clari asserts that a brother to the count of Loos, Thierri, one day went riding to look over his land and while passing through a defile who did he see but the blinded villain followed by numerous ladies, all riding daintily. So my lord Thierri rushed straight at Murzuphulus and caught him and returned him to Constantinople clanking with shackles. Emperor Baldwin thrust him in prison and asked what punishment a man of such evil deserved. One thought he should be hanged. Another thought he should be dragged through the streets until he fell apart. But a venerable scholar mentioned an ancient prophet, the basileus Kyr Leo, who in times past erected a high column with a prophecy on the basement declaring that here a faithless emperor should meet death.
The words of Kyr Leo may come to pass, the scholar said. And the nobles listening to him were astonished.
They went to look at the column. Doge Enrico Dandolo now spoke up, saying that for a tall man such as Murzuphulus there should be high justice. Nor did anyone disagree.
On the day scheduled for execution a mighty crowd gathered to enjoy the spectacle. So there was Murzuphulus hoisted to the top of this pillar and forced to jump. They say every bone in his body shattered and demons swarmed on the mangled flesh to capture his soul.
As for Alexius who blinded his compassionate brother Isaac Angelus for love of a crown, he ended his days at peace in a Nicaean monastery. How mysterious the gaits and forms of providence. Yet we understand that God, Author of all things, is good.
Soon enough His Holiness Innocent found out more of what happened at Constantinople. Blasphemy. Rape. Murder. Theft. It is said he recalled the intent of Venetian merchants. He wrote again to Emperor Baldwin, his fury undisguised.
You undertook to liberate Jerusalem from bondage. You were forbidden under pain of excommunication from molesting Christians unless they refused you passage through their land. You were under the most solemn obligation, but disregarded your vows. You drew your sword not against infidels but against your own. You did not capture Jerusalem, but Constantinople. Your minds were set on earthly riches. But more than this, you held nothing sacred. You gave up yourselves to debauchery. You have violated married women, widows, virgins, even those whose lives were dedicated to Christ. You have stolen from the Emperor. You have stolen from citizens, rich and poor. You have desecrated sanctuaries of the Holy Church. You have stolen sacred icons. You have destroyed images and relics. Therefore it is no surprise that the Church of Greece, however lamentable, rejects obedience to the Holy See. Nor are we surprised that it perceives in you nothing but malevolence and the primacy of Satan.
The rage of His Holiness did not abate. He demanded to know why swords honed to shed pagan blood now dripped with the blood of Greeks. How was it that instead of seeking the purpose of Jesus Christ they had sought ends of their own? Had they not committed incest, adultery, fornication? Had they not plundered the treasuries of princes and churches? Had they not taken silver plates from altars and hacked and melted them? Had they not violated sacrosanct places? Had they not carried off inestimable relics? Furthermore, under what guise might the Church now beseech others to aid Jerusalem? For surely these Franks and Venetians deviated from their purpose by returning laden with booty, guiltless, absolved.
As for the Greeks, they sent word privily to the king of Vlachs and Bulgars, Johanitza, avowing they would make him emperor if he would rid Constantinople of these Latins. Johanitza had reason to hate the Franks. When he was young he was called John the Vlach and tended horses at the Greek court. If sixty animals were needed, or an hundred, he brought them. One day, according to Robert de Clari, a court eunuch struck him across the face with a whip. Nicetas Choniates asserts that it was not John but his older brother whom the eunuch punished. Whatever the fact, John left court burning with humiliation and returned to Vlachia. There he got a Coman wife and presently made himself lord of these Comans. He began conducting raids as far as the gates of Constantinople and the Greeks were afraid of him. And when the Franks besieged Constantinople he sent word that he would bring one hundred thousand warriors to help them take the city if they would make him king of Vlachia. The barons were surprised. After discussing it they sent word that they needed no help from Johanitza, nor did they care much for him. Further, they would cause him much harm if they could.
