Boniface himself wrote a letter in the same vein, again arguing for the need to conceal the bull in order to hold the army together. While this was true, it is also plain that the publication of a bull excommunicating the Venetians would give considerable ammunition to those who argued against the diversion to Constantinople.
24
As spring drew on the crusaders began to prepare to leave Zara and they refettled their ships, packed their equipment and loaded up their horses. The Venetians, however, had neither forgiven nor forgotten the Zarans’ repeated efforts to escape their overlordship. As a gesture of their strength and a dire warning to the Zarans not to forget their new oaths of fealty, they razed the city to the ground, including all its walls and towers; only the churches were spared.
Before the fleet embarked there was one final, if predictable, twist of events. Simon of Montfort and his associates, including Abbot Guy of Vaux-Cernay, declined to join their colleagues and went over to King Emico of Hungary’s lands. Simon was a senior figure and this represented a serious desertion, but it did at least remove the most vocal critics from the crusader force.
Just before the doge and Marquis Boniface departed from Zara, Prince Alexius himself arrived. The prince’s appearance was well timed - possibly deliberately - to coincide with St Mark’s Day (25 April); a moment likely to find the Venetians in particularly good spirits. The young man was given a warm reception and the Venetians provided him with galleys and crew.
25
The main crusader fleet planned to sail south and reassemble at Corfu. As the prince and the Venetians followed the bulk of the force, they passed the city of Durazzo, located on the north-western edge of the Byzantine Empire. Here, encouragingly, the citizens immediately gave their town over to Prince Alexius and swore allegiance to him. Whether this was simple prudence, particularly given the crusaders’ recent actions at Zara, or a genuine enthusiasm for the pretender is unclear. The young man must have been cheered by this development and it probably heartened the crusade’s leaders that Alexius’s people seemed to welcome his appearance - perhaps Constantinople would embrace the prince equally quickly.
Ultimately, such hopes would prove to be without foundation, although at first all seemed to be progressing to plan. Because Prince Alexius reached Zara after the majority of the French crusaders had sailed southwards, his first encounter with most of them took place on Corfu. The crusaders had already pitched their tents and pavilions and were giving their horses much-needed exercise when the news of his arrival began to spread. Knights, nobles and ordinary crusaders hurried to the port, curious to see the man in whom their leaders had vested so much and who promised to answer so many of their needs. Initial impressions were positive: the prince was greeted with great ceremony and honour and his tent was erected in the centre of the crusader army, right next to that of Boniface of Montferrat in whose charge Philip of Swabia had placed his young brother-in-law.
Because the deal struck between the nobles and the Byzantine envoys had not commanded full support, the controversy had rumbled on. The presence of Prince Alexius inevitably reopened the festering issue of advancing on Constantinople. Now yet another section of the army threatened to fracture away. Alexius would soon be left in the company of such a small force that his hope of forcing his way back into Constantinople would be extinguished.
A letter written by Hugh of Saint-Pol to various acquaintances in the West in the summer of 1203 described Alexius as making a personal plea to the crusaders that they should not be swayed from his cause. Again, the prince emphasised the unjust usurpation of his father and his offer of generous assistance. Notwithstanding the welcome given to Alexius when he first reached Corfu, it seems that the battle for the support of the rank and file needed to be won as well. Hugh wrote of the disquiet: ‘a good deal of disagreement was engendered in our army and there was an enormous uproar and grumbling. For everyone was shouting that we should make haste for Acre, and there were not more than ten who spoke in favour of Constantinople.’
26
These men again included Hugh himself, Baldwin of Flanders, Villehardouin and Bishop Conrad of Halberstadt. As Hugh argued: ‘we all clearly demonstrated to the entire army that the journey to Jerusalem was fruitless and injurious for everyone insofar as they were destitute and low on provisions, and no one amongst them could retain the services of knights and pay the men-at-arms or could provide for the employment of petraries or the introduction of other weapons of war. Well, at last, they barely gave in to us ...’
