1444, Byzantium Resurrects

Chapter 285: The Bithynia Revolt

Asia Minor has never been a flat peninsula. It has undulating mountains and ravines, and the population is mainly concentrated in river valley lowlands and coastal plains.

One of them is the Bithynia Plain, located in the northwest of the Anatolian Peninsula, on the east coast of the Bosphorus and the south coast of the Black Sea. It was once the Bithynia province of the Eastern Roman Empire. It has relatively gentle terrain, a relatively dense population, and relatively developed industry and commerce.

The broad region of Bithynia covers many famous cities, such as Nicaea, Nicomedia, Chalcedon, Apamea...

It is very close to the Balkan Peninsula, with only a shallow strait. Transportation is fast and convenient between it and major Balkan cities such as Constantinople and Thessalonica. It is also one of the last regions to break away from the control of the Eastern Roman Empire.

It was only a hundred years since the rise of the Ottomans. They had neither the ability nor the desire to assimilate the Greek survivors on the eastern coast of the Aegean Sea. They adopted a more moderate and enlightened management model, in which Christians paid higher taxes in exchange for limited autonomy.

After Mehmed II retreated to Anatolia, in order to prevent possible rebellion by the Greek survivors, he settled the Turkish refugees who escaped across the strait in the Greek-populated areas, and also moved a number of inland Turks to try to change the local ethnic composition and consolidate his own rule.

Later, the persecution and expulsion of the Hebrews by European countries, mainly Spain and the Eastern Roman Empire, intensified. Many Hebrews sought refuge from the Ottoman Sultan. Mehmed II accepted all of them and settled them in traditional Greek communities.

In terms of tolerance towards the Hebrews, the Ottoman Empire was the best in the entire Mediterranean world. They were even more tolerant and welcoming of the Hebrews than the Venetians. During the heyday of the Ottoman Empire, many Hebrews fled to the Sudan's major cities in the Balkans and Anatolia. In addition to handicrafts and commerce, they also cultivated fields for the Turkish nobles and worked as tenants.

When the Ottoman Empire was prosperous, the people's living standards were pretty good. Although they did not get what they wanted, they lived in harmony and health.

However, the Ottoman heyday came to an abrupt end in 1453, and then it went downhill all the way. Mehmed II's repeated defeats almost brought his prestige to the bottom. If it were not for the remaining power of the Ottoman family, and if the lowest-level Turkish people did not have an almost fanatical respect for the Ottoman family, his rule would never have lasted until now.

Now, the Ottoman Empire has suffered another major blow. Severe cold and drought have plunged the agricultural and pastoral markets into depression. Powerful enemies from the East and the West are attacking it from both sides. Amid internal and external troubles, the Ottoman Empire is on the verge of decline.

In order to consolidate the defense line, Mehmed II had to maintain a large army. In order to maintain the army, he had to recruit young and strong men and slow down production. The dwindling food and other supplies could barely supply the army, let alone fill the hungry stomachs of millions of his subjects.

Bithynia region, north of the Remus Fortress, on the southern coast of the Black Sea, in the village of Doliana.

Doliana Village is a traditional Orthodox village. To the north is the endless Black Sea, and the other sides are surrounded by several hills and dense forests. The land here is fertile and the temperature is suitable. There are more than 400 Greek Orthodox Christians living here. Wheat can be grown in the fields, seafood can be caught on the beach, citrus fruits can be grown on the fruit trees on the hillsides, and wild boars and deer can be hunted in the woods. If it were not for the obstruction of hills and dense forests, and if the transportation was not so blocked, this place would definitely develop into a good coastal town.

At this time, Islamic countries generally adopted the Dhimmi system, allowing Christians and Hebrews living in Muslim lands to retain a certain degree of autonomy and become "second-class citizens", thus easing religious conflicts.

After the war in 1453 ended in failure, the then Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II was determined to work hard to strengthen the country and make every effort to govern. In order to gather the strength of the entire country and make the large number of Greek Orthodox Christians obedient citizens, he created the Ottoman-unique "Millet System" on the basis of the Dhimmi System, which further standardized the rights of "second-class citizens".

