Chapter 201: Prester John
And for the Patriarch of Constantinople, this day was also somewhat difficult to endure.
He was already over seventy years old, and over the past year, his energy had become increasingly depleted, feeling as if he might heed God’s calling and ascend to heaven at any moment. Unfortunately, as long as he had not relinquished the power and position in his hands, he could not expect even a single day of peace.
Ever since Manuel I returned to Constantinople from this expedition that was nearly a complete defeat—though of course, he did not believe the failure stemmed from his own arrogance and impulsiveness, but rather that it was due to the lack of piety toward God among the people of the Byzantine Empire, which brought about this blow delivered through the hands of the Turks.
Therefore, he generously donated for multiple Masses and prayers, and even specified that the most important ones needed to be presided over by the Patriarch.
If these matters could still be barely completed by the Patriarch—out of consideration for Manuel I’s gold—then the endless banquets and ceremonies were adding insult to injury. Of course, the Patriarch quite enjoyed banquets, especially those to entertain the Crusaders who had rescued Manuel I from the abyss of despair—the cooks, servants, clowns, and prostitutes of Constantinople had pulled out all the stops.
But the problem was, even if he had no moment of peace during the day, he still had to accompany them until late at night in the evenings. The Patriarch even missed many early prayers because of this, forcing him to divert some of Manuel I’s donations—as his own confession expenses.
Today’s farewell ceremony was one he could not miss either, goodness knows, Manuel I also wanted him to give a blessing to Anna.
During his prayer, his tongue stumbled, not knowing how to address Princess Anna—because according to doctrine, Princess Anna was an illegitimate daughter who should not receive a blessing. Though the Patriarch also knew the girl was completely innocent; her and her brother’s only fault was being born as Manuel I’s children.
Giving the blessing was not enough; he also had to go with Manuel I and a large group of people to the port—Manuel I and the Empress had seats, while the poor Patriarch had to stand with a group of ministers. As he gazed at the large ship carrying the Princess and her dowry sailing away, some malicious thoughts inappropriately arose in his heart.
This thought became even more vivid and intense when he had just comfortably lain down in bed, only to be summoned again by Manuel I’s envoy.
The schism between the Eastern and Western Churches began with the division of the Ancient Rome Empire into two, and ultimately the Western Roman Empire fell to the barbarians, while the Byzantine Empire inherited the legacy of the Roman Empire and continued on the Anatolian Peninsula.
Because of this, the contempt of the East Romans for the so-called Western Romans was deeply rooted, not only among the common folk, but also in the Church.
And the disputes between the Eastern and Western Churches originated from three reasons.
The first reason was that they were all vying for the position of head of the Church. Leaving aside the East Rome here, the West Rome was so firm and arrogant because of the two missionaries Paul and Peter. Paul had written the famous purple Letter to the Romans purple to the Christians in Rome, and Peter, called the “chief of the apostles of Christ,” was the first Bishop of the City of Rome, and both had martyred in Rome.
Rome’s St. Peter’s Basilica was built over the tomb of St. Peter.
Because the position of head of the Church involved personal and Church interests, no one was willing to yield easily. This struggle ultimately concluded over a hundred years ago with the leaders of the Eastern and Western Churches each excommunicating the other.
The second reason was some differences in scripture interpretation and ceremonies, which we won’t dwell on, as I believe none of you would be interested in whether to cross oneself with three fingers or five.
And the third point was the root of the Patriarch’s endless complaints.
The Roman Church has always believed that ecclesiastical authority should be above royal authority. In contrast, the Orthodox Church of the Byzantine Empire holds that royal authority, or monarchical authority, should be above ecclesiastical authority. Almost every Patriarch of Constantinople, even if appointed by the Emperor, cannot help but envy the power of the Roman Church in the dead of night—they could even excommunicate a monarch, forcing him to travel barefoot with his family through blizzards to beg the Pope for forgiveness outside the castle.
And what about them? To put it impolitely, they were simply a dog kept by the Byzantine Emperor—having to laboriously hunt for the master, put on a grand show for him, and obey his every summons at all times, unable to even get a full night’s sleep.