27
Alexius probably repeated the offer he had made to the leadership back at Zara and the terms were again agreed by the named individuals, although as events were about to reveal, they represented only a fraction of the entire army.
A group of senior French crusaders, including Odo of Champlitte, Jacques of Avesnes, and Peter of Amiens (Robert of Clari’s patron) - all influential men of high rank - decided that they would prefer to remain on Corfu when the Venetian fleet sailed. They planned to send messengers across to Brindisi in southern Italy, where Walter of Brienne, another important crusader, was known to be based and to ask him to dispatch shipping for them so that, presumably, they could continue on to the Holy Land. Villehardouin hinted that these men feared the likely duration, as well as the danger, of an attack on Constantinople. He allowed that while some hid their true feelings, ‘more than half the army were of the same mind’.
28
A division of this magnitude would obviously mean the end of the crusade. Boniface, Baldwin, Louis and Hugh were aghast at this development and realised that they had to take immediate and decisive action. Villehardouin reports an unattributed speech from amongst this group: ‘My lords, we’re in a pretty desperate position. If these men leave us, as so many have already done on different occasions, the army’s doomed, and we’ll never conquer anything. So why don’t we go and beg them, for God’s sake, to show some consideration for themselves and for us, and not disgrace themselves, nor deprive us of the chance of delivering the land overseas.’
29
The marshal chose to portray the issue as one of chivalric honour, combined with the need to assist the Holy Land - a plain demonstration of the necessity to keep one’s word and not lose face. The crusade leaders acted immediately and rushed off to meet the other group who were assembled in conference in a nearby valley.
What followed was one of the most dramatic incidents of the entire crusade. Boniface, Prince Alexius and the bishops and abbots sympathetic to them mounted their horses and rode away at a gallop. When they saw their comrades gathered in discussion, they halted and approached them on foot, perhaps as a sign of humility, perhaps to convey no sense of threat. On seeing the frenzied approach of the leadership, Odo, Jacques and Peter had saddled up, fearing an attack, but when the others dismounted, they followed suit. The two parties drew close and then, in what could only have been a last-ditch effort to sway the hearts and minds of their fellow-crusaders, Boniface, Baldwin, Louis and Hugh threw themselves at the feet of their friends. They cried out for help, they wept and sobbed that they would not move until the others promised to stay and fight alongside them.
30
Modern diplomacy rarely extends to such graphic and emotional displays but, as with the scene in Basel cathedral, such a lachrymose performance was not at all unfamiliar in the medieval period. This episode on Corfu was a volatile mixture of genuine feeling, utter desperation and emotional blackmail. With friends, relatives and lords lined up opposite one another, a direct appeal of this nature was almost certain to hit home. The would-be deserters duly burst into tears as well and everyone was overcome with emotion. They were not so carried away as to agree to help the prince on the spot, however, and once everyone had regained their composure they asked for some privacy to discuss the matter.
Withdrawing from the others, they debated the terms of their continued participation in the expedition to Constantinople. They undertook to stay with the army until Christmas 1203, but demanded that any time thereafter the leaders had to provide them with ships to go to Syria within two weeks of making such a request. The agreement was confirmed by oath. A sense of relief flooded through the army; for the immediate future at least, the direction of the campaign was confirmed.
Even then, the crusaders’ stay on Corfu was not trouble-free. The island was part of the Byzantine Empire and while the inhabitants of Durazzo had dutifully acknowledged Alexius’s authority, the prince’s reception from others of the islanders was much more hostile. The city of Corfu refused to open its gates and the inhabitants declared their opposition to Alexius by using catapults and petraries to compel the crusader fleet to withdraw from the harbour. It seems unlikely that there was a formal siege of the citadel, largely because the crusaders realised that it was too strong to take quickly and that their priorities lay elsewhere, but this antipathy towards the young pretender made clear that he could not count on a friendly welcome throughout the empire and that loyalty to the existing regime was not as brittle as he would have liked.
