The great siege of Constantinople by the Latin Crusaders is one of
the most tempting subjects to dilate upon that history affords. After
casting a retrospective glance at this city, or rather this empire,
for, as Paris is said to be France, so was Constantinople the empire
of the East; and contemplating its glories and disasters, from its
foundation upon Byzantium, by Constantine, to its capture by Mahomet
II., of all the events connected with it, its siege and plunder by
a handful of Christian knights is one of the most extraordinary and
interesting. But to relate all the particulars of this siege would
require a volume, and we, alas! can only afford a few pages to it. In
this predicament we turn from Michaud, who tells the tale admirably, to
the quite as elegant but more brief account of Gibbon, to whose words,
or nearly so, we shall confine ourselves.
Europe had taken up the cross for the fifth time: the forces destined
to act against the infidels were upon the point of embarking for the
Holy Land, when young Alexius, son of Isaac Angelus, the emperor of
Constantinople, came to implore the succour of the Christian princes in
favour of his father. An ambitious brother had dethroned him, deprived
him of sight, and then confined him in a loathsome prison. Touched
by his prayers, but _still more by the advantages he offered_, the
Crusaders set sail for Constantinople. Although this Crusade was got
up by a pope, and professed to be for the relief of Jerusalem, it was
more honest in the public exposition of its views than any other. After
studying the history of these most amazing expeditions deeply, we are
come to a conviction that real religion had but a very small share in
them: they were something like the voyages of the Spanish adventurers
to Columbus’s newly-discovered world; the latter, likewise, went under
the auspices of a pope, and always hoisted the standard of the cross
upon taking possession of a previously unknown land, and to which they
had no earthly claim:--the Crusades were capital means for keeping up
the influence of the popes, and the fanatics they disseminated through
society; but with the princes, barons, and knights, they were nothing
but expeditions in search of fortune. That we may include safely the
great military orders in this, is proved by the wealth they amassed.
But this fifth Crusade was an adventure commenced by needy and
ambitious men, into which the Venetians entered with all the astuteness
of usurious money-lenders. Every one feels an interest in fine old
Dandolo, but even his chivalric character suffers by the recollection
constantly present to the mind, of the motives which brought his noble
qualities into action. This Crusade is one of the most instructive
passages of history. The real objects of the Crusaders being made
apparent by their conduct when success was obtained, we need not
hesitate to say that it was framed with a view to wrong; being carried
out by men of courage and ability, it succeeded even beyond their
hopes: but what was the consequence? There was no principle of good
in it; and that which had begun so grandly came to a most “lame
and impotent conclusion.” It proved one of the shortest-lived great
revolutions in the annals of mankind.
“In relating the invasion of a great empire, it may seem strange that
I have not described the obstacles which should have checked the
progress of the strangers. The Greeks, in truth, were an unwarlike
people; but they were rich, industrious, and subject to the will of a
single man,--had that man been capable of fear when his enemies were at
a distance, or of courage when they approached his person. The first
rumours of his nephew’s alliance with the French and Venetians were
despised by the usurper; his flatterers persuaded him that in this
contempt he was bold and sincere, and each evening, on the close of
the banquet, he thrice discomfited the barbarians of the West. These
barbarians had been justly terrified by the report of his naval power;
and the sixteen hundred fishing-boats of Constantinople could have
manned a fleet to sink them in the Adriatic, or stop their entrance
in the mouth of the Hellespont. But all force may be annihilated by
the negligence of a prince or the venality of his ministers. The great
duke, or admiral, made a scandalous, almost a public, auction of the
sails, the masts, and the rigging; the royal forests were reserved for
the more important purposes of the chase; and the trees, says Nicetas,
were guarded by the eunuchs, like the groves of religious worship. From
his dream of pride Alexius was awakened by the siege of Zara, and the
rapid advances of the Latins; as soon as he saw the danger was real,
he thought it inevitable, and his vain presumption was lost in abject
despondency and despair. He suffered these contemptible barbarians to
pitch their tents within sight of his palace, and his apprehensions
were thinly disguised by the pomp and menace of a suppliant embassy.