At that time, Mehmed II formed two major millets, namely the Orthodox millet and the Hebrew millet. After conquering Karaman and Ramazan, he immediately formed the Armenian millet.

Objectively speaking, the millet system did alleviate the financial situation of the Ottoman Empire after the Battle of Constantinople to a certain extent, and also eased religious conflicts to a certain extent. The common people at the bottom might have some thoughts about the Eastern Roman Empire, but the Orthodox bureaucrats and Orthodox priests who benefited from the millet system were reluctant to give up their full pockets.

However, with the loss of European territory, the pagan and cultural population in the Ottoman Empire decreased significantly, and the millet system underwent repeated revisions. The interests of bureaucrats, clergy, and tax farmers remained unchanged, but the lowest-level peasants and citizens were subjected to even more severe exploitation and surveillance.

After the outbreak of the Great Turkish War, the Ottoman Empire, which was short of food and fodder, set its sights on the Greek Orthodox Christians on the eastern coast of the Aegean Sea. It began to forcibly requisition food and labor, build quarantine zones, and allow soldiers to loot Greek villages, completely violating its previous promises and tearing up its previous contracts.

Up to now, the Armenian millet has ceased to exist with the wars between Karaman and Ramazan, and the Orthodox millet has also become a mere formality, having completely become a tool of rule for the Ottoman Sultan and Turkish nobles to exploit the Orthodox Christians.

As for the Hebrew millets, they stood firmly with the Ottoman Sultan, firmly opposed the attack of the Eastern Roman Empire, and vowed to defend to the death the only country in the entire Mediterranean world that was willing to give them the greatest freedom.

To the north of Doliana village, a priest was riding a donkey, walking slowly on a country road. His attire was very strange, with a simple black cassock, an ordinary metal cross hanging on his chest, and a nail-headed hammer on his waist.

His name is Jeronimo. He took over his father's position as the parish priest of Doria village fifteen years ago. He is also a low-level ruler under the millet system and owns the small church in the village and several fields outside the church.

The villagers of Doria Village all knew that Father Jeronimo was a good man who had always been dealing with the Turkic rulers and the Orthodox people, and had preserved a small piece of pure land exclusively for Christians for the people.

Jerónimo was a devout priest who had been familiar with the Bible since childhood. He always held himself to the principles of the Bible, practiced justice, punished evil and promoted good, distributed the produce from his fields to villagers in poor financial circumstances, and voluntarily provided theological education and cultural enlightenment for the villagers' children.

Of course, despite the serious corruption among the upper-level priests, it was not uncommon to find lower-level priests with good nature like Jerónimo. What made him stand out the most was the mace that he never left.

The villagers always said that Father Jerónimo was a straightforward knight-errant when he was young. He slept during the day and patrolled every corner of the village at night, catching bandits and driving away wild beasts.

Later, a group of Venetian pirates tried to rob the village of Doliana. The villagers were prepared to spend money to avoid disaster, but Jeronimo was furious. He took some strong young men, picked up an iron rod, boarded the Venetian boat under the cover of night, and killed all the drunken sailors.

At dawn the next day, the villagers who were working outside stopped and looked in shock at Jerónimo, who was covered in blood, and the rope in his hand with a string of human heads tied to it.

This incident greatly increased Jerónimo's prestige, and by chance he was appreciated by the Turkish nobles. The Turkish chief of Kocaeli personally praised this brave man who "served the Sultan loyally", took the head of the Venetian sailor, and named him as the next priest.

At that time, the Ottoman Empire was still under the rule of Murad II. The entire empire was prosperous, culturally diverse, and open-minded. Jerónimo was quite satisfied with the rule of Murad II. In his mind, the Ottoman Sultan at least would not be as cruel and inhumane as the Venetian robbers, and was quite friendly to them.

Jeronimo then melted his iron rod and the weapons of the Venetian raiders into molten iron, forged a mace, and continued to defend every villager in Doliana.

As for the Venetian boat, no one knew where it went. The villagers didn't ask, and the priest didn't say.

