A part of the vessels were sent off in advance; and a week later, on a brilliant October day, the remaining fleet departed. From the masts fluttered the standards of Venice and of all the chief countries of Europe, as well as the rich gonfalons and banners of the nobles; while above every mast arose the sacred cross. The ships were filled to their summits with soldiers, their armor glistening in the sun; while the sides of the principal vessels were hung with the emblazoned shields of the nobles they carried. Early in the morning the Doge and the barons heard Mass in San Marco, and from there, in grand procession, marched to the quay to the music of silver trumpets and cymbals. Barges were waiting to convey them to the ships; and as they embarked, hundreds of barchette and other small boats filled with ladies and children surrounded them, and followed to witness the departure of the fleet, and wave their final farewells to husbands and fathers, sons and lovers. Each noble had his own ship, and an attendant transport for horses. Dandolo's galley was vermilion-colored, as if he were an imperial potentate, and his pavilion when on shore was of the same royal hue. The signal for sailing was given by a hundred trumpets, and in the castles at the crosstrees of the ships the priests and monks chanted the "Veni Creator Spiritus." As ship after ship left its moorings, as sail after sail swelled before the wind, and the rowers bent to their oars, it seemed as if the whole sea were covered; and the hearts {41} of those who were left behind were comforted by the feeling that no power could withstand so goodly and brave a host. The fleet was watched with straining eyes until but a few white specks could be discerned in the dim distance, and the people returned to their beloved Venezia, seeming now like a vast house of mourning upon which the silence of the tomb had fallen. In the Ducal Palace the Marquis of Monteferrato, the commander-in-chief of the army, lay ill, or made a pretence of being so. He was attended by the Baron de Montmorency and other nobles, all strict churchmen, of whom it was more than suspected that their delay was caused by fear of the disapproval of the Pope. Two months passed before they joined the Crusade; and as they moved about the city and sailed on the lagoons, they seemed like the last link between Venice and all that had gone from her. The lovely weather which attended the fleet brought it, in spite of some delays, before the fortress of Zara on Saint Martin's eve (November 10). No stronghold in the dominions of Venice could compare with this for strength, and a girdle of lofty watch-towers secured it against surprise. It was garrisoned by Hungarian soldiers under fine discipline, and the Zaratines were a brave people. Seventeen years had elapsed since they had expelled the last Venetian Podestà from their territory, and they had full faith in their ability to repulse an enemy.