Meanwhile the men had to live and to buy provisions throughout the hard winter of the Adriatic. The result was that, when the spring came, they found that “they could neither go to Alexandria, nor Babylon, nor Syria, for they had already spent all their money both on their stay, and on the hire of the fleet…”. The army’s position was indeed as desperate as it had ever been. Now was the very moment for which the plotters had been waiting.

Doge Dandolo, we are told, “seeing that they were disturbed by their predicament”, called a meeting and addressed them. “My Lords,” he said, “there is in Greece a country that is rich, and well supplied with everything that you need. If we could only find a reasonable excuse to go there and take what we need to see us on our way, that would seem to me an ideal solution. In this way we could easily manage to get ourselves to the lands overseas.” At this moment the Marquis of Montferrat rose to his feet and said: “My Lords, I have been staying during Christmas in Germany, at the court of the Emperor [Philip of Swabia]. There I happened to meet a young man who is the brother of the Emperor’s wife. This young man is the son of the Emperor Isaac of Constantinople, who was removed from the throne by the treason of one of his brothers. If we take this young man with us,” he went on, “we could justifiably enter the territory of Constantinople, and there secure our stores and provisions, for he is indeed the legitimate Emperor.”

Everything now had fallen into place. Like a massive and complex jigsaw puzzle, the schemes and ambitions of a number of individuals had dovetailed so that an overall pattern lay revealed—the diversion of the Fourth Crusade to Constantinople. Initially the Doge can have hoped for little more than the destruction of Zara, followed possibly by the dispersal of the Crusading army during the winter. But his dealings with Sultan al-Adil of Egypt were foremost in his mind, and he certainly had no intention of allowing the Crusaders to follow their initial plan and attack Egypt. There can be little doubt that he was privy to the plot of Philip of Swabia and Boniface of Montferrat.

The Crusaders, by falling into the Doge’s trap, had placed themselves in a position where they were entirely dependent on the Venetians to transport them, and at Venice’s terms. The Doge himself must have known of the presence of young Alexius at the German court since the summer of 1202. There can be no doubt that his speech to the Crusaders about the wealth and provisions to be obtained in Greece—so happily seconded by the speech of Montferrat providing in young Alexius the key to the problem—had been most carefully rehearsed. All that now remained was for Alexius to propose the solution to the Crusaders’ difficulties. He accordingly stated that, if they would place him upon the throne of the Byzantine Empire, he would pay them 200,000 marks. This would enable them to pay their debt to Venice, and would provide them with more than enough capital to prosecute their campaign. At the same time, Alexius guaranteed them an army of 10,000 men. This would more than make good the deficiencies caused by those who had failed to join them, or by those who had subsequently deserted.

In the desperate position in which they found themselves there could be no doubt what the response of many would be. There were still some dissentients, but these were overruled. The Crusade was diverted yet again. On May 4th, the fleet and the Crusading army, having left Zara, put into the harbour of Corfu. A few days later two galleys joined them, bringing down the principal actors in the drama: Dandolo, Doge of Venice, Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, and Alexius, pretender to the throne of Byzantium. Despite the fact that a considerable number of the more important barons and knights, among them Simon de Montfort, had already left the army, refusing to betray their Crusading oaths any further (‘traitors,’ according to the Count de Villehardouin), it was still an immense fleet which anchored in Corfu roads.

This was the last moment when any effective protest could have been made against the diversion of the Crusade. It was hardly surprising that even at this late hour there were a number of barons and knights who suddenly realised the trap into which they had fallen. The ‘malcontents’, as Villehardouin calls them, divided themselves from the rest of the army, took with them a considerable number of soldiers who also had no wish to go to Constantinople, and set up a separate camp and parliament. Realising that with their small numbers they would be unable to attack Egypt, they decided to make their way to Syria, where they knew that a number of the earlier defectors from the Crusade had already arrived.

There was consternation among the leaders at this further division of the army. They debated how best to convince them that the only solution for all their problems was to proceed to Constantinople.