The age of the crusades

by James M. Ludlow

The deputies returned to the camp. Young Alexius entered the city, riding, with a retinue of knights, between Dandolo and Baldwin of Flanders, and followed by the Latin clergy; they were met at the gates by the various ranks of Greek ecclesiastics, arrayed in splendid vestments. The churches throughout the city resounded with thanksgiving and the streets with festivity, while within the palace Isaac, having endured a dungeon for eight years, embraced his son whom he could not see.

August 1st Alexius was crowned coemperor in St. Sophia; he immediately cancelled a portion of his indebtedness to his allies, and wrote to the Pope, avowing his purpose to recognize Rome as the ecclesiastical head of the Greek empire. The Pope, knowing the vicissitude of affairs and distrusting the volatile disposition of the youth, replied, urging him to speedily practicalize his good intention. At the same time the Holy Father addressed the crusaders, declaring that, “unless the emperor made haste to do what he had promised, it would appear that neither his protestations nor their intentions were sincere.”

The payment Alexius was able to make to those who had sold themselves to his service was not sufficient to satisfy their ambitious greed; it barely sufficed to pay back to each soldier the money he had been compelled to cash down to the Venetians for his passage, and which had left the Latin army bankrupt in a foreign land. But the Greek treasury was empty and could not meet the expenses of the new government, nor even provide for the personal protection of the emperors against their domestic foes.

If the adherents of the fugitive Alexius III. were not to be feared, there were new aspirants to the throne, which had come to be recognized as the legitimate spoil of usurpers; besides, the emperor’s pledge to recognize the Pope’s supremacy had kindled fury in the breasts of the Greek devotees. The monk was accustomed in those days to finger his dagger as well as his beads. The Waring guard could alone be trusted, but their loyalty would lapse at the first passing of a pay-day. Some men are stimulated by necessity—hardship evokes their genius; but the Latins knew that Alexius was not of this sort. Scarcely out of boyhood, he was already displaying the vices and weaknesses for which his race was notorious. He needed a guardian—a Dandolo or Boniface, or both.

It was therefore evident that if the new régime were not to be an immediate failure, carrying down with it the honor of the Latins, the latter must continue at Constantinople in spite of the fact that the agreement between the Venetians and the army expired at Michaelmas. They were forced to accept Alexius’s proposition that they should remain with him for another year. Thus circumstances conspired to favor Dandolo in his compact with Malek-Ahdel and to check the impatience of the crusaders for a march upon Syria or Egypt.

The reign of Alexius and Isaac was inaugurated by a terrible calamity. According to long custom, the Arab and other Moslem traders had been allowed to occupy a section of the city with their bazaars and mosque. The crusading zeal, baffled of finding its natural vent in Palestine, sought a slight compensation in looting this smaller nest of Infidels. During the fighting that ensued fire was started in several places. Under a strong north wind it swept in a wide swath across the city; then, the breeze shifting, the conflagration raged in another direction. For eight days there was a continual crash of falling houses, palaces, and churches, thousands of the homeless population fleeing through smoke and cinders from the pursuing flames. Many perished, and at the cessation of the ravages multitudes were left in utter destitution. The blackened ruins covered a section half a league in width and two leagues in length, extending from the Golden Horn to the Marmora.

The fury of the elements was followed by as destructive a fury of human passions. The Greek rose to exterminate the Latin resident population. All were driven out. Fifteen thousand of these sojourners escaped across the harbor to Galata, that their lives might be saved in the camp of the crusaders.

This disaster rendered hopeless any further payment of the debt pledged by Alexius. The crusaders took advantage of the situation to inaugurate a plan to capture the city for themselves, to depose both emperors, and seat upon the throne one of their own number. It was first necessary to provoke a formal breach with Alexius and Isaac. A deputation was therefore sent them to demand instant payment or war. The Greek populace resented this insult to their rulers, whose office they worshipped even if they had contempt for their pusillanimity. They retaliated upon the Westerners by attempting to burn the Venetian fleet with fire-boats floated among the ships, and trying to destroy the crusaders’ camp by a sudden cavalry attack.

A more serious menace was in the popular meetings held daily in St. Sophia to denounce the emperors and to demand their displacement to make way for some stronger hand. The leader of this movement was Alexius Ducas, called Mourtzouphlos because of his meeting eyebrows. The populace, with whom this man was unsavory, offered the crown to Nicholas Kanabos. Alexius was kept a virtual prisoner in the Blachern, defended by his Warings. Mourtzouphlos came to the palace, and, persuading Alexius that a mob was about to attack him, pretended to conduct him to a place of safety. Getting him thus to his own tent, Mourtzouphlos put the young man in irons, shod himself with the vermilion buskins, and strode out, proclaiming that he was emperor.

With vast energy the usurper set about refortifying the city. He impressed Dandolo and Boniface with the fact that they had now to deal with a man not unlike themselves in ability and daring. What they were to do must be done quickly. They made to Mourtzouphlos the proposition, “Give us Alexius, and we will depart and allow you to remain emperor.” With this prince in their hands they could still scheme. The reply came, “Alexius is dead.” He had been found lifeless in his chamber (February 1, 1204). Isaac soon followed his son with as mysterious a taking off. Dandolo then proposed a personal interview with the new monarch. The meeting was held a half-mile beyond the palace. Treacherously a squad of Latin horsemen raided the place of conference, capturing some of the imperial body-guard, but Mourtzouphlos escaped.