From its very inception the Fourth Crusade was marred by an evil destiny. Born of the pangs of rivalry betwixt Church and State, its object was distorted by ambition, avarice, politics and misfortune. Dandolo utilised it to lay the foundations of Venetian greatness. No other State or people gained anything from it of permanent value. Instead of heeding the advice of the wise old Doge to encourage commerce and bulwark their Empire with trade, the barons of the conquered realm crushed the inhabitants under the iron heel of feudalism. Within a year of his election the Emperor Baldwin was dead, slain by the Bulgarians who had burst the frontiers his knights were too weak to defend. Dandolo died not long afterward, exhausted by the marvellous exertions he had undertaken.
Had Western Europe backed the new Empire, had the Papacy lent it ungrudging support, Baldwin's successors might have triumphed, despite their mistaken policies. But the West remained occupied with its own affairs. The religious fervour which had conceived the Crusades was fast expiring. Rulers and peoples were engaged in beating out the groundwork of civilisation from the brutishness of the Middle Ages. There was a dying flicker of fanaticism under the lash of St. Louis's personality a half-century later, but like others which preceded and followed this, it gained no material purpose, it did not better the lot of the Eastern Christians or redeem the dwindling territory of the Holy Land that yet remained in Christian hands.
Perhaps it is too much to say that the Latin conquest of Constantinople benefited nobody but the Venetians. Perhaps it had some value in that it breathed life into the decaying national spirit of the Greeks. They were stirred to fresh exertions by the humiliations put upon them. They waged relentless warfare upon the Latin Empire, and finally, on the night of July 24th, 1261, taking advantage of the absence of the reigning Emperor, Baldwin II, and the Venetian fleet, a Greek force of 1,000 men led by Alexis Strategopoulos Cæsar entered the Gate of the Pegé by treachery and brought the Latin Empire to an inglorious close. The dynasty of the Palaeologoi supplanted the house of Hainault.
It was a brave effort misdirected. That is the most charitable judgment which can be pronounced on it. Had it succeeded in the genuine ambition of its leaders—that is, had they been able enough men to contrive the accomplishment of such far-reaching schemes—it might very well have achieved the lasting junction of the Eastern and Western Churches, reared a great, progressive Christian state athwart the path of Islam and redeemed once and for all the Holy Land.
But it failed to accomplish any of these objects. Venice alone turned to account the spoils which fell to her portion to check the Moslem sweep, in the Eastern Mediterranean. It failed, and as a failure it is remembered.
THE END