ll that went on among the
Latins. As soon as the truce expired, he marched his troops across the
frontier and approached the city. His force--doubtless the Latins were
badly served by their spies--seemed too small to inspire any serious
alarm, and the Latins, who had recently received succor from Venice
which made them confident, resolved on striking the first blow by an
attack on the port of Daphnusia. They accordingly despatched a force
of six thousand men, with thirty galleys, leaving the city almost bare
of defenders. This, then, was the moment for successful treachery. One
Koutrilzakes, a Greek voluntary, secured the assistance of certain
friends within the town. Either a subterranean passage was to be
opened to the Greeks, or they were to be assured of friends upon the
walls. Alexius, at dead of night, brought his army close to the city.
At midnight, against a certain stipulated spot the scaling-ladders
were placed, where there were none but traitors to receive the men; at
the same time, the passage was traversed, and Alexius found himself
within the walls of the city.[52] They broke open the Gate of the
Fountain; they admitted the Greek men-at-arms and the Coman
auxiliaries before the alarm was given; and by daylight the Greeks had
complete command of the land wall, and were storming the imperial
palace. There was one chance left for Baldwin. He might have betaken
himself to the Venetians, and held their quarter until the unlucky
expedition to Daphnusia returned, when they might have expelled the
Greeks, or made at least an honorable capitulation. But Baldwin was
not the man to fight a lost or losing battle. He hastily fled to the
port, embarked on board a vessel, and set sail for Euboea. In the
deserted palace the Greek soldiers found sceptre, crown, and sword,
the imperial insignia, and carried them in mockery through the
streets.

While Baldwin was flying from the palace to the port, behind him and
around him was the tramp of the rude Coman barbarians, proclaiming
that the city was taken. The houses, hastily thrown open as the first
streaks of the summer day lit up the sky, resounded with the
acclamations of those, yesterday his own subjects, who welcomed the
new-comers with cries of "Long live Michael the Emperor of the
Romans!" The house of Courtenay had played its last card and lost the
game. Pity that it was thrown away by so poor a player.

It matters little about the end of Baldwin. He got safely to Eu