5. The Sack of Constantinople

5.
The Sack of Constantinople

Annals of Niketas Choniatēs (1204)

As Europe became more confident and aggressive in the twelfth century, cracks began to appear in the edifice of the Byzantine state. The army and navy had lost much of their strength and, to make matters worse, in 1201 rival claimants to the imperial throne were embroiled in a dispute. This crisis coincided with the Roman Catholic pope’s call for a new crusade to the Holy Land and served as a pretext for a detour by the crusaders to the Byzantine capital of Constantinople (present-day Istanbul). Fueled by religious zeal and prejudice, in April 1204 the crusaders swiftly and savagely sacked the city. Greek historian and imperial official Niketas Choniatēs (c. 1155–1215) witnessed the rampage firsthand, which he describes in the excerpt from his Annals that follows. Other sources confirm many of the details of Niketas Choniatēs’ account, although he clearly viewed the crusaders through a distinctive lens. Steeped in classical Greek, Christian, and Byzantine traditions, he was highly critical not only of the crusaders’ violent acts but also of what he perceived as the barbarity underlying them. His criticism had little effect. Although the empire regained control of Constantinople in 1261, it was never again a dominant political force in the West.

From Niketas Choniatēs, O City of Byzantium, Annals of Niketas Choniatēs, trans. Harry J. Magoulias (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1984), 312–17.

As dawn broke on . . . [9 April 1204], the warships and dromons approached the walls, and certain courageous warriors climbed the scaling ladders and discharged all manner of missiles against the towers’ defenders. All through the day, a battle fraught with groanings was waged. The Romans had the upper hand: both the ships carrying the scaling ladders and the dromons transporting the horses were repulsed from the walls they had attacked without success, and many were killed by the stones thrown from the City’s engines.

The enemy ceased all hostilities through the next day and the day after, . . . on the third day, . . . they again sailed towards the City and put in along the shore. By midday our forces prevailed, even though the fighting was more intense and furious than on the preceding Friday. Since it was necessary for the queen of cities to put on the slave’s yoke, God allowed our jaws to be constrained with bit and curb because all of us, both priest and people, had turned away from him like a stiff-necked and unbridled horse. Two men on one of the scaling ladders nearest the Petria Gate, which was raised with great difficulty opposite the emperor, trusting themselves to fortune, were the first from among their comrades to leap down onto the tower facing them. When they drove off in alarm the Roman auxiliaries on watch, they waved their hands from above as a sign of joy and courage to embolden their countrymen. While they were jumping onto the tower, a knight by the name of Peter1 entered through the gate situated there. He was deemed most capable of driving in rout all the battalions, for he was nearly nine fathoms tall and wore on his head a helmet fashioned in the shape of a towered city. The noblemen about the emperor and the rest of the troops were unable to gaze upon the front of the helm of a single knight so terrible in form and spectacular in size and took to their customary flight as the efficacious medicine of salvation. Thus, by uniting and fusing into one craven soul, the cowardly thousands, who had the advantage of a high hill, were chased by one man from the fortifications they were meant to defend. When they reached the Golden Gate of the Land walls, they pulled down the new-built wall there, ran forth, and dispersed, deservedly taking the road to perdition and utter destruction. The enemy, now that there was no one to raise a hand against them, ran everywhere and drew the sword against every age and sex. Each did not join with the next man to form a coherent battle array, but all poured out and scattered, since everyone was terrified of them.

That evening the enemy set fire to the eastern sections of the City . . . from there the flames spread to those areas that slope down to the sea and terminate in the vicinity of the Droungarios Gate. After despoiling the emperor’s pavilion and taking the palace in Blachernai by assault without difficulty, they set up their general headquarters at the Pantepoptēs monastery. The emperor went hither and yon through the City’s narrow streets, attempting to rally and mobilize the populace who wandered aimlessly about. Neither were they convinced by his exhortations nor did they yield to his blandishments, but the fiercely shaken aegis filled all with despair.

To continue with the remaining portions of my narrative, the day waned and night came on, and each and every citizen busied himself with removing and burying his possessions. Some chose to leave the City, and whoever was able hastened to save himself.

The enemy, who had expected otherwise, found no one openly venturing into battle or taking up arms to resist; they saw that the way was open before them and everything there for the taking. The narrow streets were clear and the crossroads unobstructed, safe from attack, and advantageous to the enemy. The populace, moved by the hope of propitiating them, had turned out to greet them with crosses and venerable icons of Christ as was customary during festivals of solemn processions. But their disposition was not at all affected by what they saw, nor did their lips break into the slightest smile, nor did the unexpected spectacle transform their grim and frenzied glance and fury into a semblance of cheerfulness. Instead, they plundered with impunity and stripped their victims shamelessly, beginning with their carts. Not only did they rob them of their substance but also the articles consecrated to God; the rest fortified themselves all around with defensive weapons as their horses were roused at the sound of the war trumpet.

What then should I recount first and what last of those things dared at that time by these murderous men? O, the shameful dashing to earth of the venerable icons and the flinging of the relics of the saints, who had suffered for Christ’s sake, into defiled places! How horrible it was to see the Divine Body and Blood of Christ poured out and thrown to the ground! These forerunners of Antichrist, chief agents and harbingers of his anticipated ungodly deeds, seized as plunder the precious chalices and patens; some they smashed, taking possession of the ornaments embellishing them, and they set the remaining vessels on their tables to serve as bread dishes and wine goblets. Just as happened long ago, Christ was now disrobed and mocked, his garments were parted, and lots were cast for them by this race; and although his side was not pierced by the lance, yet once more streams of Divine Blood poured to the earth.

