The Great Betrayal (24 page)

Now that the plunder was divided, and all parties were satisfied financially, there remained the pressing and important problem of electing a new emperor and of dividing those more permanent spoils—the actual land heritage of Byzantium. There were three obvious candidates for emperor, Boniface Marquis of Montferrat, Baldwin Earl of Flanders and, inevitably, Enrico Dandolo. The latter had no wish to take on the responsibilities of emperor. He was Doge of Venice already, and he saw quite clearly what kind of cat’s cradle of politics and policy would be handed over to the first non-Greek, non-Orthodox emperor of the city. In any case, Dandolo was over eighty years old. If he had distinguished himself by controlling the puppets of the Fourth Crusade, he had no intention of ending his life as the puppet of others. Quite apart from his age, he may well have doubted whether he would receive much support. The Crusaders—now that the city was theirs—could allow their natural resentment against the Venetians to come to the surface. The Venetians, on the other hand, would hardly welcome one of their own citizens as the ruler of Constantinople, with the possibility that he might found a dynasty in the East. Venice was a republic, the Venetians had curbed the power of the Doges in the early eleventh century and they had an inborn distaste for the trappings of monarchy.

Dandolo was wise and did not put himself forward as a candidate. He knew that he could wield far more power behind the scenes, and his own interests coincided with those of his city. It was the trade of Constantinople which interested Venice, and—to secure that trade—certain islands and ports in the Ionian, the Aegean and the Levant. It was, above all, the islands of the Aegean which had once proved the stepping-stones between Europe and Asia for Athens—and subsequently for the Byzantine Empire—that were of interest to Venice. Here lay the harbours and the seamen who could further Venetian trade. It was of little consequence who (technically) owned large areas of impoverished Greece and Turk-threatened Asia.

There were two main candidates, then, for the most ancient throne in Europe—Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, and Baldwin, Earl of Flanders. No one else among the assembled Crusaders approached them either in rank, or in general distinction. The whole army was summoned to a conference and at this first meeting, “the main source of disagreement was whether Count Baldwin or the Marquis should be chosen…”.

Aware that the choice of one as emperor might well cause the other to withdraw all his men from the army, and possibly even lead to a civil war, the council of the barons together with the Doge and the leading Venetians came to the conclusion that some worthwhile ‘consolation prize’ must be given to the loser.

“Whichever of them is elected,” they said, “let him do everything he can to keep the other satisfied. A good way, for instance, for the new Emperor to gain the other’s allegiance would be to grant him all the land that lies over the strait in Asia Minor, as well as the island of Greece [Crete].” Both contestants for the title agreed to this division of the Empire, and it was arranged that the Latins and Venetians should each choose six electors. These would meet in due course in May and would then decide who was to be the Emperor of Constantinople.

During the weeks that followed, the lobbying for candidates reached a fever-pitch of intrigue and counter-intrigue. There were still some who wished to see the Doge made emperor, but he had made his own views clear on this subject. There can be little doubt, though, that he was the presiding spirit in directing the course of the forthcoming election. At first glance it might have seemed that the weight of the Doge’s authority would be cast in favour of Boniface. The latter was an Italian, he had been appointed the official leader of the Fourth Crusade, and he had systematically intrigued with Dandolo to divert the expedition to Constantinople. Their mutual aims had now been achieved, and together they had reached a triumphant conclusion—the sack of the richest city in Europe and the dismemberment of the Byzantine Empire.

Boniface had other assets to recommend him: he was recognised as a valiant and able soldier; he had the appearance and authority suitable for his position (his nickname was ‘The Giant’); and the citizens of Constantinople were prepared to acclaim him as their new ruler. Furthermore, as if to ensure his claim to the throne, he had paid his court to Margaret, the widow of the Emperor Isaac and the sister of the King of Hungary. Their marriage was arranged to take place in the first week of May, just prior to the election.