The sovereign of the Romans was astonished (his ambassadors were
instructed to say) at the hostile appearance of the strangers. If these
pilgrims were sincere in their views for the deliverance of Jerusalem,
his voice must applaud and his treasures should assist their pious
design; but should they dare to invade the sanctuary of empire, their
numbers, were they ten times more considerable, should not protect
them from his just resentment. The answer of the doge and barons was
simple and magnanimous. ‘In the cause of honour and justice,’ they
said, ‘we despise the usurper of Greece, his threats, and his offers.
_Our_ friendship and _his_ allegiance are due to the lawful heir, to
the young prince who is seated among us, and to his father, the emperor
Isaac, who has been deprived of his sceptre, his freedom, and his eyes,
by the crime of an ungrateful brother. Let that brother confess his
guilt and implore forgiveness, and we ourselves will intercede, that
he may be permitted to live in affluence and security. But let him not
insult us by a second message: our reply will be made in arms, in the
palace of Constantinople.’
“On the tenth day of their encampment at Scutari, the Crusaders
prepared themselves as soldiers and as Catholics for the passage of
the Bosphorus. Perilous indeed was the adventure: the stream was broad
and rapid; in a calm, the current of the Euxine might drive down the
liquid and unextinguishable fire of the Greeks; and the opposite
shores of Europe were defended by seventy thousand horse and foot in
formidable array. On this memorable day, which happened to be bright
and pleasant, the Latins were distributed in six battles or divisions:
the first, or vanguard, was led by the count of Flanders, one of the
most powerful of the Christian princes in the skill and numbers of his
cross-bows. The four successive battles of the French were commanded
by his brother Henry, the counts of St. Pol and Blois, and Matthew of
Montmorency, the last of whom was honoured by the voluntary service of
the marshal and nobles of Champagne. The sixth division, the rear-guard
and reserve of the army, was conducted by the marquis of Montferrat,
at the head of the Germans and Lombards. The chargers, saddled, with
their long caparisons dragging on the ground, were embarked in the
flat _palanders_, and the knights stood by the side of their horses in
complete armour, their helmets laced and their lances in their hands.
Their numerous train of serjeants and archers occupied the transports,
and each transport was towed by the strength and swiftness of a galley.
The six divisions traversed the Bosphorus without encountering an enemy
or an obstacle; to land the foremost, was the wish; to conquer or die,
was the resolution of every division and of every soldier. Jealous of
the pre-eminence of danger, the knights in their heavy armour leaped
into the sea when it rose as high as their girdle; the serjeants and
archers were animated by their valour; and the squires, letting down
the drawbridges of the _palanders_, led the horses to the shore. Before
the squadrons could mount and form and couch their lances, the seventy
thousand Greeks had vanished from their sight; the timid Alexius gave
the example to his troops; and it was only by the plunder of the rich
pavilions that the Latins were informed they fought against an emperor.
In the first consternation of the flying enemy, they resolved by a
double attack to open the entrance of the harbour. The tower of Galata,
in the suburb of Pera, was attacked and stormed by the French, while
the Venetians assumed the more difficult task of forcing the boom,
or chain, that was stretched from that tower to the Byzantine shore.
After some fruitless attempts, their intrepid perseverance prevailed;
twenty ships of war, the relics of the Grecian navy, were either sunk
or taken; the enormous and massy links of iron were cut asunder by the
shears or broken by the weight of the galleys; and the Venetian fleet,
safe and triumphant, rode at anchor in the port of Constantinople. By
these daring achievements, a remnant of twenty thousand Latins preluded
the astounding attempt of besieging a capital containing above four
hundred thousand inhabitants, able, though not willing, to bear arms
in defence of their country. Such an account would, indeed, suppose a
population of near two millions; but whatever abatement may be required
in the numbers of the Greeks, the _belief_ of these numbers will
equally exalt the fearless spirit of their assailants.
“In the choice of attack, the French and Venetians were divided by
their habits of life and warfare. The latter affirmed with truth, that
Constantinople was most accessible on the side of the sea and the
harbour; the former might assert with honour, that they had long enough
trusted their lives and fortunes to a frail bark and a precarious
element, and loudly demanded a trial of knighthood, a firm ground, and
a close onset, either on foot or horseback. After a prudent compromise
of employing the two nations by sea and land in the service best suited
to their character, the fleet covering the army, they both proceeded
from the entrance to the extremity of the harbour. The stone bridge
of the river was hastily repaired; and the six battles of the French
formed their encampment against the front of the capital, the basis
of the triangle which runs about four miles from the port to the
Propontis. On the edge of a broad ditch at the foot of a lofty rampart,
they had leisure to contemplate the difficulties of their enterprise.
