It was a heartrending spectacle to Christian Europe: another act in that pitiful and suicidal struggle between the two most powerful maritime states which in the end reduced one to impotence, and left the other too exhausted to resist the advancing tide of Turkish conquest. The Papacy, generally solicitous to compose the differences of Christian states, intervened, and an honourable but temporary peace was made.
Three years passed and a fresh storm burst in the East. Under the feeble rule of Baldwin II. the Latin Empire was tottering to its fall. Self-indulgence and corruption had destroyed the character of the Frankish knights, death, desertion and private interest had reduced their numbers. The Emperor, poor futile creature, had employed most of his reign in wandering about Europe from court to court, whining for outside help. The Crown of Thorns had already been pledged, the rich jewels and precious objects alla greca, the beautiful icons of gold and silver, known in Sanudo’s time as the jewels of St Mark, had followed, and the emperor’s son was now left at Venice, a princely pawn, for a loan advanced by the Cappellos. Meanwhile by the energy of her princes the Greek empire of Nicea was being welded into a powerful military state. In 1260, Michael Paleologus, guardian of the heir to the throne, had bid for and won the imperial office. To make his hold secure he aimed at nothing less than the restoration of the Greek Empire at Constantinople. By prudent and virile measures he had collected an army of 25,000 men near the city under the command of his favourite general, Alexios. One of the gates was treacherously opened by night. The city was entered; the Greek inhabitants, weary of alien domination, welcomed the invaders, and the imperial city that cost the apostasy of a Christian army, two sieges and the flower of Frankish chivalry, was lost in a night. Venice truly had long foreseen the danger, and had kept a great armament in the Bosphorus to watch events. Was she playing for a higher stake and hoping ultimately to pick up the falling Frankish sceptre? Chi sa? What did happen to the amazement and disgust of the Home Government was that the fleet, when the critical moment came, was away on a punitive expedition in Thrace, and returned only in time to receive the fugitive Baldwin and the Venetian governor. The crestfallen admirals gazed impotently at the reddening sky, on a multitude of their fellow-countrymen and their allies on the shore stretching forth their hands to implore protection, and heard the cries of the victims, and the exultant shouts of the conquerors in the city. On the 26th of July 1261, Michael Paleologus made a triumphant entry into Constantinople, once more the capital of the Greek Empire, and the pillage was stayed. It was a bitter humiliation to Venice. She knew the Genoese had secretly allied themselves with the new Emperor, and soon learned the price of the alliance. The island of Chios, a Venetian possession, was made over to them for a trading station. The very palace of the Venetian governor was surrendered to them, and later was razed, the more precious of its marble decorations being sent as spoil to Genoa.
Negropont, a Venetian fief, was with Michael’s approval seized and the Venetians expelled. All the results of more than fifty years’ effort and sacrifice were lost in a few hours, and the proud masters of the masters of the Latin Empire found themselves degraded to the level of Pisa in the city they perhaps regarded as their ultimate prize.
CHAPTER VI
The Duel with Genoa—The Closing of the Great Council
“The dire aspect
Of civil wounds ploughed up with neighbours’ swords.”
—Shakespeare.
BUT Venice was yet in the full vigour and buoyancy of lusty manhood, and nerved herself to regain her lost position. Alone among the Italian states she was able to evoke a fervent, whole-hearted patriotism. Rich and poor, patrician and plebeian were stirred. To the amazement of her enemies, fleet after fleet was expedited against the Genoese. Some minor engagements were fought with varying success, and at length the two powers met off Trapani in 1264 for a final battle. The Genoese were superior in numbers, and had the wind in their favour. The Venetians, having intoned the gospel for the day and called for help on Christ and Monsignor S. Marco, began the attack. A fierce struggle ensued on the interlocked vessels, which formed a vast battlefield. The carnage was terrible. At length Venetian courage and Venetian skill inflicted a crushing defeat on the Genoese, who lost the whole of their fleet.
The affection of the Greek Emperor for the Genoese was now chilled; he sued for terms, and after much debate, in which the forward party in Venice vainly pushed their policy of founding a new empire, with its centre at Constantinople, a treaty was signed in 1268, by which Venice recovered her commercial standing in the capital, though she chafed under the necessity of tolerating the presence of her rivals.