Johanitza appealed to His Holiness Innocent. And the pontiff reflected that he might gather these distant Vlachs, Comans, and Bulgars to the Latin church. Therefore he despatched Cardinal Leo with a diadem and scepter, with authority to crown Johanitza and to confer the dignity of primate on Basil, archbishop of Trnovo. All this according to papal missives dated the twenty-fifth of February in the year of our Lord 1204. Thus a provincial youth who had been a sergeant combing horses acquired a throne. He did not forget the court eunuch, nor the insult delivered by Frankish barons.
Now because a Latin empire had been inaugurated, and a Frank wore the crown of Greek emperors, there was tumult. The city of Adrianople revolted. Emperor Baldwin marched away to besiege the city when all at once here came Johanitza with a multitude of Coman warriors. These savages drink milk and live in tents and do not worship anything except the first animal they see in the morning. Each warrior has eight or ten well-trained horses, which enables him to travel a huge distance without stopping by riding one horse after another. And wherever these people go they take captives. It is said the Franks laughed because the Comans wore sheepskin and resembled sheep, and joked that an army of sheep was threatening them. However, three hundred Frankish knights went to sleep in Christ while others retreated to the safety of Constantinople, Doge Enrico Dandolo among them, leaving the earth around Adrianople wet with Frankish blood. Thus did the Lord God castigate these arrogant pilgrims, chastise them, remind them of bad faith and pride.
As for Baldwin, Johanitza led him captive to the city of Trnovo and chopped off his feet and threw him into a deep gorge.
Before long a Coman army trapped Marquis Boniface outside the city of Mosynopolis, took his head and delivered it to Johanitza. Nevertheless, all things are embraced by a certain and perfect order. Johanitza some time afterward rode to the gates of Thessalonika where he put up siege engines. But here lay the corpse of Saint Demetrius who would not allow Thessalonika to be captured. Saint Demetrius climbed out of his sarcophagus, walked to the tent of King Johanitza and thrust a lance through him.
As to Doge Enrico Dandolo who diverted these Christians from the Holy Land, he gave up the ghost comfortably at a very old age in the palace of Boukoleon and was buried with full rites in the church of Sancta Sophia. Some have called this inappropriate, a fortuitous harvest. Yet we know how the Lord God cannot be mistaken since He foresees all things.
It may be argued that in Constantinople the heretic troubadours of France were born. Princess Anna relates how during the re
ign of her father Alexius an unfamiliar and noxious cloud appeared. Sectarians. A monk, Basil, guided them, with twelve followers misnamed Apostles, which is blasphemy. They spewed poison, infected Christian souls, and derelict women trafficked at their heels much as happens in our day. Bogomil they styled themselves after some unclean priest, hiding their wickedness beneath cowl and cloak. Even so, the emperor lured them into daylight as cleverly as one draws a serpent from its crevice. He invited Basil to the palace and when this ape of darkness arrived Alexius courteously got up from his throne and otherwise pretended he would like nothing more than to hear the doctrine of Bogomil. My one desire, said he, is salvation of my soul. I pray you help me understand your teaching since the dogma of our Christian church is not conducive to virtue, he continued with a look of supplication, smearing the cup with honey. Now was the excessive pride of Basil puffed up. And like Renard coaxing that raven to sing in order to snatch the cheese, Alexius urgently flattered him. And the ape of darkness, hearing this, vomited forth his foul belief. Holy churches he described as temples of demons. At the divine nature of our Lord he looked askance. Other hideous blasphemies did he utter, proudly. But when the emperor had heard enough he gestured, a curtain flew apart and here was a scribe copying down each loathsome falsehood.
Alexius now rooted out those thought to be apostate and brought them together on the polo field where two funeral pyres were blazing. Some denied the charge of heresy while others hugged the corruption to their breast. All must burn, Alexius said, and he gestured for a cross to be set beside one fire. Go to that of your choice, he said, yet surely it is better to seek the loving embrace of God than plunge downward to hell cloaked with flame. True Christians then marched joyously toward the cross while Bogomil disdained it. And when he saw how these Christians would accept martyrdom for the Lord he turned them loose. The followers of Basil he cast in prison where they were visited and instructed by church elders. Some would die wrapped in the filthy rags of misbelief, others freed after comprehending their mistake.
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