All preliminaries being settled, and Raniero Dandolo made Vice-Doge during his father's absence, the embarkation of the army was begun. This furnished one of those spectacles so frequent in mediæval Venice, and was watched for days by all the city.
As yet no restraint had been put upon the luxury of dress and display of wealth which the Venetians loved; and the guilds of the city, each in its appropriate costume, presented a brilliant and picturesque assembly whenever the pageants of which they were so fond brought them together in large numbers. And where do the conditions afford so beautiful a setting to artistic display as in this wonderful city of the sea? Where else would silks and velvets, precious stones, and gold and silver work seem so suitable as in this "Queen of the Adriatic," rising from its many-tinted waters sparkling beneath a southern sun?
The noble war-horses of the Frenchmen, led unwillingly upon the vessels, were an astonishing spectacle to the Venetians, and would be so still, since recently a single horse at San Lazaro was mentioned as one of the sights of Venice by our landlord!
To the French, German, and Flemish Crusaders the Venetian war-ships, huge in size, with deck upon deck and above all great towers, were equally marvellous. So heavy were they that in addition to sails each one required fifty oars with four men to each oar. The finest of these, called "The World," was venerated by the Venetians; for not only was it the largest ship afloat, but it had proved invincible in former battles.
As the four hundred and eighty vessels were filled, one by one they proceeded down the Grand Canal and anchored off the Castle, until the galleys, transports, and long boats extended for miles on the Venetian waters. The excitement can scarcely be described. "Bound for Palestine! To deliver Jerusalem! To exterminate the Infidels!" These cries aroused the people to the greatest enthusiasm, and helped the Venetian women, though not without tears and anguish, to bid God-speed to those they held most dear.
A part of the vessels were sent off in advance; and a week later, on a brilliant October day, the remaining fleet departed. From the masts fluttered the standards of Venice and of all the chief countries of Europe, as well as the rich gonfalons and banners of the nobles; while above every mast arose the sacred cross. The ships were filled to their summits with soldiers, their armor glistening in the sun; while the sides of the principal vessels were hung with the emblazoned shields of the nobles they carried.
Early in the morning the Doge and the barons heard Mass in San Marco, and from there, in grand procession, marched to the quay to the music of silver trumpets and cymbals. Barges were waiting to convey them to the ships; and as they embarked, hundreds of barchette and other small boats filled with ladies and children surrounded them, and followed to witness the departure of the fleet, and wave their final farewells to husbands and fathers, sons and lovers.
Each noble had his own ship, and an attendant transport for horses. Dandolo's galley was vermilion-colored, as if he were an imperial potentate, and his pavilion when on shore was of the same royal hue. The signal for sailing was given by a hundred trumpets, and in the castles at the crosstrees of the ships the priests and monks chanted the "Veni Creator Spiritus."
As ship after ship left its moorings, as sail after sail swelled before the wind, and the rowers bent to their oars, it seemed as if the whole sea were covered; and the hearts of those who were left behind were comforted by the feeling that no power could withstand so goodly and brave a host. The fleet was watched with straining eyes until but a few white specks could be discerned in the dim distance, and the people returned to their beloved Venezia, seeming now like a vast house of mourning upon which the silence of the tomb had fallen.
In the Ducal Palace the Marquis of Monteferrato, the commander-in-chief of the army, lay ill, or made a pretence of being so. He was attended by the Baron de Montmorency and other nobles, all strict churchmen, of whom it was more than suspected that their delay was caused by fear of the disapproval of the Pope. Two months passed before they joined the Crusade; and as they moved about the city and sailed on the lagoons, they seemed like the last link between Venice and all that had gone from her.