In spite of his handicap, Dandolo was a man of incredible energy, drive and determination, dedicated to securing wealth and honour for his people. Some contemporaries such as Innocent III (as well as later historians) have criticised him for his greed and ambition, but, equally, many of the crusaders themselves spoke highly of his qualities.
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Gunther of Pairis described him thus: ‘He was, to be sure, sightless of eye, but most perceptive of mind and compensated for physical blindness with a lively intellect and, best of all, foresight. In the case of matters that were unclear, the others always took every care to seek his advice and they usually followed his lead in public affairs.’
7
Baldwin of Flanders wrote of the high esteem in which all the crusaders held him.
8
Robert of Clari regarded Dandolo as ‘a most worthy man’.
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Dandolo was elected doge in 1192 and very quickly set about emphasising both personal and civic prestige. One way he did this was to reform the city’s coinage from the standard silver penny to a new denomination that included a large silver grosso worth no less than 24 pennies. There was no standardised coinage at national (let alone international) level in the Middle Ages and each city or county would have its own particular currency, which created a huge and complex exchange market.
Aside from their financial function, coins could also signal the manner in which a city or region wanted to be perceived. In the days before mass media, coins were one of the few items to receive widespread circulation and the design could transmit an image of a particular area and its rulers far beyond its homeland. Some rulers, such as the kings of France, did not engage in this practice and minted fairly unimaginative coins adorned only with their name, title and a simple cross; others, such as the emperors of Germany, chose to depict their monarch in full regalia upon a throne. In 1194, Dandolo decided to recast the Venetian coinage and his grosso was a masterpiece of political and religious imagery, as well as a statement of his city’s financial power (see plate section).
On one side sits a beautifully executed depiction of Christ on his throne; on the other, the patron saint of Venice, St Mark, blesses the doge himself, who is actually named in person towards the edge of the coin. In other words, the
grosso
shows divine approval for the doge and emphasises the link between his authority and the saint’s protection of the city’s leader. This coin became the highest-denomination currency in Europe and was praised for its fineness and purity: it was no less than 98.5 per cent silver, far superior to anything else in the West.
Given the Venetians’ international trading position, Dandolo was not simply concerned with western European markets, but also with the Byzantine and eastern Mediterranean worlds. The Venetians had earlier made much use of coinage from the kingdom of Jerusalem and, in the latter half of the twelfth century, the Byzantine coinage as well. In recent decades, however, this had declined in purity and, coupled with the unstable relations between the Greeks and the Venetians, it was unwise for the latter to rely on the Byzantine currency. The new grosso would give the Venetians more independence and it was soon internationally recognised as the most important silver coinage in both Europe and the Mediterranean. The fact that it was Enrico Dandolo who had introduced it reveals him as a man of considerable political and economic acumen.
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The crusaders’ envoys met, therefore, a formidable and highly experienced leader, familiar in the ways of commerce and diplomacy and confident in the capabilities of his great city. Dandolo listened to the embassy’s credentials and their letters of introduction and acknowledged their high standing; he then asked them to speak concerning their mission. Villehardouin reported that the Frenchmen wanted to address the city council to lay before it their lords’ message. He hoped this could be done the following day, but Dandolo replied that he would need four days to call the assembly to order.
The crusaders duly appeared in the doge’s palace next to the church of St Mark’s on the Rivo Alto, the central island of Venice. Villehardouin described the palace as ‘a most beautiful building and very richly furnished’. There the leading men of Venice, the doge and a group of judges known as the Small Council, awaited the embassy. One of the envoys addressed his audience:
My lords, we have come to you on behalf of the great nobles of France, who have taken the cross to avenge the outrage suffered by our Lord, and, if God so wills, to recapture Jerusalem. And since our lords know that there is no people who can help them so well as yours, they entreat you, in God’s name, to take pity on the land overseas, and the outrage suffered by our Lord, and graciously do your best to supply us with a fleet of warships and transports.
The embassy delivered, therefore, a plain request for military assistance, couched in the familiar terms of a holy war to regain Christ’s patrimony. The Venetians were well aware of Pope Innocent’s call for the crusade from the visit of legate Soffredo and, through their commercial networks, would have had a clear appreciation of the political and strategic realities of the situation in the Levant.
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‘How can this be done?’ asked the doge. ‘In any way that you care to advise or propose, so long as our lords can meet your conditions and bear the cost,’ came the reply. Perhaps taken aback by the scale of the request, the doge asked for a week to deliver his response: ‘do not be surprised at so long a delay, since such an important matter demands our full consideration’. Dandolo was right to ask for a period of grace. If he agreed to the envoys’ proposition - and some sense of the projected size of the force must have been given at this stage - he would be asking his people to embark upon the most ambitious step in their commercial history. To transport the French crusaders to the Holy Land necessitated a level of commitment unprecedented in medieval commerce. The number of ships required would absorb almost the entire Venetian fleet and would entail the construction of many new ships as well. To devote the manpower of the city to one project was a breathtaking idea; in fact, it would require the suspension of practically all other commercial activity with the outside world. A modern comparison might entail a major international airline ceasing flights for a year to prepare its planes for one particular client, and then to serve that client exclusively for a further period afterwards. To us, the level of risk seems fearfully high; only the firmest assurances - and the greatest rewards - could produce such an agreement. In the case of the Fourth Crusade, the two engines of faith and commerce should be borne in mind. The Venetians’ motivation as Christians, along with their hopes of securing unparalleled long-term economic advantages in the eastern Mediterranean, were powerful lures.