The report of the impious acts perpetrated in the Great Church2 are unwelcome to the ears. The table of sacrifice, fashioned from every kind of precious material and fused by fire into one whole—blended together into a perfection of one multicolored thing of beauty, truly extraordinary and admired by all nations—was broken into pieces and divided among the despoilers, as was the lot of all the sacred church treasures, countless in number and unsurpassed in beauty. They found it fitting to bring out as so much booty the all-hallowed vessels and furnishings which had been wrought with incomparable elegance and craftsmanship from rare materials. In addition, in order to remove the pure silver which overlay the railing of the bema, the wondrous pulpit and the gates, as well as that which covered a great many other adornments, all of which were plated with gold, they led to the very sanctuary of the temple itself mules and asses with packsaddles; some of these, unable to keep their feet on the smoothly polished marble floors, slipped and were pierced by knives so that the excrement from the bowels and the spilled blood defiled the sacred floor. . . .

It was not that these crimes were committed in this fashion while others were not, or that some acts were more heinous than others, but that the most wicked and impious deeds were perpetrated by all with one accord. Did these madmen, raging thus against the sacred, spare pious matrons and girls of marriageable age or those maidens who, having chosen a life of chastity, were consecrated to God? Above all, it was a difficult and arduous task to mollify the barbarians with entreaties and to dispose them kindly towards us, as they were highly irascible and bilious and unwilling to listen to anything. Everything incited their anger, and they were thought fools and became a laughingstock. He who spoke freely and openly was rebuked, and often the dagger would be drawn against him who expressed a small difference of opinion or who hesitated to carry out their wishes.

. . . There were lamentations and cries of woe and weeping in the narrow ways, wailing at the crossroads, moaning in the temples, outcries of men, screams of women, the taking of captives, and the dragging about, tearing in pieces, and raping of bodies heretofore sound and whole. They who were bashful of their sex were led about naked, they who were venerable in their old age uttered plaintive cries, and the wealthy were despoiled of their riches. Thus it was in the squares, thus it was on the corners, thus it was in the temples, thus it was in the hiding places; for there was no place that could escape detection or that could offer asylum to those who came streaming in.

O City, City, eye of all cities, universal boast, supramundane wonder, wet nurse of churches, leader of the faith, guide of Orthodoxy, beloved topic of orations, the abode of every good thing! O City, that has drunk at the hand of the Lord the cup of his fury!

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. What language does Choniatēs use to describe the crusaders and their actions? What does this suggest about Greek attitudes toward western Europeans and their culture?

    Question

    02dy3dOpLC9XKCzlQO1FgYamhYq7pnHkIwrUx37R1aeSRD5AwItm/q8vzxldaAbYn0P0obOLQeBNeoTYCpeqs59Z+nMqDIh0ZwPGYtDZBQRdLT8M4mxQkSqwQ1+yv3F3DrUGP8qhGcNn4vdod/GkB56vVYWabiER6+fqsm9IZPcHGjlqXP8jdUzl3yjrCj8C6ElwZowHbZC7pVBfhUNQXiKkHKRnPdh7t2X9Rph41uPFB2bdV6ESQqgKY0Dpn/89kXNzT5CGrVFVYKZpnAlT+tNO+oI=
    What language does Choniatēs use to describe the crusaders and their actions? What does this suggest about Greek attitudes toward western Europeans and their culture?
  2. How does Choniatēs portray the emperor and residents of the city? How did they react to the crusaders’ actions?

    Question

    uMkWT5Yi+VJjtFll2NNY+UKoFBconTYhx0mOzHVSBFpEwTctPmT/NT0Gi2EGl559BIjdPFESC70AmOglYAt2LG6o2eZ4HRx21JgLcWToNxfpH5eU+fsn4YOXkiCcjdQYbEZxJlU/82os6v6mtPoFA8cf1ySzvip1QPXK0zkYz79XB246NDfg2kkHV7ECrGhsZm6z6g9fRBK3IWn7
    How does Choniatēs portray the emperor and residents of the city? How did they react to the crusaders’ actions?
  3. What does Choniatēs reveal about the layout of Constantinople? Why do you think he included such details in his account?

    Question

    pfE2kWMbAOKYUeO/pjpywWBY26y29L39bUuDCTFgxTBzGHt7vXwvuOVaOjh4SjQbQC8z3RVewe5CYF6ABwZX9gml7Grf79tfh3Y+dHKy7WFcWwBgODuKeSYnjDh2YGJsOkNWwWYKzgswaLDlTBKoGj/IsoM2Ivt2Ibl57ZIvgjX9uHr7+Ct6AaI3nNU6cIZwKgEXGJTQr2F/B7U38Zb5oCG2mN0=
    What does Choniatēs reveal about the layout of Constantinople? Why do you think he included such details in his account?
  4. Why does Choniatēs focus in particular on the crusaders’ destruction of religious property? Why would this have been especially disturbing to him and other Byzantine Greeks?

    Question

    2AXUVK+RG5iTWm6jzSN2VA1Ph2J0wU02xDgkU1hxQBv2eLdLl9ZYr67jCZF0jCNhWWnyt3Y0t0QsYiZfglPCwg8p0gVrxrt3G6nTisMVsMTMT2vWvf850pA1QsU2P1/MyKXCqHaFHaY3SzNsZKy6E9I//wmyeHbHc38ZxubvWxVW8073iv44pATqWTjwG6Mwmz9S0oN8iANDwsWLAMuGP8a9VaHjntWgVWbQK5R3OqO7VzU0F1NErJ3GvBkq5Uiyxn/BA6S68QyOLko+y9BbWGpYLU8Z7HGo4jql+g==
    Why does Choniatēs focus in particular on the crusaders’ destruction of religious property? Why would this have been especially disturbing to him and other Byzantine Greeks?