Complications of empire
The Latin Empire centered on Constantinople was retaken in 1261 by the Byzantine Greeks, who had set up an Empire in exile in Asia Minor. Over the next two centuries the remaining crusader realms (all on territory that is now part of Greece) fell one by one. (If you skipped the Fourth Crusade and would like to see a map of the geopolitical changes that it brought about, click the button below.
The conquerors of the crusader realms were Greeks, loyal to the Byzantine emperor, whose titles were respectively the Despot of Epirus and the Despot of Morea—another name for the Peloponnesus. (Obviously, despot meant something rather different to them, something more like ‘lord’ or ‘master,’ than it does to us. In modern Greek [δεσπότης], its primary meaning is ‘bishop.’)
The last Latin realm to fall was a mere stub of the Principality of Achaia, finally absorbed in 1432—after a century and a half of progressive nibbling—by the Despotate of the Morea (i.e., the Peloponnesus). Byzantium itself had only 19 years left; the Turks conquered Constantinople in 1453, and eight years later they overran the despotates, completing the extinction of Greek independence.
The Empire never recovered from the Fourth Crusade. Although the Byzantines retook their capital, Constantinople was from that point onward at the mercy of the Genoese, who built or occupied forts near the city that gave them complete control of its trade. When the Byzantines tried to build themselves a fleet, the Genoese sailed into Constantinople’s harbor, the Golden Horn, and sank it. Meanwhile, the Ottoman Turks had arrived in Asia Minor and were putting greater and greater pressure on Byzantine defenses.
The last Latin realm to fall was a mere stub of the Principality of Achaia, finally absorbed in 1432—after a century and a half of progressive nibbling—by the Despotate of the Morea (i.e., the Peloponnesus). Byzantium itself had only 19 years left; the Turks conquered Constantinople in 1453, and eight years later they overran the despotates, completing the extinction of Greek independence.
The Empire never recovered from the Fourth Crusade. Although the Byzantines retook their capital, Constantinople was from that point onward at the mercy of the Genoese, who built or occupied forts near the city that gave them complete control of its trade. When the Byzantines tried to build themselves a fleet, the Genoese sailed into Constantinople’s harbor, the Golden Horn, and sank it. Meanwhile, the Ottoman Turks had arrived in Asia Minor and were putting greater and greater pressure on Byzantine defenses.
The picture above is from a Turkish source for a change: the recently opened Panorama 1453 Museum in Istanbul (where, needless to say, the Ottoman conquest of the city is not regarded as a catastrophe). As you can see, one important difference between this attack and the one in 1204 is that artillery had entered the picture. The Turks had it and the Byzantines didn’t; their ancient walls were no match for the new technology.
The sea-based Venetians had managed to hold onto their territorial gains—all of which were islands or seaports—with greater success than the land-based crusaders, and after the fall of Constantinople they still held most of them. Crete, for which they paid cash in 1204, had the potential to bring them the greatest economic return. But first they had to take possession. They didn’t achieve this goal immediately; before they could move in they had to dislodge the Genoese, who had established a trading presence in Crete and were not inclined to surrender the island to their chief rivals.
The Venetians conceived Crete as a colony, to be administered exclusively for the benefit of the Serenissima Republica. Many enterprising colonists arrived, some belonging to Venice’s noblest families, and these received large grants of the best agricultural land, in standard feudal fashion. But Venice itself had never been a feudal society. The city comprised so little land that land never became the basis of wealth or power, as it always was in the European societies that are generally considered feudal.
Political problems of a kind familiar in countries like England and France, but foreign to Venetian experience, soon arose in Crete. Landowners naturally enough came to see their estates as existing for their own economic benefit, rather than that of the state. Crete’s appointed governors—the Duke of Crete in Candia and the Rectors of Canea (Chaniá) and Retimo (Réthymno), as well as lesser colonial officials—were chosen in Venice and sent out to Crete. They were accountable to the Venetian Senate, not to Venetian magnates in Crete. These two power centers, one colonial and the other local, were often at loggerheads.
The Venetian colony’s rulers made efforts to keep up wheat production; they sent out agents to check on what farmers were doing, and issued orders that were generally ignored. They imposed a heavy tax on wine exports, but even this didn’t motivate landowners to be more cooperative. The landowners’ motivation might have been stronger if there had not been a law forbidding them to sell wheat to anyone but the Most Serene Republic—at a nice low price dictated by the buyer.
But Crete had more than two political layers. Besides the one made up of rulers and functionaries from Venice and the other of Venetian landholders, there were the native Greeks, some of them members of the island’s previous ruling class, whose estates had been given to Venetians. Others were workers—in the cities, a mixture of Greeks, Venetians, and others, and in the rest of the country, nearly all Greek. Every party had its own interests, passions, and loyalties.
Venice’s official policy was to maintain ethnic purity, at least at the social levels of respectable society. The Republic wanted its colonists to remain (in the Venetian formula) “blood of our blood and bone of our bone.” This, it was hoped, would prevent the settlers from going native and ensure that they stayed closely bound to Venice and its interests. But that end was hard to achieve, for more reasons than economics. Members of many Venetian families intermarried with the clans of dispossessed Greek magnates, and there was intermarriage on lower social levels as well. As time went on many colonists began to use the Greek language and think in Greek ways. Quite a few even learned to prefer Orthodox to Latin Christianity.
It’s hard not to see a similarity to what was going on in another colonized country, Ireland, during the same centuries. English settlers on all social levels were intermarrying with the natives and taking on their language and customs, to such a point that one overwrought government paper described the worst offenders as having become “hiberniis ipsis hiberniores” [‘more Irish than the Irish themselves’].
But Crete had more than two political layers. Besides the one made up of rulers and functionaries from Venice and the other of Venetian landholders, there were the native Greeks, some of them members of the island’s previous ruling class, whose estates had been given to Venetians. Others were workers—in the cities, a mixture of Greeks, Venetians, and others, and in the rest of the country, nearly all Greek. Every party had its own interests, passions, and loyalties.
Venice’s official policy was to maintain ethnic purity, at least at the social levels of respectable society. The Republic wanted its colonists to remain (in the Venetian formula) “blood of our blood and bone of our bone.” This, it was hoped, would prevent the settlers from going native and ensure that they stayed closely bound to Venice and its interests. But that end was hard to achieve, for more reasons than economics. Members of many Venetian families intermarried with the clans of dispossessed Greek magnates, and there was intermarriage on lower social levels as well. As time went on many colonists began to use the Greek language and think in Greek ways. Quite a few even learned to prefer Orthodox to Latin Christianity.
It’s hard not to see a similarity to what was going on in another colonized country, Ireland, during the same centuries. English settlers on all social levels were intermarrying with the natives and taking on their language and customs, to such a point that one overwrought government paper described the worst offenders as having become “hiberniis ipsis hiberniores” [‘more Irish than the Irish themselves’].
When they weren’t actually rebelling, however, many Greeks made efforts to join the Venetians’ military occupation forces, for which there were definite economic rewards. The best farmlands around Candia (Iráklio), for instance, were reserved for members of military units, and although Greeks weren’t supposed to be recruited, many of them managed to get into the ranks somehow. In outlying areas, the local Venetian magnates did recruit or draft Greeks for a kind of militia duty. Officials wrote of these recruits with great contempt, describing them as the worst sort of incompetents and malingerers. Meaning, one supposes, that the Cretan peasants neglected—for reasons the officials could never work out—to internalize the goals, ideals, and values of their masters. The rascals were only in it for the money… or in some cases only because their landlords had signed them up for involuntary service.