Pronunciations for unfamiliar words
are given in the [Index]
THE BYZANTINES
A CRUSADE THAT WENT ASTRAY
More than 750 years ago—the exact date was May 24, 1203—a mighty and crowded armada sailed away from the beautiful island of Corfu just off the northwest corner of Greece.
It headed southward toward a brilliant blue sea.
The weather was balmy. The myrtle was in bloom. The leaves on the twisted gray olive trees flashed silver. The sky was fine and clear. The wind was gentle and favorable. Indeed, it barely ruffled the water. But it filled hundreds and hundreds of sails of every possible color. Red sails. Golden sails. Lavender sails. Green sails. Orange sails. And sails of a wonderful bright yellow. Even Geoffrey of Villehardouin, a bold French baron and famous historian who was one of the passengers, could not say how many they were. But he did know that they took his breath away.
“I, Geoffrey,” he scratched out slowly, “to my knowledge have not ever lied by one word, and I bear witness that never was yet seen so fair a sight. As far as the eye could reach, there was no space without sails, and ships, and vessels.”
Certainly there were enough ships to cover miles of ocean. Flat, broad-beamed palanders, built especially to carry troops and horses—the 4,500 knights with their fiery steeds, the 9,000 esquires, and the 20,000 foot soldiers who made up the expedition.
Swift galleys to protect the mighty convoy. These galleys had oars as well as sails, and they lashed the waters to foam as they hurried about their tasks. There were even some fat, slow merchant vessels. Just as it is today, business was business in the Middle Ages, even when you went to war.