The gates to the right and left of their narrow camp poured forth
frequent sallies of cavalry and light infantry, which cut off their
stragglers, swept the country of provisions, sounded the alarm five
or six times in the course of each day, and compelled them to plant
a palisade and sink an intrenchment for their immediate safety. In
the supplies and convoys, the Venetians had been too sparing, or the
Franks too voracious; the usual complaints of hunger and scarcity were
heard, and perhaps felt; their stock of flour would be exhausted in
three weeks; and their disgust of salt meat tempted them to taste the
flesh of their horses. The trembling usurper was supported by Theodore
Lascaris, his son-in-law, a valiant youth, who aspired to save and rule
his country. The Greeks, regardless of that country, were awakened
to the defence of their religion; but their firmest hope was in the
strength and spirit of the Varangian guards of Danes and English, as
they are named by the writers of the times. After ten days’ incessant
labour, the ground was levelled, the ditch filled, the approaches of
the besiegers were regularly made, and two hundred and fifty engines of
assault exercised their various powers to clear the ramparts, to batter
the walls, and to sap the foundations. On the first appearance of a
breach, the scaling-ladders were applied; the numbers that defended
the vantage-ground repulsed and oppressed the venturous Latins; but
they admired the resolution of fifteen knights and serjeants, who,
having gained the ascent, maintained their position till they were
hurled down or made prisoners by the imperial guards. On the side of
the harbour, the naval 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, a venerable and
conspicuous form, stood aloft in complete armour, 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 the 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. The doge had despatched the
intelligence of his success, when he was checked by the danger of
his confederates. Nobly declaring that he would rather die with the
pilgrims than gain a victory by their destruction, Dandolo relinquished
his advantage, recalled his troops, and hastened to the scene of
action. He found the six weary _battles_ of the Franks encompassed
by sixty squadrons of the Greek cavalry, the least of which was more
numerous than the largest of their divisions. Shame and despair had
provoked Alexius to the last effort of a general sally; but he was awed
by the firm order and manly aspect of the Latins; and after skirmishing
at a distance, withdrew his troops in the close of the evening. The
silence or tumult of the night exasperated his fears; and the timid
usurper, collecting a treasure of ten thousand pounds of gold, basely
deserted his wife, his people, and his fortune; threw himself into a
bark, stole through the Bosphorus, and landed in shameful safety in an
obscure harbour of Thrace. As soon as they were apprised of his flight,
the Greek nobles sought pardon and peace in the dungeon where the blind
Isaac expected each hour the visit of the executioner. Again saved and
exalted by the vicissitudes of fortune, the captive, in his imperial
robes, was replaced on the throne and surrounded with prostrate slaves,
whose real terror and affected joy he was incapable of discerning. At
the dawn of day, hostilities were suspended; and the Latin chiefs were
surprised by a message from the lawful and reigning emperor, who was
impatient to embrace his son and reward his generous deliverers.