After becoming a priest, Jerónimo felt his father's hardships and gradually became less talkative. He used his actions to maintain the peace of the village and prevent the Turkish nobles from interfering too much.

Of course, Father Jerónimo was never a man who adhered to dogma. Whenever Turkish officials and senior priests came to inspect, he would arrange for the villagers to send their newborns to the basement, hide all the food and tools, and cry poor to them. In this way, he deceived many high-ranking priests and Orthodox businessmen into giving him money.

Due to the cover of the dense forest and the illusion deliberately created by Father Jerónimo, many people believed that Doliana Village was just a remote and desolate little village with a sparse population, scarce output, no trade routes and very low value.

After the sea transportation route was cut off by the Eastern Roman fleet, Father Jerónimo's disguise became easier. He did not do business, did not buy things, and led the villagers to be self-sufficient.

The church at the entrance of the village caught fire. The villagers believed that it represented the face of the village, so they raised funds to rebuild it, but he just refused to repair it and left it for outsiders to see.

The road in the dense forest was buried by mudslides. The villagers thought it was their only way to communicate with the outside world, so they built it spontaneously. He hurriedly stopped them and let it be abandoned.

The villagers did not understand his actions and did not understand why he wanted to close off the village. Many people also felt that it was his stubbornness that led to the poverty and backwardness of the village.

Until one day, a group of refugees fled here from the wilderness, and the villagers learned that the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire had completely torn up the original contract and began to harm the Orthodox Christians. The upper-class millets not only did not say anything to stop it, but instead helped the evil.

It was not until then that the villagers of Doliana understood the priest's intention. Amid the chaos outside, this paradise surrounded by dense forests seemed extremely precious.

The church is still dilapidated and the roads are still blocked, but the wheat fields are golden, the sea fish are fresh, and the fruits and vegetables are plump and delicious.

Of course, Father Jerónimo had been paying tribute to the Ottoman Sultan, and he paid the grain and other tributes on time every year without any delay.

It was not until the late autumn of 1469 that the Great Turkish War broke out. In order to raise military supplies, the Ottoman Sultan began to requisition grain on a large scale. A group of Turkic cavalry accidentally came here and were immediately ecstatic.

At this time, the village of Doliana also suffered from frost disaster, there was not much food, and the wheat was also listless. However, the Turkic cavalry still discovered a clue. They thought that the villagers had ruddy complexions and did not look like they were hungry.

They had long disregarded the law and the contract, and immediately broke into the village, taking away everything they could, and severely reprimanded Father Jerónimo for deceiving the Sultan.

In order to save the lives of the villagers, Father Jerónimo did not resist. He not only persuaded the villagers to hand over the grain, but also raised enough money to bribe the Turkish captain and escort them out of the village.

The Turks plundered all the fruits of their labor for a whole year, and laughed wildly before leaving, telling them to farm well and that they would come back next spring.

The cold winter wind soon arrived, and the food hidden in the woods by the villagers was soon insufficient. Sea fish became increasingly difficult to catch, and the wild animals no longer went out. The villagers were starving and for the first time questioned Father Jerónimo, believing that he was too cowardly and should not have given all the food to the Turkic barbarians.

Father Jerónimo said nothing, but took a few servants and rushed to the seaside.

A week later, to the astonished eyes of the villagers, the dilapidated ships arrived at the coast loaded with food, coke and furs. Relying on these supplies that came from nowhere, Doliana village survived the long winter without anyone dying.

From then on, Father Jerónimo was completely disappointed with the Ottoman Empire. He no longer wanted to believe in the nonsense of the millet system and religious tolerance, and was filled with anger towards his fellow vampires who were entrenched in the Orthodox Christians.

From then on, Jerónimo began to train militia in the village. He went out to sea again and brought back not only food but also a large number of weapons and equipment.

From then on, Jerónimo added a lesson to the children's schedule, telling them the history of his homeland, telling them about the fire ships and armored cavalry, telling them about the powerful emperor and the rich Constantinople.

