‘You are allied,’ he said, ‘with the bravest of living men for the greatest purpose which man can embrace; and I am old and weak and my body has sore need of rest, yet I clearly see that no one can lead you in this enterprise with the authority which is mine as chief of the Republic. I pray you give me leave to take the cross that I may lead you and watch over you, and let my son take my place here to guard the territories of Venice while I go forth to live or die with you and with these pilgrims.’

A great cry went up from all the people, ‘So be it for God’s sake! Take the cross also and come with us.’ And therewith a great wave of enthusiasm moved the whole host—strangers, pilgrims, and Venetians alike; and one who stood in the crowd has recorded that there was something in the bearing of the ancient Doge, in his prayer for permission to take the cross, in the sacrifice he offered of the last strength that was in him, that brought tears to the eyes of them that saw and heard.

Then Enrico Dandolo, laying one hand upon the shoulder of him who went before to lead him, came down and knelt before the high altar; and he asked that the cross should be sewn upon his great cotton bonnet that all might see it, and a great number of Venetians followed his example and took the cross also.

The fleet sailed out of the harbour of Venice on the eighth day of October 1202, a fleet of three hundred sail, the noblest and best equipped that had yet been seen. Three huge vessels led the line—the Aquila, the Paradiso, and the Pellegrina. Above the broad sails the standard of the Republic floated from the masthead, while the flags of other nations that were sending crusaders with the fleet were displayed below it and at the yard-arms. The three hundred vessels were manned by a force of forty thousand men in the bloom of their youth and strength.

The crusade that followed has been too often described for me to describe it. I shall merely endeavour to present a short statement of the main facts and their consequences.

Rom. ii. 155.

Pope Innocent III. had strictly enjoined upon the crusaders to stop nowhere by the way, but to proceed directly to the Holy Land without turning aside to pursue any purpose or undertaking foreign to the end for which they had bound themselves together by solemn oath. The Pope’s command was peremptory; it is hardly necessary to say that it was also prudent, since the first three crusades had shown clearly to what extent the interests of commerce and the desire for gain could thwart the true purpose of the Holy War. Nevertheless the Venetians considered that the Pope’s words could be interpreted with a breadth convenient to their own ends, and in spite of the resistance of the French knights, who wished to obey the Pope to the letter, the fleet anchored off the coast of Dalmatia in order to retake the strongholds which had fallen under the domination of Hungary. Enrico Dandolo’s argument in favour of this was by no means illogical, whatever his real motives may have been, for he pointed out that it was absolutely necessary to take possession of all harbours on the way to the East from which pirates might sail out to harass the fleet.

1202. Zara attacked by the crusaders, A. Vicentino; Hall of the Great Council.

No sooner had he taken the city of Zara, however, than the French knights were perplexed and terrified by a message from the Pope, who threatened to excommunicate all who had fought in this incidental war unless they made honourable amends. Ambassadors were at once sent to Rome to explain Dandolo’s specious argument to the Pope and humbly to implore the latter’s pardon. Innocent granted his absolution readily enough, on condition that the crusaders should not turn aside again on their way to the Holy Land.

Rom. ii. 160-1.