Baldwin of Flanders, on the other hand, seemed to have much less to recommend him. True, he was the cousin of the King of France and descended from the great Charlemagne—a fact which appealed to the Latin Crusaders—but he did not have the energy and fire which distinguished Boniface. He was a genial man, however, and popular with the troops. Once the diversion of the Crusade had been accomplished, he had sided wholeheartedly with Dandolo and Boniface. But the fact remained that he had not been privy to the original plot, and this might well make him more acceptable in the Pope’s eyes as the first new Latin emperor.

If the Doge now threw the weight of his authority behind Baldwin rather than Boniface, it can only have been that he envisaged Boniface as likely to be too powerful and too ambitious an emperor. Having destroyed any Byzantine threat to his own Republic, the Doge could have had no wish to see the ancient Empire reconstituted in a far more efficient form than before. Besides, it would not suit Venice to have a strong alliance between an Italian power and Constantinople—to have, in fact, an emperor in Constantinople whose sway extended as far as the Marquisate of Montferrat to the north of Venice. Count Baldwin, on the other hand, was quite a different proposition. His lands were far away in Flanders, and the fact that the territories which bore allegiance to him would be so widely separated would ensure that no power-combine could be erected that would in any way conflict with Venetian interests. Furthermore, the fact that Baldwin tended to be easy-going and tolerant meant that his ambitions would probably be assuaged, while Boniface, on the other hand, might not be so easily satisfied.

“Finally the day of the last conference arrived and everyone assembled. The twelve electors were chosen, six Latins and six Venetians, and all of them swore on the Holy Gospels to be conscientious and true in their work, and to elect the man who would best fulfil his duties to the state and the Empire…” It was arranged that the election itself should take place on May 9th in the Church of Our Lady inside Boucoleon Palace.

The day came, the electors met, and almost at once dissension broke out. Far from there being a simple argument between the merits or demerits of Boniface and Baldwin, the names of other alternative emperors were put up for consideration. Two of the Latin electors, the Bishops of Soissons and of Troyes, voted for Dandolo, although there is no indication that his name had ever been submitted. The bishops felt no doubt that, as he had proved himself the undisputed leader and organiser of the expedition, so it was only fitting that he should take charge of the conquered city and its territories. Others proposed that Philip of Swabia, whose name had never previously been mentioned in this connection, should be made emperor. They pointed out that, since he was likely to become Emperor of the West, it was only right that the two political divisions of Christendom should now be united under one head—just as in the spiritual sphere the Pope had now become sole ruler of the Christian Church. The remainder of the electors seem to have remained equally divided between Boniface and Baldwin.

The deliberations reached such an impasse that there seemed only one recourse: to summon an outside authority to help the electors make up their minds. Since Boniface and Baldwin were committed parties, it was inevitable that they should turn to the Doge. Disclaiming at once any desire to have the honour for himself—thus silencing the two Bishops who had proposed him—the Doge ignored also the supporters of Philip of Swabia. The very idea of Philip becoming emperor of both East and West must have appalled Dandolo. Nothing could have been further from the designs of Venice than that a German Emperor should possibly consolidate a vast empire stretching from the Rhine to the Bosphorus. There were only two possible candidates, the Doge pointed out, and he proceeded to throw his influence solidly in favour of Baldwin.
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“Meanwhile the barons and the knights waited in the great palace outside the church…” That the election was not rigged, but genuinely debated, must be judged from the fact that the twelve electors were inside the church for many hours, and it was not until close on midnight that they all emerged. The Bishop of Soissons, who had been chosen as their spokesman, led the electors in front of the Doge and the other barons, who were seated in one of the great reception rooms of Boucoleon.

“My Lords,” said the bishop, “we have by God’s Grace agreed on the choice of an Emperor. All of you have likewise agreed to abide by our decision and, if anyone should dare challenge it, to rally to the support of the man whom we have elected. We name him now at midnight, at that very hour when Our Lord was born, and we proclaim as Emperor of Constantinople, Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault.”

