The request placed the crusade leaders – who certainly knew better – in an awkward position. The city in question was Zara, technically owned by the King of Hungary, who had actually vowed to join the crusade as soon as he had settled his personal affairs. Even worse, Zara was a thoroughly Christian city, and therefore hardly an appropriate target to kick off a crusade.
The Byzantine Offer
Boniface was reluctant, but there were no other options that he could think of. In any case, his hero Richard the Lionheart had hardly shown any qualms about attacking the Christians of Sicily or Cyprus. Reluctantly, Boniface gave his blessing to the plan. Just as the great crusading fleet was preparing to depart, Boniface received an unusual visitor. He came on behalf of a Byzantine prince named Alexius Angelus, and he carried an astonishing offer.
The political situation in Constantinople had deteriorated considerably since the Third Crusade. The reigning emperor, Isaac II Angelus, a weak and ineffectual ruler, had been overthrown by his brother Alexius III. The new emperor had taken the precaution of gouging out his predecessor's eyes and throwing him into the main dungeon of the imperial palace. The miserable Isaac was then joined by his son Alexius Angelus, who was easily rounded up in a purge of the old regime.
The crown prince showed more pluck than his father and had mounted a daring escape with the aid of two visiting Italian merchants. He had been smuggled to Germany where he learned of the crusading army gathering in Venice, and had sent his ambassadors to Boniface to enlist their aid. If the crusaders would champion his cause and remove the vile usurper, Alexius promised, the grateful citizens of Constantinople would shower them with untold riches. Their debts to Venice would easily be paid – with plenty to spare – and Alexius would personally lead the Byzantine army alongside the crusaders to restore Jerusalem.
The offer was a tantalizing one. With the wealth and prestige of Byzantium behind them, the crusade would be immeasurably strengthened. Restoring the rightful emperor would fulfill chivalric duty and – since Alexius and Boniface were distantly related by marriage – would help out a kinsman. Best of all, they would all be free from the crushing debt to Venice. The fact that Isaac II Angelus had himself been a usurper, was conveniently overlooked.123 Boniface eagerly assured the ambassadors of his favor and asked Alexius to rendezvous with the army as soon as possible.
In the meantime there was business to attend to at Zara. Enrico Dandolo had outdone himself in a rousing sermon to the crusaders the week before they left, when he – in a masterful stroke of political theater – had sunk to his knees and taken the cross in front of the whole army. This gallantry had somewhat eased the misgivings of the common soldiers about the detour to Zara, as did the sight of the splendid galley of the doge leading the fleet, complete with bright red awning, crashing symbols, and fanfare of trumpets.
The aura of excitement and good will was abruptly punctured when the crusaders actually reached Zara. The desperate defenders hung crosses from the walls, and a letter arrived from the pope forbidding an attack on a fellow Christian city. This put the crusaders in a difficult moral position. Medieval society was held together by its oaths, and they had sworn on their honor to assist Venice by taking Zara. Doing so would now put their souls at risk; obeying the pope would make them oath breakers.
As always, Enrico Dandolo had an answer. When the crusaders had originally gone to Venice to ask for ships, a papal legate had advised them to do whatever was necessary to keep the army intact. Wasn't this tacit permission to keep the Venetian deal?
A few of the crusaders drifted away, disgusted by the blatant hijacking of the crusade, but the vast majority were swayed by the doge. Surely the pope would understand when he had all the facts. The siege went forward, and within a week the city had fallen. The spoils had hardly been divided when a papal bull arrived excommunicating the entire crusade.
Boniface of Montferrat did his best to suppress the news, and dispatched messengers to Rome to explain his actions and ask forgiveness. His petition was considerably sweetened by fresh news from his Byzantine allies. The young Alexius Angelus, increasingly desperate to find aid, had considerably expanded his offer. Not only would he add ten thousand men to the army and staff the reconquered Holy Land with a permanent defensive force, but now he would also place the Orthodox Church under the authority of Rome. A hundred and fifty years of schism between the Eastern and Western halves of Christendom would be healed, the crusader's debts would be wiped away, and the future of Jerusalem would be ensured.
The only trouble was that most of the crusaders wanted nothing to do with Alexius Angelus. They had signed on to the crusade – and endured the humiliation of a Venetian imprisonment and subsequent morally ambiguous attack on Zara – to restore Jerusalem to Christendom. Anything else was a distraction. The pope would most likely forgive Zara once the facts were known, why run the risk of offending him again by attacking the most famous Christian city in the world?
Once again, the leaders of the crusade took matters into their own hands. Boniface and the doge signed an agreement with Alexius, figuring that even if they lost a few soldiers, most of the army would grudgingly accept a fait accompli. They were quickly proved correct. Although a few thousand melted away in disgust, the rest were content to take a final detour on the condition that it would be brief. Alexius assured them it would be, adding that they would be greeted as saviors by the population of Constantinople.
From the beginning there were troubling signs. For one thing, Alexius was clearly not as popular as he made out. When the crusading fleet reached the island of Corfu and informed the population that they had come to restore the rightful emperor, the citizens responded by attempting to lynch Alexius. Then word arrived from the pope that under no circumstances were they to listen to the would-be emperor.