“But these generous deliverers were unwilling to release their hostage
till they had obtained from his father the payment, or, at least, the
promise of their recompense. They chose four ambassadors,--Montmorency,
our historian Villehardouin, and two Venetians, to congratulate the
emperor. The gates were thrown open on their approach, the streets on
both sides were lined with the battle-axes of the Danish and English
guard; the presence-chamber glittered with gold and jewels--the false
substitutes of virtue and power. By the side of the blind Isaac
was seated his wife, the sister of the king of Hungary; and by her
appearance, the noble matrons of Greece were drawn from their domestic
retirement, and mingled with the circle of senators and soldiers. The
Latins, by the mouth of Villehardouin, spoke like men conscious of
their merits, but who respected the work of their own hands; and the
emperor clearly understood that his son’s engagements with Venice and
the pilgrims must be ratified without hesitation or delay. Withdrawing
into a private chamber with the empress, a chamberlain, an interpreter,
and the four ambassadors, the father of young Alexius inquired with
some anxiety into the nature of his stipulations. The submission of the
Eastern empire to the pope; the succour of the Holy Land; and a present
contribution of two hundred thousand marks of silver. ‘These conditions
are weighty,’ was his prudent reply: ‘they are hard to accept and
difficult to perform. But no conditions can exceed the measure of
your services and deserts.’ After this satisfactory assurance, the
barons mounted on horseback and introduced the heir of Constantinople
to the city and palace. His youth and marvellous adventures engaged
every heart in his favour; and Alexius was solemnly crowned with his
father in the dome of St. Sophia. In the first days of his reign, the
people, already blessed with the restoration of plenty and peace, were
delighted by the joyful catastrophe of the tragedy; and the discontent
of the nobles, their regrets and their fears, were covered by the
polished surface of pleasure and loyalty. The mixture of two discordant
nations in the same capital might have been pregnant with mischief
and danger; and the suburb of Galata, or Pera, was assigned for the
quarters of the Franks and the Venetians. But the liberty of trade and
familiar intercourse was allowed between the friendly nations; and each
day the pilgrims were tempted by devotion or curiosity to visit the
churches and palaces of Constantinople. Their rude minds, insensible
perhaps of the finer arts, were astonished by the magnificent scenery;
and the poverty of their native towns enhanced the populousness
and riches of the first metropolis of Christendom. Descending from
his state, young Alexius was prompted by interest and gratitude to
repeat his frequent and familiar visits to his Latin allies; and in
the freedom of the table, the gay petulance of the French sometimes
forgot the emperor of the East. In their most serious conferences, it
was agreed that the reunion of the two churches must be the result of
patience and time; but avarice was less tractable than zeal; and a
large sum was instantly disbursed to appease the wants and silence the
importunity of the Crusaders. Alexius was alarmed by the approaching
hour of their departure; their absence might have relieved him from
the engagement he was yet incapable of performing; but his friends
would have left him naked and alone, to the caprice and prejudice of
a perfidious nation. He wished to bribe their stay, the delay of a
year, by undertaking to defray their expense, and to satisfy in their
name the freight of the Venetian vessels. The offer was agitated in
the council of the barons, and after a repetition of their debates
and scruples, a majority of votes again acquiesced in the advice of
the doge and the prayer of the young emperor. At the price of sixteen
hundred pounds of gold, he prevailed on the marquis of Montferrat to
lead him with an army round the provinces of Europe, to establish his
authority and pursue his uncle, while Constantinople was awed by the
presence of Baldwin and his confederates of France and Flanders. The
expedition was successful; the blind emperor exulted in the success of
his arms, and listened to the predictions of his flatterers that the
same Providence which had raised him from the dungeon to the throne
would heal his gout, restore his sight, and watch over the long
prosperity of his reign. Yet the mind of the suspicious old man was
tormented by the rising glories of his son; nor could his pride conceal
from his envy, that whilst his own name was pronounced in faint and
reluctant acclamations, the royal youth was the theme of spontaneous
and universal praise.
“By the recent invasion the Greeks were awakened from a dream of
nine centuries, from the vain presumption that the capital of the
Roman empire was impregnable to foreign arms. The strangers of the
West had violated the city, and bestowed the sceptre of Constantine;
their imperial clients soon became as unpopular as themselves; the
well-known vices of Isaac were rendered still more contemptible by his
infirmities, and the young Alexius was hated as an apostate, who had
renounced the manners and religion of his country. His secret covenant
with the Latins was divulged or suspected; the people, and especially
the clergy, were devoutly attached to their faith and superstition;
and every convent and every shop resounded with the danger of the
Church and the tyranny of the Pope. An empty treasury could ill
supply the demands of regal luxury and foreign extortion; the Greeks
refused to avert, by a general tax, the impending evils of servitude
and pillage; the oppression of the rich excited a more dangerous and
personal resentment; and if the emperor melted the plate, and despoiled
the images of the sanctuary, he seemed to justify the complaints of
heresy and sacrilege. During the absence of Marquis Boniface and his
imperial pupil, Constantinople was visited with a calamity which
might be justly imputed to the zeal and indiscretion of the Flemish
pilgrims. In one of their visits to the city, they were scandalized by
the aspect of a mosch, or synagogue, in which one God was worshipped
without a partner or a son. Their effectual mode of controversy was to
attack the infidels with the sword, and their habitations with fire;
but the infidels, and some Christian neighbours, presumed to defend
their lives and properties; and the flames which bigotry had kindled
consumed the most orthodox and innocent structures. During eight days
and nights the conflagration spread above a league in front, from the
harbour to the Propontis, over the thickest and most populous regions
of the city. It is not easy to count the stately palaces and churches
that were reduced to a smoking ruin, to value the merchandise that
perished in the trading streets, or to number the families that were
involved in the common destruction. By this outrage, which the doge
and barons in vain affected to disclaim, the name of the Latins became
still more unpopular, and the colony of that nation, above fifteen
thousand persons, consulted their safety in a hasty retreat from the
city to the protection of their standard in the suburb of Pera. The
emperor returned in triumph; but the firmest and most dexterous policy
would have been insufficient to steer him through the tempest which
overwhelmed the person and government of that unhappy youth. His own
inclinations and his father’s advice attached him to his benefactors;
but Alexius hesitated between gratitude and patriotism, between the
fear of his subjects and of his allies. By his feeble and fluctuating
conduct he lost the esteem and confidence of both; and while he invited
the marquis of Montferrat to occupy the palace, he suffered the nobles
to conspire and the people to arm for the deliverance of their country.