A second episode on this island revealed another of the potential flaws in Alexius’s promises to the crusaders. As the army camped outside the city of Corfu, the local archbishop invited over some of the Catholic churchmen for lunch. While the opposing armies fought using swords and missiles, their churchmen warred with words and ideas. This was no relaxing, drawn-out affair to demonstrate local hospitality, but an intense and passionate debate about important theological issues, particularly the Catholic Church’s endless claims for the primacy of Rome over the Greek Orthodox Church. With delicious irony, the Orthodox archbishop observed that ‘he knew of no basis for the Roman See’s primacy other than the fact that Roman soldiers had crucified Christ’ - a perfect response to the ambitions of the crusader churchmen.
31
Underlying this observation was the more serious point that, in this instance at least, a senior member of the Orthodox clergy was not prepared to submit to the papacy - an ominous hint (for those who chose to heed it) that Prince Alexius might struggle to deliver this particular strand of his offer to the crusaders.
As the expedition prepared to leave Corfu, the prince encouraged the crusaders to ravage the island as a signal that his wishes should be respected: a gesture to those ahead that he was determined to reclaim the throne.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘That city which reigns supreme over all others’
The Crusade Arrives at Constantinople, June 1203
T
HE ARMY SET sail for Constantinople on the eve of Pentecost, 24 May 1203. With the full fleet assembled, the crusading force must have looked impressive. Villehardouin testified that ‘so fine a sight has never been seen before’. Again, as at the moment of departure from Venice, the marshal expressed pride in the Christian army and, with a touch of hindsight, wrote: ‘It seemed, indeed, that here was a fleet that might well conquer lands, for as far as the eye could reach there was nothing to be seen but sails outspread on all that vast array of ships, so that every man’s heart was filled with joy at the sight.’
1
The galleys, transports and warships were now accompanied by many merchant vessels, which took advantage of the protection offered by the main body of ships to supply the crusaders with food and other goods. They may also have hoped to profit from the new regime in Constantinople, although the Venetians were in the prime position to secure any large-scale trading privileges.
The voyage from Corfu was fairly uneventful. The fleet sailed past the islands of Cephalonia and Zakynthos before beginning to round the Peloponnese peninsula, passing by the port of Methoni near the south-westerly tip (today Methoni boasts the splendid remains of a huge fortified town constructed largely by the Venetians later in the thirteenth century), and thence to the eastern Peloponnese at Cape Malea. As the expedition sailed onwards it encountered two ships full of crusaders returning home from Syria. These men had embarked at Marseille, presumably in the summer of 1202 when the main army was still at Venice, and had spent the autumn and winter season campaigning in the Levant. Baldwin of Flanders sent a boat over to learn of their experiences. Villehardouin characterised the men on board the ships as feeling ashamed that they were not part of the main expedition, but this is manifestly unfair. They had, after all, fought in the Holy Land and accomplished their crusade vows without compromising them in the way the main army had already done. One man, however, saw a chance for further glory and he jumped down into the count of Flanders’s boat. He called back: ‘I’m going with these people, for it certainly seems to me they’ll win some land for themselves.’
2
Not the most piously motivated thought for a crusader, but a reflection of some of the hopes and aspirations engendered by the new campaign to Constantinople. Villehardouin reported that the man was given a hearty welcome by the troops and commented in a self-satisfied way that ‘no matter how a man may have gone astray he can still come round to the right way in the end’.
3
From Cape Malea the ships turned northwards, past the Athenian peninsula to the large island of Euboea. The leaders conferred and decided to divide the fleet. Boniface and Baldwin were to sail southwards to the island of Andros, while the remainder of the ships headed north-east across the Aegean towards the coastline of Asia Minor, where they passed the ancient city of Troy before entering the Dardanelles (known then as the Hellespont). The reason for this move probably lay in the search for supplies. Andros was a wealthy island and, as the crusaders overran it, the inhabitants appealed to Prince Alexius for mercy and offered him money and goods if he would spare them. The only moment to mar the crusaders’ diversion was the death of Guy of Coucy, a powerful northern French nobleman, who was buried at sea.
4