Before Alexius had reached the crusade, he had visited Rome in a bid to enlist support. The pontiff had not been impressed. His letter left no doubt that neither Alexius nor his blinded father were legitimate emperors, and that the crusaders should have nothing to do with them. "Let none among you", he wrote to Boniface, "rashly convince yourselves that you may plunder Greek lands on the pretext that... the emperor of Constantinople deposed and blinded his brother."124
It was easy enough for Boniface and Dandolo – who had come too far to stop now – to suppress the papal letter. By now the crusade had reached Constantinople, and the awe of seeing the legendary city had temporarily pushed everything else from the mind.
Arrival at Constantinople
Constantinople, the queen of cities, sat nestled on the Golden Horn125 like an elegant crown. Its sheer scale defied description. Nearly a dozen of Western Europe's largest cities could have fit comfortably within its bounds, and its population of nearly a million souls surpassed that of some kingdoms. In its dazzling churches and public squares, the crusaders came face to face with the unconquered capital of the Roman Empire. 'No man', wrote the crusader Geoffrey of Villehardouin, 'was so brave or daring that he did not shudder at the sight.'126
A good part of the awe felt was due to the impregnability of the fortifications. The entire city was surrounded by walls thick enough to have shrugged off centuries of invaders, and the usurper Alexius III had an army at least three times the size of the crusade to garrison it.127 As the tiny crusader fleet sailed by, they were greeted with a kind of bemused curiosity. An oddity perhaps, but no real threat.
Any optimism that had survived the first glance at the city disappeared when the crusader's reached their camp. They had been repeatedly assured that the people of the city would greet them as saviors, but there was a noticeable lack of cheering crowds. After a week of waiting, it began to dawn on them that perhaps Alexius had overstated his popularity in the capital. This was dramatically confirmed when the prince was rowed near the city walls to announce that he had come to claim his rightful throne. Howls of laughter echoed down, followed by a flurry of rocks and whatever other projectiles were near at hand.
The usurper Alexius III was not a particularly inspiring figure. The act of taking the throne – which had involved ambushing his brother while they were hunting – had taken all of his energy. The responsibility of fighting off an army, despite having the odds heavily in his favor, was simply too much. Taking whatever treasure was at hand, he fled, abandoning the city to its fate.
Alexius IV Angelus
The people of Constantinople, leaderless and bewildered by recent events, did the most sensible thing they could think of. These westerners had come on behalf of the emperor Alexius had deposed, so if he was restored to the throne perhaps they would go away. Old Isaac Angelus, completely blind and half insane, was hauled out of his prison and re-crowned as the official Roman Emperor. Messengers were quickly sent to the crusader's camp, urging them to call off the attack and inviting Alexius Angelus to claim his rightful throne as co-emperor with his father.
The reunion wasn't a happy one. As senile as he was, Isaac was appalled at the promises his son had made to the crusaders. The imperial monuments may have looked gaudy to the outside world, but the truth was that decades of mismanagement had left the central government nearly impoverished. There was little, however, that the broken old man could do. With the Venetians seemingly everywhere, the native population demoralized, and his willful son making ever more lavish promises, he bowed to the inevitable.
For the first few weeks everything went well. The young prince, freshly crowned as Alexius IV, hosted his Venetian and French friends to several opulent soirees, ignoring the sullen looks his citizens gave them. At the same time, he tried to make good on his promises, dispatching a letter to Egypt to warn the sultan that he was about to get swept from the Christian homelands.
When it came time to pay his debts, however, things began to spin out of control. A quick inspection of the treasury revealed that Alexius had less than half of the funds that he had rashly promised to the crusaders. He tried to make up the deficit with new taxes, but that only destroyed the little popularity he had left. Increasingly desperate, he stooped to sending officials to ransack churches for their communion plate and reliquaries. Not even the dead were safe from the grasping imperial tax collectors. Officials were sent to search the tombs of long dead emperors to strip them of any precious ornaments.
Before long, Alexius had backed himself into a corner. His attempts to find money had made him so dangerously unpopular that the only thing keeping him on the throne was the presence of the crusader army just outside the city walls. It had also exhausted every conceivable source of revenue. Any further attempts to confiscate money would surely provoke a rebellion.
In addition to outraging his own citizens, he had also managed to alienate most of the crusaders. They had done everything that he had asked of them, and were mystified why the ruler of such an obviously wealthy city wouldn't just pay what he owed. The conclusion, inevitably, was that he was holding out on them.
In large part, this was due to the machinations of Enrico Dandolo. The shrewd doge had taken the measure of Alexius early, using him to divert the crusade to extremely lucrative ends. Now that it was obvious that there was nothing more to be wrung from this particular pawn – Alexius had clearly exhausted his resources – Dandolo's mind had most likely moved on to bigger things. Why settle for a tame emperor when he could have the whole empire?