Regardless of his painful situation, the Latin chiefs repeated their
demands, resented his delays, suspected his intentions, and exacted a
decisive answer of peace or war. The haughty summons was delivered by
three French knights and three Venetian deputies, who girded on their
swords, mounted their horses, pierced through the angry multitude, and
entered with a fearless countenance the palace and presence of the
Greek emperor. In a peremptory tone they recapitulated their services
and his engagements, and boldly declared that unless their just claims
were fully and immediately satisfied, they should no longer hold him
either as a sovereign or a friend. After this defiance, the first that
had ever wounded an imperial ear, they departed, without betraying any
symptoms of fear; but their escape from a servile palace and a furious
city astonished the ambassadors themselves, and their return to the
camp was the signal of mutual hostility.
“Among the Greeks all authority and wisdom were overborne by the
impetuous multitude, who mistook their rage for valour, their numbers
for strength, and their fanaticism for the support and inspiration
of Heaven. In the eyes of both nations Alexius was false and
contemptible: the base and spurious race of the Angeli was rejected
with clamorous disdain; and the people of Constantinople encompassed
the senate, to demand at their hands a more worthy emperor. To every
senator, conspicuous by his birth or dignity, they successively
presented the purple,--by each senator the deadly garment was repulsed;
the contest lasted three days, and we may learn from the historian
Nicetas, one of the members of the assembly, that fear and weakness
were the guardians of their loyalty. A phantom, who vanished in
oblivion, was forcibly proclaimed by the crowd; but the author of the
tumult and the leader of the war was a prince of the house of Ducas,
and his common appellation of Alexius must be discriminated by the
epithet of Mourzoufle, which in the vulgar idiom expressed the close
junction of his black and shaggy eyebrows. At once a patriot and a
courtier, the perfidious Mourzoufle, who was not destitute of cunning
and courage, opposed the Latins both in speech and action, inflamed the
passions and prejudices of the Greeks, and insinuated himself into the
confidence and favour of Alexius, who trusted him with the office of
great chamberlain, and tinged his buskins with the colours of royalty.
At the dead of night he rushed into the bedchamber with an affrighted
aspect, exclaiming that the palace was attacked by the people and
betrayed by the guards. Starting from his couch, the unsuspecting
prince threw himself into the arms of his enemy, who had contrived
his escape by a private staircase. But that staircase terminated in
a prison. Alexius was seized, stripped, and loaded with chains, and
after tasting some days the bitterness of death, he was poisoned, or
strangled, or beaten with clubs, at the command or in the presence of
the tyrant. The emperor Isaac Angelus soon followed his son to the
grave, and Mourzoufle, perhaps, might spare the superfluous crime of
hastening the extinction of impotence and blindness.