From then on, whenever the weather was fine, Jerónimo would take the children to the hill at the west end of the village and look towards the distant west.

What is on the other side of the sea?
Kids always ask.

On the other side of the sea is my homeland.

Jerónimo would always say that.

Time passed quickly, and the dry and hot summer and autumn came in a blink of an eye. As expected, the Turkic cavalry came again, more and more frequently, and Jeronimo always tried his best to meet their needs and save the lives of the people.

It was precisely because of this that Jerónimo was appreciated by Turkish officials and senior clergy, who believed that he and his villagers were indeed loyal subjects of the Sultan, in stark contrast to the Orthodox Christians who had been resisting with arms.

However, a vicious wolf cannot be tamed, and the Turks came here again, gathered at the entrance of the village, waiting for Jerónimo to appear.

"Father, you are here."

When Jerónimo arrived at the entrance of the village, a strong man bowed to him.

Around the strong man, many villagers from Doliana village gathered together, facing the Turkic cavalry in the distance.

"Well, I'm back."

Jerónimo nodded.

"They're here again."

A trace of disgust flashed across the sturdy man's face.

"This time——"

"Okay."

Jerónimo interrupted him.

"Yes!"

The strong man nodded excitedly and immediately ran towards the village.

Under the gaze of everyone, Jerónimo rode his donkey and slowly walked towards the Turkish captain.

"coming?"

The fat captain picked an apple from the fruit tree next to him, wiped it, and ate it casually.

"Where's the food? Is it ready?"

"You were here only once last month."

Jerónimo spoke slowly, glancing at the Turkish captain’s gorgeous attire.

"We can't help it. Many places are experiencing drought and flooding. Both battlefields require a lot of supplies."

The captain threw the half-eaten apple into the ridge of the field and narrowed his eyes.

"Since you haven't suffered any disaster here, you should make more contributions to His Majesty the Sultan."

"If you want to blame someone, blame the Greek emperor of Constantinius. If he hadn't taken advantage of our disaster to launch a massive attack, we wouldn't be in this situation."

The captain was a little impatient.

"Weren't you quite happy the last few times? I see that your grain has been harvested almost completely, so we can collect it again."

"The Greek emperor is harassing us everywhere, and we are busy putting out fires everywhere. We are exhausted. We must requisition food and other supplies!"

"If you have no food, you will have to do corvée like other villages."

The captain threatened. "Is it the same in the Hebrew and Ottoman villages?"

Jeronimo asked.

"Of course! We are all slaves of the Sultan. When the country is in crisis, no one can escape!"

The captain's eyes widened.

"I am willing to have a good talk with you because of your good attitude in the past. Hurry up! The Sultan's, the Aga's, and mine, all must be included!"

Jerónimo was silent for a moment and then nodded.

"Come with me, we are all ready. Although not as many as in the previous times, we have no other options."

"Your soldiers can go directly to the granary. Your share will be included. Please follow me."

"That's pretty much it..."

The captain smiled happily and followed Jerónimo.

Amid the hostile gazes of the villagers, the Turkish captain and Jerónimo walked side by side in front.

The remaining Turkic cavalry followed behind, pointing at the young girl from time to time.

"This village really cannot survive without you. Villagers in many villages have started to rebel, and your village is the best."

The Turkic captain had long been accustomed to hateful looks and walked leisurely on the dirt road.

"We are not bandits. As long as you hand over the food honestly, we don't want to force too many people into desperate situations."

"Ah."

Jeronimo said calmly.

"You are in a remote area here, so you may not know it well. Many villagers outside have fled and become bandits in the mountains and forests. In addition to you Greeks, there are also many Muslims."

"Then there are the nomadic tribes on the plateau. They are simply barbaric."

The captain said with emotion.

"You are still the most pleasing one."

"I heard that naval landings in the west have become more frequent in recent times."

Jeronimo said.

"Yes, the Chalcedon area has been attacked one after another, and the Anatolian fortress has been bombarded day and night. And that devil's lamp, the one floating in the sky, have you seen it?"

the captain asked.

"No, we haven't been harassed here."