Unfortunately, the Patriarch could only keep these complaints buried in his heart, not daring to say them to anyone.
Manuel I’s envoy was still waiting anxiously, so he had to summon his servants, quickly redress himself, donning layer upon layer of robes, a tall hat, a cross, a cloak, and sheepskin shoes.
Fortunately, the Hagia Sophia cathedral was not far from the Grand Imperial Palace, and for two-thirds of the journey, the Patriarch was permitted to use a sedan chair.
But for the remaining one-third of the journey, he had to rely on his feeble legs.
When the Patriarch disembarked from the sedan chair, his back and buttocks already ached unbearably. The envoy turned back and saw this venerable elder shuffling along, moving slower than a sea lion on land. Helplessly, he called over two strong, quick-footed eunuchs to support the Patriarch’s arms on either side, lifting him up and hurrying forward—or rather, running.
The Patriarch was jolted half to death, nearly in tears. He had never been dragged along like a prisoner—or a sack of grain—but no one dared keep Manuel I waiting too long.
When they finally arrived outside the “Hall of Nineteen Couches,” the Patriarch only had time to straighten his hat and adjust his clothes before the doors opened.
The Patriarch stepped in slowly, only to see that standing opposite Manuel I was a group of ascetics dressed in coarse brown linen garments, not the senior priests in black robes or the church princes in purple robes that he had assumed.
Manuel I signaled his Royal Secretary beside him to repeat the purpose of these envoys to the Patriarch.
To put it this way, when Manuel I heard that envoys from the Roman Church had arrived in Constantinople and were awaiting his summons, he was somewhat surprised. After all, since the two heads excommunicated each other, exchanges between the Eastern and Western Churches had gradually diminished. Later, though some contact was restored due to the Crusades—mainly because of the Crusaders’ misdeeds—before even engaging the Saracens, they first fought with the people of Constantinople, not to mention their “glorious” deeds of plundering all along the Anatolian Peninsula since landing there.
For this reason, the Roman Church had to send envoys multiple times to appease the Emperor Manuel I of the Byzantine Empire and the people, but ascetics? Generally speaking, ascetics would not be sent for such tasks.
For a moment, Manuel I even thought that the Pope of Rome had heard of his defeat in the war against Sultan Arslan II of the Seljuk Turks and sent these ascetics to probe for information or seek exploitable weaknesses.
But he immediately dismissed the idea—although he had been back in Constantinople for some time, the days were still insufficient for news to reach Rome and for them to send people over.
“Prester John?”
Upon hearing the purpose of these ascetics, even the Patriarch was stunned for a good while.
Prester John was a legend that had recently begun circulating on the Pilgrimage Road. People said that in the even more distant East, there was such a great Christian monarch who possessed a vast and prosperous territory, from where the sun rises to the Tower of Babel, immensely expansive, rich in resources, with pious and industrious people, and he himself was an impeccable faithful believer.
He had once waged great war against the Persians and defeated these detestable heathens. And this respectable monarch, upon hearing of the matters in Ayyarasa Road, had also wanted to send troops to aid the Christians of Ayyarasa Road. Unfortunately, the Tigris River froze that year, preventing his army from crossing by boat, forcing them to regretfully call it off.
Not only that, it was said he possessed many treasures, the most famous three being the Gate of Alexander, said to be one of the relics left by Alexander the Great, capable of shielding against all harm and evil.
Another was the Fountain of Youth, drinking its spring water granting eternal life.
The third was a mirror that allowed Prester John to see everything happening in his territory.
As for the origins of Prester John, there were two accounts: one that he was a descendant of the three magi from the East, and another that he was the Apostle John—because Jesus Christ had told him before ascending to heaven that he would live to see His return, leading people to believe Jesus Christ had granted him eternal life so he could wait in the world and welcome the second coming of the Son of God.
But legends are just legends, and both Manuel I and the Patriarch found it somewhat amusing.
Manuel I had heard some truths about the real identity of Prester John.
