‘The Fourth Crusade and the Sacking of Constantinople’

But there is an even bitterer taste left by the Fourth Crusade -- the crusade that definitely went wrong. The crusade where the motives of political power and trade dominance were crystal clear. The crusade where Christendom turned on itself. The crusade which drove an irreconcilable wedge between the Orthodox and Catholic churches. The crusade that destroyed the most magnificent city in the world and the biggest city in Christendom.

When, as a result of the butchery of the Fourth Crusade, Baldwin of Flanders was crowned in Constantinople, it created a seismic change in the accepted medieval world order. Sweeping aside eight centuries of Byzantine emperors, a northern European sat on the throne of Aya Sofya.

Perhaps the real tragedy of the Fourth Crusade was that this Latin Empire was to be so short lived. Six decades later, it was to fall once more to Byzantium. So much bloodshed, so much looting, so much hatred, for just 60 years of supremacy. The fallout from the Fourth Crusade continues in enmity to this day. In 2001 Pope John Paul II issued an apology to the Greek Orthodox Church for the slaughter.

The crusaders were first recruited by Pope Innocent in March 1199 to capture Jerusalem. A knights' tournament in Ecry (part of the Champagne region of France) in November 1199 recruited many. Abbot Martin preached a crusade sermon in Basel Cathedral in May 1200, and the numbers grew as he appealed to the individual's desire for atonement from their sins. “Hasten to help Christ!” he cried, offering them the chance to suffer and face death in this life to avoid purgatory in the next -- a heavenly reward to the faithful. It seems that churchmen through the centuries have used such tactics to recruit for war: The scenes in the film “Not Without My Daughter,” where the clergy give out plastic keys to paradise as they recruit for the Iran-Iraq war, are memorable.

Where did this idealism go wrong? They needed Venetians to have ships to sail to the Levent. They planned to land in Egypt, believing, as many Muslim defenders did, that the key to winning Jerusalem lay in Cairo. So the crusaders entered into a huge contract with the Venetians of honor, financial outlay and high risk. In return for almost a full year of boat-building and supply-providing, the Venetians were to be paid in four installments up to April 1102, and the fleet would be ready to sail later that year. The price of the contract was twice the annual income of the king of France!

However, many of the recruited knights eventually went by another route, meaning that the crusaders were short on the amount they needed to pay the Venetians. The leadership dug into their own pockets to narrow the shortfall, giving anything of value: gold, silver and items such as vessels and cutlery. But still it was not enough.

The Venetian leader, the Doge, saw his opportunity to exploit the situation and suggested that the remainder of the debt could be paid by attacking Zara on the coast of Dalmatia. But this city was under the control of the Hungarian king -- himself a Christian and a former crusader. Keeping their destination hidden from the masses, the leadership gave the order to sail. As the magnificent fleet set out from port, “it seemed as if the sea were all a tremble and all on fire with the ships.”

In direct conflict of the pope's instructions, they besieged the city, the Zarans surrendered and the victors divided the spoil. The crusaders spared the lives of all in the city, but looted it.

The cruel realities of the Fourth Crusade began to sink in, and they contrasted with the high hopes with which the expedition had started. Deeply in debt, the churchmen were boxed into corners by the political members of the leadership, powerless to follow their own wishes. The pope wrote to them, “Behold, your gold has turned into base metal.”

Having paid off most of their debt, they had no finances left to cover the costs of supplies for the rest of the crusade. Another cynical and manipulative proposition was put to them. Two major additions to their ranks that had been made while they had been waiting in Venice made this proposal and its acceptance possible. Firstly, the author of the proposal, Alexius -- the nephew of deposed Byzantine Emperor Alexius III -- had joined their number. Secondly, the godly Thibaut of France died, and was replaced in leadership by Boniface of France, whose brother Rainier had been murdered in Constantinople.

So when Alexius proposed he would pay off their debts and go with them to Egypt with a force of 10,000 men if they restored his inheritance to him, the leadership, which was otherwise facing the prospect of disbanding the crusade, was willing to grasp at his lifeline. Many of the knights and rank-and-file participants wished to press on to Acre, and the critics gradually deserted. The core of the Fourth Crusade set sail for Constantinople in May 1203.

With a population of some 400,000, it dwarfed every other city in the world (Paris and Venice had only 60,000). “The Crusaders saw before them a true marvel.” The size of their task seemed impossible -- it had never fallen to a conqueror.

But these were determined, violent and desperate men. After early victories and a siege, the emperor fled and the crusaders stormed in. Greed took over, and Constantinople was reduced to a wilderness as the invaders piled up gold and silver in their storehouses before taking their booty back to northern Europe. Relics and holy treasures were not spared, either.

When this money dried up, the crusaders turned on the local population with open violence. “Break in! Rout menaces! Crush cowards! Press on more bravely!” was the cry as there was an explosion of plunder, sacking, pillaging, greed and violence that lasted a month.

In the words of a clergyman who witnessed the horror: “Madmen raging against the sacred -- murderous men -- the forerunners of the anti-Christ.” Crusaders who set out longing for fame and atonement are judged by history as achieving only terror and horror.