“The death of the emperors and the usurpation of Mourzoufle had changed
the nature of the quarrel. It was no longer the disagreement of allies
who overvalued their services, or neglected their obligations; the
French and Venetians forgot their complaints against Alexius, dropped
a tear on the untimely fate of their companion, and swore revenge
against the perfidious nation which had crowned his assassin. Yet
the prudent doge was still inclined to negotiate; he demanded as a
debt, a subsidy, or a fine, fifty thousand pounds of gold,--about two
millions sterling; nor would the conference have been abruptly broken,
if the zeal or policy of Mourzoufle had not refused to sacrifice the
Greek church to the safety of the state. Amidst the invectives of his
foreign and domestic enemies, we may discover that he was not unworthy
of the character which he had assumed, of the public champion. The
second siege of Constantinople was far more laborious than the first;
the treasury was replenished, and discipline was restored by a severe
inquisition into the abuses of the former reign; and Mourzoufle, an
iron mace in his hand, visiting the posts, and affecting the port and
aspect of a warrior, was an object of terror to his soldiers, at least,
and to his kinsmen. Before and after the death of Alexius, the Greeks
made two vigorous and well-conducted attempts to burn the navy in
the harbour; but the skill and courage of the Venetians repulsed the
fire-ships; and the vagrant flames wasted themselves without injury
in the sea. In a nocturnal sally, the Greek emperor was vanquished by
Henry, brother of the count of Flanders; the advantages of number and
surprise aggravated the shame of his defeat; his buckler was found on
the field of battle; and the imperial standard, a divine image of the
Virgin, was presented as a trophy and a relic to the Cistercian monks,
the disciples of St. Bernard. Near three months, without excepting the
holy season of Lent, were consumed in skirmishes and preparations,
before the Latins were ready or resolved for a general attack. The land
fortifications had been found impregnable; and the Venetian pilots
represented that on the shore of the Propontis the anchorage was
unsafe, and the ships must be driven by the current far away to the
straits of the Hellespont; a prospect not unpleasing to the reluctant
pilgrims, who sought every opportunity of breaking the army. From the
harbour, therefore, the assault was determined by the assailants,
and expected by the besieged; and the emperor had placed his scarlet
pavilions on a neighbouring height, to direct and animate the efforts
of his troops. A fearless spectator, whose mind could entertain the
idea 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 vigour, 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.
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. 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. 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 of France. In the close of the 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 labour 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.”
We have not space, nor perhaps is it our province, to detail the awful
results to Constantinople of this success of the barbarians, for such,
notwithstanding our prejudices in favour of the western warriors, were
the daring band who had, like pirates, made themselves masters of this
magnificent city. No fact in history is better proved than the state of
ignorant vandalism of the _pilgrims_, as the great historian so falsely
or ironically calls them. By whatever means they had been gathered
together, for whatever purposes they might be intended, or whatever
vile passions they gratified, Constantinople, when taken by the Franks
and the Venetians, was the most glorious emporium of objects of high
art and fine taste the world had ever seen. With the conquerors nothing
was valuable but money, and to obtain this all was sacrificed: precious
works of art were melted for the sake of the metals they were made of;
others were mutilated to facilitate division, and numberless others
were destroyed in hopes of finding treasures concealed within them. No
building was held sacred that would pay for the demolition; no object
remained in the place with which it was naturally associated, if it was
of the smallest value elsewhere. We read with horror of the destruction
of great cities and holy places by the followers of Mahomet: no
Mussulmans ever exceeded in barbarous ignorance or cruel cupidity the
band of adventurers who plundered the treasures of ages in the sack
of Constantinople. Great historians have run riot in the descriptions
of these treasures; and so interesting are they, that it is with the
utmost reluctance we turn from them without further notice. “Behold!”
cries the justly exasperated historian Nicetas, “behold what you have
done! contemplate your exploits! you who term the Greeks vile, and the
Saracens barbarous! These barbarians have never behaved towards your
compatriots in this manner. They have neither violated the women of
the Latins, nor devoured their riches, nor stained the holy sepulchre
with horror and carnage. You boasting talkers, you display the cross
upon your shoulders, and you, at all times, are ready to trample it
under foot for a little paltry gold and silver.” Tired rather than
satisfied with plunder, the conquerors proceeded to the election of an
emperor: Baldwin I. was crowned in the year 1204. This new domination
only lasted fifty-seven years, under the name of the empire of the
Latins. Under Baldwin II., brother of Robert de Courtenay, the Greeks
revolted, drove out the Franks in 1261, and gave themselves and the
throne to Michael Palæologus, whose posterity reigned up to the taking
of Constantinople by Mahomet II.