It was the hour of triumph for Dandolo and for Venice. Constantinople, her greatest rival, had been sacked—and many of the city’s finest treasures would go to glorify the Republic. An emperor had been elected who was unlikely to prove any threat to Venetian aspirations in the Aegean and the Levant. The Crusaders had been successfully and for ever diverted from any enterprise against Egypt—with the result that the Venetians had fulfilled any obligations to Egypt’s Sultan, and might now expect to benefit by the trading concessions he had promised them in Alexandria.

All that now remained was to divide and dismember the eastern empire, taking for Venice whatever islands and ports might ensure her lifeline to Asia and the Orient. As for these Crusaders, it was more than likely that whatever territories they seized they would be unable to rule them efficiently, let alone in unison with one another. “Divide and rule,” the traditional policy of ancient Rome, was now to be applied by Venice to Rome’s successor, the city of Constantine.

17

DISMEMBERMENT OF AN EMPIRE

On May 16th, 1204, seven days after the electors had given their decision, Count Baldwin was crowned Emperor in Santa Sophia. He had been borne aloft on a shield in the ancient manner, then conducted in a formal procession to the Cathedral, and was now to be crowned in a confused mixture of the rites of the Orthodox and Latin churches. Since the Greek patriarch had left the city and no one had yet been appointed to take his place, the papal legate was chosen to act in his stead. Cardinal Peter of Capua had been an uneasy but apparently voiceless spectator of the Crusaders’ actions ever since the attack on Zara. He may now have felt that he was justifying his presence with the fleet and the army. By crowning the new Latin Emperor of Constantinople, he at least established the Pope’s authority over both the Emperor, the Cathedral and the whole eastern church.

As for the Pope himself, when the news finally reached him of the manner in which Constantinople had been taken, his indignation could not be contained. Everything that he had feared and mistrusted about the enterprise (ever since it had fallen into the hands of the Venetians) had come to pass. He saw his dream of a great Crusade against the heathen disappear like smoke in the Byzantine wind. He realised that nothing would ever re-establish the army as a composite unit, and that nothing would now prevent the barons from carving up the remnants of the Byzantine Empire for themselves. Even the fact that, at long last, the schism between eastern and western Churches was apparently healed could not assuage his anger and his despair. As he wrote in one of many letters which he despatched to Baldwin in Constantinople after its capture:

“You took upon yourselves the duty of delivering the Holy Land from the Infidel. You were forbidden under pain of excommunication from attacking any Christian lands, unless they refused you passage or would not help you (and even then, you were to do nothing contrary to the wishes of my legate). You had no claims or pretensions to the lands of Greece. You were under the most solemn vows of Our Lord—and yet you have totally disregarded these vows. It was not against the Infidel but against Christians that you drew your sword. It was not Jerusalem that you captured but Constantinople. It was not heavenly riches upon which your minds were set, but earthly ones. But far and above all of this, nothing has been sacred to you—neither age nor sex. In the eyes of the whole world you have abandoned yourselves to debauchery, adultery and prostitution. You have not only violated married women and widows, but even women and virgins whose lives were dedicated to Christ. You have looted not only the treasures of the Emperor and of citizens both rich and poor, but have despoiled the very sanctuaries of God’s Church. You have broken into holy places, stolen the sacred objects of altars—even including crucifixes—and you have pillaged innumerable images and relics of the Saints. It is hardly surprising that the Greek Church, beaten down though it is, rejects any obedience to the Apostolic See. It is hardly surprising that it sees in all Latins no more than treachery and the works of the Devil, and regards all of them as curs.”

Within a few months of the Latin seizure of the city, Innocent III was to learn from Catholic priests in the army of occupation that the Orthodox clergy had resolutely turned their backs upon any union of the Churches. None of the Orthodox had ever at any time contemplated such a union, but the manner in which Constantinople had been raped had reinforced their hatred of Rome.