Inside the city, the population had reached breaking point. When news got out that Alexius was considering turning over the imperial palace as collateral to the swaggering crusaders, a mob formed demanding a new emperor. In the chaos, a nobleman named Mourtzouphlos managed to overthrow Alexius by the simple expedient of walking into his bedroom. Informing the terrified emperor that a mob was howling for his blood, Mourtzouphlos offered to take him to safety. Throwing a towel over the emperor's head, Mourtzouphlos led him straight to the dungeons, where he was soon miserably reunited with his father Isaac in the confinement that neither of them should ever have left. The next morning Mourtzouphlos was crowned emperor.
News of the coup nearly undid all of Dandolo's plans. Most of the crusaders were eager to get on to Jerusalem, and had never really been enthusiastic about Constantinople in the first place. The emperor they had made a deal with was no longer in a position to do anything for them, and in fact, had been quietly murdered along with his blind father. The best course of action now was to cut their losses and head for the Holy City.
Dandolo was too close to his goal to be denied now. When the rank and file demanded that their leaders issue the command to depart, he smoothly countered that they were now fighting to avenge a foul murder. It's true that the crusade had started out to free Jerusalem, but they now had an opportunity to heal the wounds within Christendom itself. Pointing out that the crusaders were still in debt to the Venetians, he argued that only Byzantine greed had kept them from reaping their rich rewards. They had all seen the city, the rich silk clothes, the countless relics, the gold-roofed churches, and the immense marble palaces. They were owed payment and if the Byzantines wouldn't give it, it was up to the crusaders to take it by force. Conquering the city would restore what they were owed, punish an imperial murder, and place the Orthodox Church under the authority of the pope. What holier work was there than that? These arguments mixing veiled threats, appeals to greed, and high-minded principles carried the day. On April 9, 1204, a crusading army attacked the capital of the oldest and most important Christian state on earth.
The Sack of Constantinople
The struggle was surprisingly brief. The blind doge himself led the attack, sailing gallantly on his magnificent barge right up to the walls. On the third day of fighting, a small group of knights found an old bricked-up gate and managed to pry enough mortar away to squeeze through. Despite a huge numerical advantage, the startled defenders immediately fled.
Mourtzouphlos made a valiant effort to save the situation, singlehandedly charging the group, but no one rallied to his cause. The quality of the imperial troops was too poor, and the morale of the citizens too low for any real resistance. As the entire crusading army surged inside, Mourtzouphlos fled, leaving the city to its fate.
Constantinople was at the mercy of the crusaders, but its sheer size achieved what the Byzantine army couldn't, and stopped the crusaders in their tracks. Unsure of what to do next, the western knights paused, considering their options. They were still heavily outnumbered, and a well-timed counterattack would cut them to pieces in the warren of the city's streets. Even now, some senator or noble might be out there organizing the defense. A quick council of war was called and the decision was made to fortify the ground they had taken. Make-shift walls were thrown up in one of the city's immense public squares, and a defensive fire was set among nearby houses to prevent any citizens from ambushing them.
That night, both crusaders and Byzantines slept uneasily. The strange quiet after days of fighting, combined with the fact that the crusaders weren't advancing, allowed a flicker of hope among many of the citizens. The westerners had attacked when Mourtzouphlos had usurped the throne, perhaps they would be content with picking his successor.
When morning came, the Byzantines began to line the grand avenues of the city, clutching their icons, ready to greet their new emperor – whoever it might be. They were met instead by a frenzied mob.
The westerners had awoken to find the richest city in the world at their feet. The realization that there would be no counter-attack – that everything they saw was theirs for the taking – had unleashed all the pent-up frustrations of the last year. Armed men swarmed down the wide boulevards, slaughtering everyone they met. The grand palaces were
ransacked, churches were looted, and reliquaries and icons were pulled apart for their precious metals. In the imperial mausoleum, the sarcophagi were smashed open, and the bodies of dead emperors were dumped out to be stripped of whatever rings, clothes, and jewelry had escaped Alexius’ agents.128
The scale of the cultural loss was mind-boggling. Constantine the Great and his immediate successors had brought much of the finest art of the Hellenistic world to Constantinople; the great statue of Athena from the Parthenon, a bronze trio depicting Augustus celebrating his victory over Antony and Cleopatra, countless images of emperors, gods, and heroes. Most were melted down for coins or smashed in the hysteria. A statue of Helen of Troy, described by a contemporary as 'fairer than the evening air, clad in the beauty of a thousand stars', was wrenched off of its pedestal and broken up with hammers. Precious manuscripts preserving works long lost in the west were destroyed for their jeweled covers, or burned in the endless fires. Marble statuary was smashed, relics destroyed, and libraries consumed by the flames.
Even worse than the physical destruction, however, was the spiritual damage. The crusaders had inflicted a wound to Christendom that still festers today. They had pledged to liberate the holy places of Jerusalem, and instead had systematically violated Byzantium's churches. In the Hagia Sophia, the city's greatest church, they had smashed apart the high altar, seized the communion vessels, and had a French prostitute perform a mocking dance on the patriarchal throne.
In Distant Lands Page 19