As well as building the ships, the Venetians would also sail the fleet and participate in the expedition. Collectively, these responsibilities would draw in far more men than the city had ever previously committed to a crusade. It must also involve their doge, as befitted the ruler of a maritime state. In 1122-4 Doge Domenico had led a crusade to Tyre, and now Enrico Dandolo wanted to do the same. The idea that a man of his age was prepared to submit himself to the rigours of a sea voyage and a holy war showed incredible devotion and determination. As an aside, several leaders on the First Crusade had been men of relatively advanced years and there is a suggestion that their intention was to end their days in the Holy Land and to be buried in the very earth sanctified by Christ’s presence; perhaps Dandolo intended the same fate for himself.
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Given the extraordinary level of commitment required, Dandolo and his fellow-citizens must have wanted the most watertight of guarantees that their labours would be rewarded in full. If the deal collapsed, then Venice faced ruin - and Dandolo himself would have to bear the enormous responsibility for that disaster.
A week later the envoys returned to the palace and, after further discussions, Dandolo announced the terms of the Venetians’ offer to the crusaders, subject to the approval of the Grand Council and the assembly of the commons. Villehardouin provides this information:
We will build transports to carry 4,500 horses and 9,000 squires, and other ships to accommodate 4,500 knights and 20,000 foot sergeants. We will also include in our contract a nine months’ supply of rations for all men and fodder for all the horses. This is what we will do for you, and no less, on condition you pay us [four] marks per horse and two marks per man. We will, moreover, abide by the terms of the covenant we now place before you for the space of one year from the day on which we set sail from the port of Venice, to act in the service of God and of Christendom, whichever it may be. The total cost of all that we have outlined here amounts to 85,000 marks. And we will do more than this. We will provide, for the love of God, fifty additional armed galleys, on condition that so long as our association lasts we shall have one half, and you the other half, of everything that we win, either by land or sea. It now remains for you to consider if you, on your part, can accept and fulfil our conditions.
13
The treaty itself survives in full and its key terms are those related by Villehardouin, although it includes further details such as the provision of foodstuffs for the crusaders - wheat, flour, fruit, vegetables, wine and water, and, likewise, adequate provision for their horses.
14
The envoys asked for a day to consider the offer and, after discussions deep into the evening, they agreed to the terms. The following morning they formally accepted. The matter was still not closed, however, because the doge needed to persuade his fellow-citizens to endorse the plan. First he had to sway the Grand Council, a group of the 40 most senior men of the city. According to Villehardouin, Dandolo gradually argued them around to his position and convinced them that they should approve the contract. Villehardouin conveys a slight sense of reluctance on the part of some Council members and, given the scale of the proposal, it is unsurprising that a few took time to be won over. Afterwards the common people of Venice had to agree. For them, Dandolo realised that a more emotional appeal was required and he chose a powerful but calculated setting to secure the outcome he desired.
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Along with a recognition of the commercial advantages to Venice, Dandolo, as a pious medieval man, was stirred by the idea of freeing the Holy Land. This was, after all, the purpose underlying the entire crusading movement and - with Villehardouin and his companions as visible representatives of that hope, and as men sworn to fight and, if necessary, to die for God - it was important to exploit the basic religiosity of the Venetian people. Dandolo invited 10,000 of the common people to hear a mass of the Holy Spirit in the church of St Mark’s, and to pray for divine guidance concerning the envoys’ request for help.
The church of St Mark’s began life as the private chapel of the doge, whose palace was (and still is) located next door.
16
The first church was built to house the relics of St Mark, stolen from Alexandria in 828. Fires and subsidence necessitated several reconstruction programmes. The underlying shape of St Mark’s is that of a Greek cross (the four arms are of the same length) and the replacement of the wooden roof with five new brick domes in the latter half of the eleventh century formed the basis of the building we see today. These domes remain in place, although from the outside they are now hidden under the later lead-covered onion lanterns that dominate the present skyline. In other words, to picture the church in Villehardouin’s day we must imagine a much lower, flatter outline. To support these domes huge, thick walls were added, along with various apses and a porch. The shape and decoration of the church demonstrate the cultural affinity between Venice and Byzantium, because St Mark’s was deliberately modelled on the church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople (destroyed in 1453). The massive central piers are pierced by archways to give a greater sense of light, and the central dome with its ring of small windows seems almost to hover over the mighty vaults. The tomb of St Mark is in a crypt under the high altar; it lies, therefore, at the end of a long arena suitable for the great processional ceremonies of the church and the doge.
Some of the surviving mosaics, sculpture, flooring and marble date from after the sack of Constantinople, but in the spring of 1201 the Frenchmen still went into a sumptuously decorated church. Several mosaics were already in place and others extant now, such as the main Christ figure over the east apse, are copies of twelfth-century work. Below this great image of Christ are depictions of four patron saints, clad in beautiful blue and ivory robes and bearing gifts; these date from around 1106.
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On entering the church, the visitor is faced by an array of brown, gold, green and blue mosaics. The eye is caught by a bewildering variety of divine beings and sacred events and there is an impressive opulence and intensity in the overall decorative effect. The last of the three arches of the short nave merges into the central supporting pillars. These stretch above to the three central domes, which then step away down the church to the main focus of the building, the east apse containing the figure of Christ overlooking the tomb of St Mark.
Villehardouin and his colleagues walked into the church. All those inside knew of the envoys’ presence in the city and the nature, if not the details, of their business. With the crusader cross emblazoned on their shoulders, the Frenchmen strode down the aisle, watched intently by those at ground level and by the people staring down from the galleries above the porch and along the nave. It must have been an intimidating moment. The envoys had settled on the deal that would enable their crusade to take place; now they had to clear the last obstacle that might otherwise stop them from realising their purpose. Opposition to the scheme would certainly end all possibility of launching the crusade.