t over the heads of the first
line. The soldiers, who leaped from the galleys on shore, immediately
planted and ascended their scaling-ladders, while the large ships,
advancing more slowly into the intervals, and lowering a draw-bridge,
opened a way through the air from their masts to the rampart. In the
midst of the conflict, the doge, a venerable and conspicuous form, stood
aloft in complete armor on the prow of his galley. The great standard
of St. Mark was displayed before him; his threats, promises, and
exhortations, urged the diligence of the rowers; his vessel was the
first that struck; and Dandolo was the first warrior on the shore. The
nations admired the magnanimity of the blind old man, without reflecting
that his age and infirmities diminished the price of life, and enhanced
the value of immortal glory. On a sudden, by an invisible hand, (for
the standard-bearer was probably slain,) the banner of the republic was
fixed on the rampart: twenty-five towers were rapidly occupied; and, by
the cruel expedient of fire, the Greeks were driven from the adjacent
quarter. The doge had despatched the intelligence of his success, when
he was checked by the danger of his confederates. Nobly declaring that
he would rather die with the pilgrims than gain a victory by their
destruction, Dandolo relinquished his advantage, recalled his troops,
and hastened to the scene of action. He found the six weary diminutive
_battles_ of the French encompassed by sixty squadrons of the Greek
cavalry, the least of which was more numerous than the largest of their
divisions. Shame and despair had provoked Alexius to the last effort of
a general sally; but he was awed by the firm order and manly aspect of
the Latins; and, after skirmishing at a distance, withdrew his troops in
the close of the evening. The silence or tumult of the night exasperated
his fears; and the timid usurper, collecting a treasure of ten thousand
pounds of gold, basely deserted his wife, his people, and his fortune;
threw himself into a bark; stole through the Bosphorus; and landed in
shameful safety in an obscure harbor of Thrace. As soon as they were
apprised of his flight, the Greek nobles sought pardon and peace in
the dungeon where the blind Isaac expected each hour the visit of the
executioner. Again saved and exalted by the vicissitudes of fortune, the
captive in his Imperial robes was replace on the throne, and surrounded
with prostrate slaves, whose real terror