In fact, this matter was not distant from them; perhaps just over thirty years ago, the Saracens, who were preparing to further expand their territory eastward, encountered another group of yellow-skinned barbarians. Those yellow-skinned barbarians defeated them, and their leader’s name happened to sound somewhat like John. A priest heard about it and forcibly merged the two into Prester John.
They had originally treated this as a joke, but the subsequent questioning—or interrogation—from the ascetics showed that the Pope of the Roman Church was not that foolish.
He was merely using this pretext to chide the Emperor of the Byzantine Empire and the Crusaders.
How to put it?
As narrated earlier, the First Crusade was undoubtedly quite successful. The Crusaders not only recaptured the Holy Land but also successfully established their own and Christian countries on the western shore of the Arabian Peninsula. But such glory never reappeared afterward, like a shooting star that flashed and vanished.
Over thirty years ago, even one of the Crusader states, Edessa, fell, and the Saracens even directly threatened the Holy City of Ayyarasa, which became the trigger for the Second Crusade. But compared to the first, the results of the Second Crusade were simply dismal.
The leaders of the Second Crusade were even two kings: King of France Louis VII and Holy Roman Empire Emperor Conrad III. The Holy Roman Empire Crusaders led by Conrad III set out a few months earlier than Louis VII, but before they could reach the Holy Land, they were ambushed by the Turks on the Anatolian Peninsula.
Though not a total annihilation, the losses were heavy, especially among the young soldiers and laborers.
When the knights escorted Conrad III to flee to Constantinople, they even clashed with Byzantine Empire Emperor Manuel I over some issues. Conrad III finally waited for Louis VII to arrive belatedly with the French army, but fell ill on the march and had to return early.
Louis VII continued leading the army forward. He chose Damascus as the breakthrough in the defensive line, but the people of Damascus were already fully prepared, with strong defenses and scorched earth tactics; the Franks could obtain no provisions here. Although there was aid from Antioch, Tripoli, and Ayyarasa Road, it was merely a drop in the bucket, and in the end, the army suffered a great famine.
Three thousand ordinary soldiers and laborers, to avoid starving to death, even left the army under the Saracens’ temptation and voluntarily became their slaves.
Louis VII nearly became their captive in the Saracens’ counterattack afterward, and finally had to return to Francia empty-handed in dejection.
This expedition could be called the shame of the entire Christian world, but evidently, the Pope of Rome did not think it was all the fault of Holy Roman Empire Emperor Conrad III and King of France Louis VII. Instead, he believed it was because Byzantine Empire Emperor Manuel I had not provided sufficient aid and support.
These ascetics claimed to be seeking Prester John, but in fact, they were condemning Manuel I’s uselessness, forcing them to seek a mythical figure.
Manuel I’s frustration went without saying. He had thought these envoys from the Roman Church to the Byzantines might bring good news, but instead they were crows. He irritably sent the Patriarch to arrange for these people.
The Patriarch planned to send them to a monastery outside the city—for his own sake and theirs; these fellows had better not stay where Manuel I might see them.
But what he did not expect was that Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch unhesitatingly took on this troublesome task.
He was a Crusader knight after all, the Patriarch thought; they must have much to discuss.
Bohemond did indeed have some words for these monks, but first, he arranged them in an even more remote place. “Since you have already come here,” he said, “you must surely want to go on pilgrimage.”
The ascetics hesitated. Of course they wanted to go on pilgrimage: Antioch, Bethlehem, Ayyarasa Road… “But we still have our mission,” the lead ascetic said hesitantly.
“You have already reached Constantinople; how could you not go on pilgrimage?” Bohemond said generously. “I will send you by my ship and dispatch knights to protect you. And you need not worry about your mission—since you are seeking Prester John, should you not head east?
Moreover, you need not worry that the time delayed by pilgrimage will displease the Pope.
I probably have no leads on Prester John here, but soon something will happen here. Take this matter back and tell the Pope; not only will he not mind your delay, he will be overjoyed and even grateful to you.”
The ascetics were unsure if they could trust Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch—his reputation in Rome was not good. Seeing this, Bohemond stepped forward and whispered a few words.
The ascetics’ faces changed instantly; they stepped aside a bit, whispered among themselves, and agreed to Bohemond’s request.
