Athwart the Golden Horn, from Constantinople to Galata, the protective chain was lifted and stretched taut, iron links so huge they measured in cubits. Secure beyond this chain fat merchant vessels lay at anchor, stuffed with goods. Shops and houses of traders, Jews, Venetians, Genoese, could be seen on the slopes of Galata. Many in that quarter felt less allegiance to Byzantium than to Europe. Overall, from Galata across the Golden Horn where palaces and church domes gleamed through smoky haze, the immensity of Constantinople humbled these Franks, so radiant, so majestic, so invulnerable did it seem. As for the Greeks, they appeared on rooftops to stare with dumb astonishment at this fleet. And that night a thousand lamps illuminated the vast dome of Sancta Sophia while torches were seen moving along the battlements.
Next day brought an emissary, Nicholas Roux, a Lombard chosen because he spoke the language, who asked why this fleet arrived to menace Constantinople. The citizens and Emperor Alexius himself are Christian, said he. And you, are you not en route to the Holy Land? Why not go on your way? The emperor will give you what supplies you need. He is reluctant to harm you, although he is capable of this if you do not proceed to Jerusalem.
Lord Conan de Béthune responded. We have with us the nephew of a traitor who has usurped the throne. It is our intent to restore him to his legacy. We intend to see this youth crowned emperor.
On the following day ten galleys rowed along the walls under a flag of truce. Aboard was the young prince, Doge Enrico Dandolo, and many famous knights. A herald cried to the people looking down that this was their natural emperor whom they should acknowledge, else Constantinople would be pounded to ruin. But they shouted back defiantly that they did not know him.
Therefore the pilgrims disembarked at Galata. This happened on the fifth day of July in our year of grace 1203. Greeks sallying from the tower to repulse the Frankish host quickly lost heart and tried to escape. Some dashed into the water and drew themselves hand over hand along the chain as if they might travel like apes to Constantinople. Others ran up and down the shore, running faster than arrows launched at them. So the pilgrims gained admittance to the tower that housed a great windlass controlling the chain. By certain accounts they unshackled the chain, which sank to the harbor bed. Others speak of how the powerful ship Aquila drove its iron prow against the chain and snapped it. Galleys that had waited outside, backing and filling with beaks raised to attack, all at once came gliding forward, propelled by slaves bent to the loom of oars. And so next morning at sunrise here was the Golden Horn thick as a forest with Venetian ships.
Day after day the knighthood of Christ prepared. Cattle hides were lashed across forward decks and over the prows to fend off burning oil. Petraries, mangonels, and other machines assembled. Greeks now and again rushed out to molest the Frankish encampment. Once with Burgundians on guard here came the Greeks. They were repelled, forced backward to the gate, but on this occasion Guillaume de Champlitte, a gallant knight, got his arm smashed by a stone from the ramparts. Other sorties followed. Many Jerusalemfarers went to sleep in Christ.
Anon the living host stood ready. For each Latin outside the wall, according to Geoffrey de Villehardouin, two hundred Greeks stood inside. When have so few besieged so many?
It was agreed that Venetian ships would attack the walls overlooking the harbor while Frankish knights and sergeants would strike Blachernae palace. Long ago this palace stood outside the walls and here the emperors chose to live because it gave access to hunting grounds, away from city noise and dirt and smoke. Chronicles do not say just when the walls of Constantinople extended to Blachernae, but very long ago. Here lodged goldsmiths, weavers, craftsmen who carved ivory and wood, those who worked in mosaic or illuminated manuscript. And the Greeks thought Blachernae could not be taken since here was preserved the uncorrupted robe of Our Lady, which was seized at Capernaum. Princess Anna Comnena relates how each Friday worshippers rejoiced in the presence and sweet aroma of this hallowed garment.
On the seventeenth of July came word that Doge Enrico and his Venetians would advance. They glided close to the city and unleashed showers of arrows. Old narratives make no mention of Greek fire, perhaps because there are few outlets in walls overlooking the harbor. Still, those Greeks had trumps through which they might have funneled the liquid. It is known that for at least five centuries Greeks and Arabs have employed this unnatural mixture to horrify and confound enemies. Also, a fleet of Christian warships going to the relief of Jerusalem was met by Saracen dromonds vomiting fire through the gaping mouths of brass serpents, lions, and dragons. As to how this fire is mixed, they keep the secret. In Constantinople are said to be metal tubes, casks, and porcelain vessels of curious shape, but no one is allowed to see how the instruments conjoin. Some Russian prince once sailed down the Black Sea with a mighty host but when his ships got near the wall they were spattered with flame out of long tubes. Many Russians leapt into the sea weighted down by armor, electing to drown rather than burn to death. I have heard that the substance is able to follow swimmers and ignite fires impossible to quench, but that is doubtful. Vinegar extinguishes it. Sprinkling sand subdues it. Most difficult to understand is how flame, which by nature ascends, can be made to fall downward. This