Jeronimo said.

"Although the terrain here is flat, the forest is too dense. Even if the Greek emperor came up, he would be helpless. His army could not be dispersed. He could only wait until we had assembled and then be driven into the sea."

"It took a lot of effort for our small team to get here. Not only are we exhausted, but we're also covered in mud. The main army can't even think of getting through."

The captain shrugged.

"At the beginning, an engineer came to your place to investigate, and he came to this conclusion."

Jerónimo looked around and reined in his donkey.

"arrive."

"arrive?"

The captain looked around at the wooden houses in confusion.

“Isn’t this a granary?”

Jerónimo looked at him and smiled.

"I remember that when we first met, you said I was too shabby. You had met many Orthodox priests with your parents. They all wore expensive clothes and gold crosses."

"That's not true. I'm not some commoner. I've seen the world."

The captain laughed heartily, his big, distended belly puffing out.

"At that time, you were chatting and laughing with the soldiers next to you, saying that the Greeks were cowardly. I was the most cowardly one, always wearing a mace, but I didn't know why."

Jeronimo patted the mace at his waist.

"I understand Turkic and know that you look down on me."

"what do you want to say in the end?"

The Turkic captain became alert and stretched out his right hand for the scimitar.

"I want to tell you, don't mistake our patience for weakness!"

Jeronimo roared, revealing his strong muscles, picked up the mace and smashed it on the fat face of the Turkish captain.

"Get out of our place!"

Whistle-whisk-whisk-

On the houses on both sides, figures poked their heads out, raised the strong bows and crossbows that had been set up long ago, and shot at the unsuspecting Turkic squad.

Then, kerosene cans and torches were thrown down, the fire broke out instantly, and the miserable screams of the Turkic cavalry resounded through the sky.

"Just wait and see! The Sultan's army will kill you all!"

A Turkic cavalryman was shot by an arrow and fell to the ground, looking at Jerónimo with a ferocious face.

"You are wrong. The Emperor's army will kill you all."

Jeronimo glanced at him, walked away from the fire, and walked towards the burly man.

"Father, it's so comfortable. I've been dreaming about this day!"

The sturdy man's body was shaking with excitement.

"Go high up and light a beacon to notify the Imperial fleet on the sea."

Jeronimo said simply.

"Father, isn't the Emperor's fleet coming to take us away?"

The sturdy man was stunned for a moment.

"Our area is all forest, there's no way for a large army to pass through!"

Jerónimo looked at the woods in the distance and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

"Go get some kerosene and burn the forest."

"The weather is dry now, and the fire will be very big. You should lead everyone to create a buffer zone and let the emperor's advance troops camp in our village."

Jeronimo ordered.

"Don't hesitate, you must burn it! Don't worry about the losses!"

"We will be divided into Constantinople in the future. What are you still worried about?"

Jeronimo ordered sharply.

The sturdy man no longer hesitated and nodded heavily.

Half of the village was burning, and in the square of the other half, more and more villagers gathered and looked at Father Jerónimo.

Jerónimo climbed onto the platform and looked around.

"Father, what should we do?"

A child asked.

Jerónimo did not answer, but watched the fire burning quietly.

"And when the thousand years are finished, Satan will be released from his prison, Gog and Magog, who are misleading the nations on every side, to lead them one against another; their number is like the sand on the seashore."

The priest muttered to himself.

"And they covered the whole earth, and compassed the camp of the saints, and the beloved city: and fire came down from heaven, and devoured them."

"When the corn is ripe, use the sickle to harvest it; if someone comes to grab it, use the spear!"

The priest made the sign of the cross.

"We have revolted. We will destroy the evildoers, return to our homeland, welcome back the shadow of Jesus Christ on earth, and welcome back our emperor!"

Jeronimo yelled.

"Those who trust in him are like the wall of Theodosius, which will never be moved. As cities surround Constantinople, so the emperor surrounds his people from now on and forever!"

“Holy!”

Jerónimo raised his mace and howled to the sky.

“Holy!”

The people also raised their forks and roared to the sky.

(End of this chapter)